A Birthday Reflection.

As my birthday’s here I thought I’d take a minute to reflect on this last year of my life…. there have been some great moments in it, which I will talk about in a minute… but all those things are overshadowed by the negatives. This has without a doubt been one of the worst years of my life. I don’t want a birthday. It certainly won’t be a ‘happy’ one, let’s put it that way. I’d love to think that starting a new year of my life, I could begin again and have a better year going forward… sadly I don’t expect this to be the case.

I’m so isolated. I’ve lost my best friend, my Godchildren, my only other friend is dead, and so is my granddad. And looking back at who I used to be I feel nothing but disgust and shame, and longing to be a child again. I hate who I’ve become. Everything feels wildly out of control and unstable.

I remember after 2016 when members of my family were struck by various illnesses and my granddad was in hospital for six weeks, and almost died… at the New Year, thinking ‘This next year will be better… it has to be’… but I knew it wouldn’t be. I knew it would be the year my granddad would pass away. We’d watched him deteriorate for months. So there was the knowledge it would happen. In that way it could never be a ‘better year’. I thought 2018 could be a better one, but my granddad was still gone…. and people forgot. My friends neglected and abandoned me. I was abused online by left-wingers on three separate occasions. Had my voice shut down on every platform effectively. Fell out with my best friend. Was suicidal all year. Surely 2019 had to be better – I had so many fun things planned for this year…. no. The final betrayal and abandonment by my former best friend. And my other friend died by suicide. My mental health has smashed on the floor. My meltdowns are more public. I can’t control the demons inside anymore. I’m hanging on by a thread, living from event to event, wishing it all away… trying to get to the next goal and the next…. as though I’m trying to reach somewhere or something… only I don’t know what it is. An end??

So no… I don’t think this next year of my life will be better. If anything it will be purely about survival and recovery. It will be hard and lonely. No matter what good things may possibly be in store for me, nothing will change the fact my friend is dead and how broken and upset I am about that. Nothing will change the fact I’ve lost my best friend and my Godchildren. Nothing will change the fact my granddad isn’t here anymore. And nothing can change the past or make people care about me.

 

But anyway… in terms of what’s happened in the last year of my life…. it’s been the first year of my life where I haven’t seen the person I viewed as my best friend. This next one looks to be the first without even talking to them. But the events that have happened are:

•  I had my last MRI & was discharged, & had my neurology appointment.
• Was referred to CMHT, who initially rejected the referral, but saw me in January – directing me elsewhere first.
• Westlife reunited and announced their tour!
• Saw Dara O’Briain – wasn’t a great night due to my mental health & Brexit jokes.
• Looked after the gerbils at least three times.
• Went to the closing night of Take That musical ‘The Band’.
•  Went and saw Boyzone on their farewell tour.
• Went to the Leave Means Leave rally in London – great atmosphere.
•  Walked 50 miles in 50 days for Parkinson’s UK.
•  Went on my own to a new place – Brighton… for a heart-wrenching reason though.
•  Went to see Take That for the first time – outdoor gig, close to B stage.
•  Went and saw Westlife in the front row for the first time ever. Was amazing!
•  Two of my colleagues lost their fight against that bastard, cancer.
•  Samarathon  – 26.2 miles throughout July for Samaritans.

 

So a lot has happened…. good / bad. It’s interesting to look back at it like this… but it’s hard to feel anything about the good stuff. Like I said, it’s overshadowed by losing my two oldest friendships of 13+ years in the last few months, and the resulting grief. Being left with nothing is excruciating. I’m struggling to hold on. I’m so detached from life now and every minute that isn’t numbness, is pain. But I’m trying so hard.

I’m keeping to myself a lot more now, in the last couple of weeks. I’m hoping to set myself the goal of walking a marathon a month, to keep me active and better my mental health – I’ll be doing it purely for health reasons and that feeling of achievement, and not doing it for charity, as I failed to raise any money the last time, which negatively impacted on my mental health. It’ll just be for me. I’ll be focusing on getting the help I need, and looking into bereavement counselling. I’m also working on a new blog which will be more informative and helpful to others hopefully – less negative and personal. It’ll still be about my experience of mental illness, but hopefully more constructive than destructive.

My aim in the next year is to lose weight, to get well and to stay alive. Anything else is a plus. I hope to expect less of people and to accept I’m on my own, and to be able to cope with that reality better.

I’m looking forward to a holiday at some point, doing what I love most.

I may be turning a year older now, but I’m really only a day older. I’m still the same person. There are no miracles. I’m still dealing with the same stuff today that I was yesterday. Age is just a number, especially when you’re living from minute to minute, trying to hang on. Same sh*t different day and all that… the years spill over into each other. I have a lot to work on with myself… I need to find myself again and learn to like myself again. I have to do this alone. I know that now. And I’m going to try my best.

It may not be a ‘happy birthday’ but it’s just a day like any other. I think sometimes we can ruin ourselves by building these days up to be something they’re not, and thinking we have to act happy. I plan to tolerate it and carry on the fight on the other side. That fight is more important than just a day and a new age.

 

Hope people enjoy the long weekend coming up. Speak to you soon.

 

xxxx

 

 

 

 

This Year….

 

How do I begin to explain how awful this year has been? From start to finish it has been an uphill struggle. I end this year worse than I started it, and that’s saying something. This time last year I was about to face my first Christmas without my granddad here. I had finished my therapy course where I had a breakdown and my mental health had got worse. I was trying to pick up the pieces of my life and get through a difficult time. I thought if I could get through that the worst would be behind me. Boy was I wrong….

This year I have had so much shit thrown at me from so many different angles…. from strangers… from friends.

I have experienced paranoia, splitting and what feels like the longest, most drawn-out mental breakdown. Things started going downhill in about February / March… it was the lead-up to the first anniversary of my loss. There was nobody around for me…. no sympathy…. no care…. no support. That’s when I started splitting on everyone and isolated myself. Over time I started to feel disconnected from everything and everyone…. detached from reality… the paranoia crept in and kept getting worse. I have struggled with my grief this year too. I reached the ‘depression’ stage of grief, and I’ve never come out of it.

The world is different now. I see life through a different lens. Everything is darker, flatter, heavier…. nothing feels ‘real’ anymore… not outside these four walls anyway. I don’t feel safe, secure or certain of anything. Life is pain. Just waiting for death. It’s very hard for someone who hasn’t faced a loss like that before to adjust to this new life … and I’ve had to do it alone.

Not only have I had to face it alone, I have had so many heartless people make it so much harder, by throwing their shit at me. I’ve faced more shit this year than I can remember getting any other year. I don’t know if it’s just because I can’t cope with it so well this year, or if there really have been that many more people causing problems for me.

I had a ‘trauma therapist’ (who I didn’t know) deliberately trigger and humiliate me on social media… I had an American ‘Democrat’ attack me for defending those with BPD, from her harmful misinformation where she linked BPD and Trump. I had the people who labelled me as a troll, stupid and a racist, for making a very rational, fair and non-racist point on my own timeline. I had someone stalking my posts because I disagreed with our MP.

I’ve had people thinking I was getting at them and making me feel awkward and disliked by other people, which contributed heavily to me isolating myself. I’ve had people turn their backs on me, who I never thought would. I’ve had people misinterpret everything I’ve said and paint me as a villain. I’ve had them mischaracterise me. I feel I’ve spent most of this year having to explain myself, defend myself and apologise for being ill. I shouldn’t have to do this. I’ve had people kick me when they know how suicidally down I’ve been. I’ve had people hurt me, and double down on that when I’ve brought it to their attention, rather than admit mistakes and apologise…. I’ve been compassionate, forgiving and had none in return. I’ve just had aggression, blame and punishment from them.

People who I thought would be friends forever have treated me the worst… but through it all I’ve discovered those who treat me with the care and respect I deserve. Those who know how to talk to someone this ill and grieving. People who see good in me and tell me. People who don’t think I don’t deserve them. I’m thankful to those people for not holding my illness against me, as some have.

This year has changed me. There may be some good aspects to that, but mainly it’s changed me for the worse.

I cannot stop hurting myself anymore. Whenever I’m left alone in the house I bruise myself… sometimes three times a day, over and over again. The urge is constantly there, so as soon as an opportunity arises I do it. I’ve managed to cut down on cutting recently… that had become a twice-weekly sort of thing at the least. Not done it for a while… the hitting has taken over. The only reason I may seem ‘better’ at the moment has been me focusing on Christmas. I know as soon as it’s over I’ll revert back to how things were before.

I have felt so suicidal this year. For the first nine months of this year at least, every single day I would want to kill myself. I would obsess over how to do it. Just over a month ago I had to phone the Samaritans because I couldn’t stop hurting myself and I just wanted to die. It’s really saying something if I phone the Samaritans, because I do not like using the phone. I had no other choice… it was 1am, I didn’t know what else to do.

My hair-pulling got a lot worse this year… I developed a bald patch on my head…. it grew back….. I got another patch….. it’s an ongoing battle.

I’ve closed down from people. I’ve shut myself away – I’ve hardly left the house most of the year, especially the second half of it. I stopped volunteering. I only went out in the car with family most of the time. But the majority of my time has been indoors at home. I’ve missed so much of the year. That’s why it’s shocking that it’s Christmas now…. I missed Summer and Autumn, so it’s suddenly Christmas and it doesn’t feel like it should be.

I went to the doctor several times as my only source of support for my mental health. She referred me to the CMHT, who rejected my referral without even speaking to me. That was difficult to deal with. She re-referred me and this time they’re going to assess me in January. I don’t expect they’ll offer me help, but at least it’s something. I’ve had to battle through the last year alone. No professional help. No friends.

I haven’t enjoyed things lately. I don’t feel I can anymore. ‘Fun’ events I’ve been to have either felt flat or totally ruined by my state of mind and the way I relate to the world around me. It makes me fear for all the good stuff I have planned for next year. In June next year I’m finally fulfilling one of my dreams I had when I was younger – to be front row for my favourite band….. I only hope I can survive until then. But more than that I want to feel better … I want to enjoy it. If it’s anything like this year has been I will not enjoy it at all. I don’t know if this has been as a result of my illness, grief, or how I’ve been treated by others…. or a combination of all three.

I cannot believe that at a time when I’ve struggled with my mental health and with grief, some people who are supposed to care about me have treated me the way they have. Those people online are strangers – they don’t know a thing about me or my life. They don’t matter. But those who do, and have chosen to be less than compassionate and sensitive, I really don’t understand how they could do that to me. I’m not sure how I can ever forget what they’ve done. But I have to focus on those who have been there for me. Those who have treated me kindly. Those who understand my illness and know how to talk to someone in despair. That will be my focus in 2019…. to focus on the good and put the bad in my past. And hopefully to try and separate the past from the present, which is something I’ve been unable to do this year.

This year has taught me what I deserve… although I feel so utterly shit about myself and think I deserve pain – that’s why I keep hurting myself – I know deep down that I do not deserve the shit people have thrown at me. I know that nobody deserves to be spoken to how I have been this year, not when they’re suffering with their mental health and adjusting to a world after loss. It has taught me not to accept that from anyone anymore, and that I need to stand up and say no to that sort of treatment. If it means losing a person as a result, so be it. They don’t deserve me. Those who care about me wouldn’t want to hurt me, and wouldn’t drive my self-worth down… they’d lift me up, tell me the good things about me and what I deserve and they’d strive to make me feel better. If they can’t do that then they’d at least not make me feel worse.

This year has opened my eyes to things I hadn’t noticed before. And particularly circumstances this Christmas have decided what I need to do to get better. It’s time for a change. I deserve better than this. That’s the note I want to finish this year on. I deserve better. If there’s nothing else I can say about this year, then it’s that. I see that as a positive, to even recognise that I deserve more from people. After the year I’ve had and how I’ve felt towards myself, it’s nice to point it in the right direction and to stop blaming myself. This has been hell  and whilst I know it will take at least as long to get out of it, as it took to find myself in this hell, at least I’m starting to recognise the good in me again. I’m remembering who I am in my heart. The words and actions of others have helped me to see it… to see I’m not what they think I am. So to all those who hurt me this year…. thank you. You may have broken me, but you’ve also allowed me to recognise my own worth, and that in a world where friends can turn their back on you at the drop of a hat, I need to be my own best friend.

A peaceful Christmas to everyone. May 2019 be a better year for us all…. it has to be, surely….

xxxx

 

The List Of Chaos.

• I spend months talking about how I feel I don’t have any friends.
• I talk about feeling alone and like nobody cares.
• You asked me what was wrong, I said I felt invisible, like nobody cares, and I should just keep to myself.
• Your response was silence.
• You left me feeling invisible and like you didn’t care.
• You hardly speak to me anymore.
• You don’t tell me you miss me. You tell me the kids miss me.
• You don’t show that you care. You just say I am your friend.
• I tell you about my mental health, to try and explain my behaviour – you don’t want to hear me. You just get annoyed with me for not being the friend I used to be, and you’re frustrated that I behave how I do.
• You don’t seem to accept my mental illness.
• I write about my paranoia, BPD and self-fulfilling prophecies in relation to friendships.
• You message me saying you don’t know what’s going on but want to sort things out between us and talk of meeting.
• I am hypervigilant and paranoid however. I feel scared and under threat, so retreat.
• I feel ashamed and guilty for saying anything and burdening you, saying you don’t deserve having to put up with my illness.
• I pull away whilst I deal with a couple of things that were hard to cope with.
• I fight against my emotions, my paranoia and my illness, to contact you and suggest meeting to talk, so I can explain my illness. I admit I’m scared about it. I warn you things won’t be easy with me for a while as I’m ill, so if you don’t want to get involved you don’t have to. Last thing I want is to inflict my illness on you. I never expected you’d take this option.
• After a couple of days you contact me, don’t really acknowledge anything I said, and just tell me your side – you tell me what an awful time you’ve been having.
• You tell me you don’t know how to be my friend as you don’t think I want you as a friend. And you just wanted me to talk to you.
• You tell me things that make me feel guilty for having not been there for you – but how was I to know? I’m not a mind-reader, and I’m too ill to approach others and ask. Sorry I’m a rubbish friend. It’s mental illness – you may have understood if you’d listened to me.
• You say you need to focus on your own things.
• This makes me feel like something you can’t be dealing with right now. i.e. ‘a burden’.
• You then tell me you are my friend and you are here for me, despite giving the impression you cannot be here for me. Empty words.
• You showed no compassion for my ill health or suffering. And made no reference to meeting up anymore.
• I  show care that things have not been good for you.
• I assure you I wanted you as my friend, and thought the same about you.
• I repeat that I have a mental illness, one I was going to print stuff out about, to give you to understand better.
• I acknowledge that we obviously need space to focus on our own issues.
• I show concern for something that you mentioned, and wish the best for that situation.
• I close my account.

 

 

• I have no clue how you could think I didn’t want you as a friend.
• I had been calling out for you to be my friend for months.
• The post I wrote about paranoia was based on my illness, but on our friendship too.
• I wrote about feeling possessive and replaced.
• I feel replaced.
• I was replaced as ‘best friend’ when you got married. He became your best friend – as he should be. But to someone with BPD it is still a painful feeling of rejection.
• Wanted to explain this to you.
• Being the only single person left, I feel lonely and I feel less important to you, now you have a family.
• I now feel replaced by your other friend who you frequently post about – you have more in common, family and all… so I feel inferior. This comes from low self-worth / self-esteem.
• You may not like ‘possessiveness’ or ‘jealousy’ but it comes from valuing you, and feeling inferior and insecure. I would have hoped you would respect this and reassure me, rather than feed my insecurities further.
• I wish you could understand my FEELINGS instead of taking offence at my words.
• You seem to look and sound happier with these others friends who are married and have children. It kicks in the thought that you’d be better off without me dragging you down. Whether this offends  and upsets you or not, it’s how I feel. I feel inferior and like a burden to you.
• You have confirmed this by your message.
• You have confirmed my worst fears. That you don’t want to deal with me anymore.
• You want to focus on your personal life.
• I know this will be untrue. You will see the other friend, who isn’t a ‘drag’.
• She will become the new ‘best friend’. And that fear of being replaced will also come true.
• I just wanted you to understand where my fears come from…
• I wanted to explain ‘splitting’ to you as well. It is beyond my control. It is like watching back a movie of your relationship with someone, which has been edited and only shows you the negative times. You know that the positives exist, but they’re not connected to the movie you’re watching. It is not deliberate, and is not about you. It is a faulty thought pattern caused by my mental illness. It distresses me.
• I wanted to explain this to you. But you avoiding my illness, and rejecting meeting to learn about it, and responding how you did has made me split even further. It’s just added to the problem and made it harder to fix in the future.
• My paranoia at least is not paranoia now. It’s just true. But I do still have paranoia and I wanted you to understand how hard it is to cope with that, when you’ve never had support for it before. It doesn’t just go away.
• I wanted you to understand my fear of abandonment, and that when I shut down it is self-preservation mode. It is me trying to protect myself from losing you. I don’t chase people anymore. I withdraw.
• I wanted you to know it’s because you matter to me that I fear losing you.
• I sense the changes. I noticed the way you spoke to me changed. I was aware of the amount of time you’d not talk to me.
• I was paralysed by depression and paranoia, so I couldn’t take the initiative and speak to you, no matter how much you wish I could. I wanted you to learn why it’s impossible for me.
• I felt you had expectations of me that I could not fulfil because of my mental illness.
• I know you want me to be who I was before, but I’m sorry I can’t do that right now.
• I wish I could. I hate feeling suicidal every day.

 

 

 

• You wanted to meet to sort things. I was afraid and overwhelmed, so didn’t agree to at that time. Then when I said about doing it, you seemed to have given up on the idea. I just feel you don’t understand mental illness at all. I couldn’t talk to you. I was scared of you!
• It took so much strength and courage to agree to meet and talk. So it was a blow when you didn’t accept it.
• I don’t understand how you could think I don’t want you as a friend, when I have shown over and over how desperate I am for you to show me your friendship!
• You are a closed book, so I had no clue you felt this way, or had problems.
• I never hid how I felt. So you cannot say the same.
• I know you have your issues. I actually care about you and your family.
• I cannot help not being there for you. I beat myself up for it. Literally. My hand is bandaged from doing so!
• I understand you might feel the same, that you cannot be here for me.
• I understand you may have felt too much pressure to be here for me, but please understand that I am desperate. My life has spun out of control. You cannot expect out of me, what you would expect from any normal person, or even what you expected from me in the past. I’ve never been this ill. I don’t always know what I’m saying / doing… I’m just trying my best to survive. Being judged for the way I do this is not helpful.
• It could be you are struggling with mental ill-health too, and I’m sorry if that’s the case. But I don’t know about it. I cannot help you if I don’t know anything. You cannot expect me to just know these things.

 

 

• I was upset nobody was there for me on the first anniversary of Grampa dying.
• That is where my splitting and paranoia started. It felt the worst that you weren’t there. I thought you would understand and support me. But you then went two months without speaking to me, before writing a less than caring message.
• I am grieving. I went into the ‘depression’ stage of grief and haven’t come out of it. I thought you would be more understanding of what grief can do to a person.
• I’ve never grieved before, not like this, so I needed a steady friendship and security to feel safe in a world that suddenly feels unpredictable and scary.
• Grief and the longest and worst crisis I’ve ever experienced, mixed together, and having to deal with it all alone is hell, and I wish you understood that.
• I don’t have other friends like you do.
• I don’t have a partner like you do.
• I have a tiny little world.
• I haven’t seen anyone socially for four months, since the last time I saw you.
• I don’t have someone to confide in.
• I am alone now.
• I feel suicidal every day now.
• I feel you wouldn’t care if I followed through with it.
• I feel you don’t value my friendship or my life.
• I understand you have your own life. To be fair I haven’t exactly ripped you away from that life this year. On average I saw you less often than once a month.
• I know you have to focus on your family.
• But you make me feel like I’m too demanding for wanting a friend.
• You make me feel how Joe made me feel… like I’m too much. Too needy.
• You made me feel worthless.
• However unintended that may be, it’s how you’ve made me feel.
• What if I died tomorrow? Would you wish you’d cared more when it mattered? Or do I really not matter to you now?
• After your message I wanted to die. Or I wanted to put myself in hospital.
• I ‘just’ harmed myself instead.
• I couldn’t find my diazepam to calm me down. I panicked looking for it.
• I had to just get through it and keep myself safe.
• I’ve appeared strong and positive the last couple of days.
• Today was hard.
• I had so many thoughts and words in my head, which I tried to write out, and I just couldn’t do it.
• I eventually found this way of listing my thoughts clearly. It’s helping.

 

 

• You may feel like a victim to my mental illness and my behaviour.
• But you don’t communicate. You expect me to just know. And then seem to hold it against me for not knowing… making me out to be the bad guy – like I’m selfish.
  But you don’t take the time to understand my illness. If you did some research you might understand how I’m feeling right now. I’d do it for you if I found out you had an illness.
• I feel like a victim.
• I’m already a victim of my illness.
• I feel like a victim of isolation and loneliness.
• And now I feel like a victim by the cold abandonment over the weekend.
• I feel like you see me as the one in the wrong here. But I cannot see it that way. Because I know about my illness. I know my limitations. I know how desperately I cried out for help all year, to have it ignored. I know my symptoms. I know I say and do things that might not be the best idea – but if you understood the illness you would know it’s never about you. It’s about trying to rid myself of overwhelming emotional pain and suffering. I know I have paranoia. I know everything I’m going through. But I know nothing of what you’re going through. And you seem to expect me to. You then imply you can’t deal with me anymore, and need to focus on you – as though I’m asking too much of you… making me feel like shit… how is that fair??
• I am hurt.
• Maybe one day things will work out.
• But it needs to be acknowledged that you’ve hurt me.
• Perhaps I hurt you. But I’ve told you multiple times I am ill. And you don’t talk to me, so I never knowingly turn my back on you at your worst times. But you did.
• I will forgive, but I don’t think I can forget… again, a part of my illness.
• One of two things will happen… either I will get better, on my own, and we will rekindle our friendship, when I’m in a healthier, stronger place. You will want me back as a friend once I’m not this ill. Or we’ll never speak again. And you can tell me how much you care about me, at my funeral.
• All I wanted was for you to hear me, and understand I’m not being difficult or awkward – I am ill and you’re seeing my symptoms. I wanted you to treat me with the kindness needed to survive a mental illness that kills 10% of those who have it.
• I wanted you to care. To really care about me, and to show it.
• I’m sorry you couldn’t do that.
• Goodbye.

The World Through A Hopeless Lens.

 

*Depressing post, mentions suicidal thoughts / self-harm*

 

Picture a world coated in thick black tar. It drips from the trees, the buildings… the floor is daubed with this dark sticky substance. It even rains black, and the sun is obscured by a toxic dark cloud. This is my existence right now. Things I used to enjoy doing I no longer do. Things I once found beautiful I find merely mediocre now. Everything is gloomy, scary and unsafe. Things that make me happy or that I look forward to, are tainted by an overwhelming and sickening sadness and despair. Most days right now I feel like crying. I feel flat and empty. I feel hopeless. I feel gnawing emotional pain…. a violent turmoil inside.

You know that advert about cancer, where the man seems serene and calm on the outside, and inside he’s being battered by a blizzard? That’s me. You wouldn’t know it to look at me, but I’m a completely different person now. What I’m experiencing inside is like nothing I’ve ever faced before. There is nothing good in this world. There is nothing safe. Nothing to live for.

So when people talk to me as though I’m just a mindfulness practise away from living the life I want to, I think ‘piss off’. I’m sick of empty words said by empty people. People who have everything and don’t know what it’s like to be me. There’s a scale of happiness…. 0 is utter depression…. 5 is so-so… 10 is ecstatic. For me at the moment, when I’m ‘happy’ it’s a 5. That’s about as far as I get on the scale. The rest of the time I’m at a 0 to a 1.

I have violent visions. I see myself screaming like a maniac, tearing the room apart, punching everything in sight, throwing the TV out of the window, putting my arm through the glass, writing my pain on the wall in blood… my blood. That is where I’m at. That is what would happen if I let go of control for a moment. If I truly expressed how I’m feeling inside, there would be carnage. And I don’t think I could come back from that. This is frustration about what’s happened in the last few months, and how it’s led to me being in the worst place I’ve known. Nothing in this world feels safe. And I don’t feel safe with myself anymore.

The depression is the worst it’s been. It’s paralysing. And nothing can break me out of it. Maybe for a moment… a nice distraction… but nothing can chase the darkness away. And I’ve given up believing anything will ever work. For the first time in a long time if not ever, I can’t see me getting better. I can’t even see the possibility of it. And I’m beginning to not care about anything or anyone. I can feel myself mentally shutting down bit by bit.

I feel like people expect me to ‘keep my chin up’…. ‘stay strong’… I’ve stayed strong for at least sixteen years of my life. I’m sick of being strong. I’m sick of people expecting me to carry on.

Imagine a world without colour…. no sunshine… no warmth…. just dark fog and thick black tar everywhere. Your happiest moments are only ‘so-so’ and you feel all alone. Now take that ‘keep positive’ attitude and shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. They’re empty words that mean nothing to me now. Don’t tell me things will get better. Tell me how to make it better. How am I supposed to live in this nightmare world? It feels like a punishment, people expecting me to carry on living, when they have no clue what it’s like to know no happiness, no love, no joy… only pain, depression and hopelessness. I want life to feel better. I want it to feel like the gift I used to see it as. I do see it as a punishment right now. I don’t want to die. But I just can’t see any reason to live right now. The only reason is my family – not wanting to hurt them. It would destroy them. But I don’t want to hang on to this punishment called ‘life’, and resent it, just because of guilt. I want more reason to live than that. I want to feel I matter in this world, to someone. I want to know that there’s some purpose, some hope, somebody who could love me… and not just by empty words, but helping me to find it. I’ve had years of false hope… believing things would get better….. they haven’t. They’ve got worse. I don’t believe anything now. I don’t trust anything or anyone.

I’m sorry I don’t write helpful posts anymore. I’m sorry I’m not there for my friends and family. I’m sorry I’m not good at replying to people. I’m sorry I am distant and negative. I’m struggling to put one foot in front of the other right now. I feel bad about it, and it only makes me feel less like I deserve to be happy, have friends and find love, if I cannot even give to anyone right now… if all I can do is take. Believe me, I’m trying not to ‘take’ either. I’m trying to keep to myself. I don’t mean to be selfish. The depression is crippling. I’m just trying to survive. Sometimes it feels like a losing battle. And it takes everything in me.

I had to battle the overwhelming desire to give up yesterday, in my therapy session. I was given the option for it to be the last one, or to have one more. The self-destructive part of me was screaming at me, to leave it like that, throw the piece of paper away, harm myself, continue to spiral down and throw my life away. But a tiny voice in me was fighting to save my life, and I discussed this with the therapist, and concluded I should have one more session…. it would give me three weeks to try and move forward. It would give me a reason to try out the things suggested to me. Believe me, I really don’t want to. I want to give up. But if I want to stay alive I have to listen to that tiny voice in my head. That’s why I’m starting to open up again to people, about my depression, suicidal thoughts and the fact I’m still struggling with the transference issue, as I felt everyone had forgotten it’s still a problem for me. I will try as hard as I can to push forward, but it will be difficult – wading through the thick dark sludge to make a tiny effort will be exhausting. But it’s something I know I have to do. I just hope people know that just because I’m making efforts to move forward, it doesn’t mean I see light and colour… it doesn’t mean I feel happiness or hope…. the world is dark, foggy and covered in endless mess, and I don’t know my destination – I’m just trying to find the will to drag myself forwards, for the sake of staying alive. I can’t do it alone. I need help. Life feels scary right now.

 

The Good In The Worst Year.

 

2017 has been the worst year of my life. If you’ve read my blog you’ll know some of the challenges I’ve faced, the heartaches, the trauma. It’s been a massive struggle to get through it all, and at times I’m surprised I’m still here. What with the loss of a loved one, family health scares, big family fallout, friendship issues, therapy / transference issues and abandonment, my own worsening mental health which landed me at the MIU a couple of times in the last few weeks or so.

It’s been a battle… one I haven’t won yet. In fact I’m close to surrendering, waving the white flag and giving up on life. But so far I’m still fighting. And I thought I’d list the positives from the year… either things I enjoyed, achieved or got through. I suggest you come up with a list like this too, to show that even in the darkest nights there’s a little light to be seen.
I’m sure there’s more, but here’s what I came up with:

Good Things About 2017

• I’ve spoken out about mental health more, which helps me and hopefully others too.
• Did a 5k raising over £300 for Parkinson’s UK in memory of my granddad.
• Gave up Chocolate for Lent / March “Dechox” raised £80 for the British Heart Foundation.
• Ben Montague studio gig – Ben is a great musician and lovely guy, you should check him out…. was a great gig – and met two of my Facebook friends finally!
• Seeing The Band musical. A really great show!
• Looking after my brother’s place while he was away – gave me a much needed break – and got to catch up with a friend who lived nearby.
• Built more confidence serving customers at work. Long way to go, but progress!
• Went to Charmouth for the day.
• Went to the doctor about several issues I had put off for months / years. And had tests done. Very daunting, but got through it.
• Reached out for help from mental health services (even if it didn’t go well, reaching out was a big step).
• Phoned Samaritans for the first time, when in despair. A big deal for me with a fear of using the phone.
• Managed to sell a ticket I didn’t want anymore – figured it out by myself.
• Cancelled a booking and got a refund on the phone – nerve-wracking!
• Couple of gigs.
• Went to fireworks with my Goddaughter for her first fireworks display.
• Successfully babysat both of the kids at the same time, for the first time!
• Harry Potter Studio Tour!!
• Went to the zoo with my Godson.
• Came off Cabergoline (so far so good!)
• Finally got over someone who was no good for me.
• Created a crisis box.
• Made new friends from therapy.
• Persevered with my therapy group, determined to see it through to the end. Despite major issues and times I wanted to quit, I didn’t.
• Got back into writing poetry.
• Tweeting about BPD connected me to many people on Twitter, who I’ve had interesting conversations with, and hope to continue next year.
• Had over a thousand views on my blog – over 800 viewers this year. Reaching UK, USA, Germany, India, Australia, Canada, South Africa, Ireland, Russia, Ukraine, Brazil, Austria, Bermuda, Vietnam, Israel, Hong Kong SAR China, Bangladesh, Singapore, Serbia, Paraguay, Turkey, Argentina, United Arab Emirates, Indonesia, Malaysia, Philippines, Denmark, Belgium, Trinidad & Tobago, Japan, New Zealand, Sweden, Romania, Nepal, Slovakia, Switzerland, Pakistan, Iraq, Georgia, Mozambique, South Korea, Hungary, Cambodia, Iceland, and any other who may have appeared since writing this……. Hello to all of you from all around the world – thank you for taking the time to read my posts. I really am a blog nerd, and love seeing where you’re all from!

• And last but by no means least…. the most important achievement this year….

I survived!

Christmas… (With A Mental Illness).

 

Christmas. Need I say more? Do we really have to do Christmas this year?

This time of year can be difficult for those of us with a mental illness. There’s so much joy and excitement in the air, and people being ‘merry’, going to parties, ‘getting in the spirit’, talking about their plans.

 

Those with a mental illness can find it a stressful time… an upsetting time… a lonely time. I know it’s hard for some to comprehend but some of us find Christmas and the New Year…. sad. For some of us it’s a time of reflection… thinking of people we’ve lost… things we haven’t achieved… how lonely we feel. I hate the New Year and in actual fact the last few years I’ve slept through it, as I hate that moment when midnight strikes, and I think about all the people I wish I had in my life, all out there at that same moment, celebrating a new year, getting on with their lives whilst I’m still stuck where I’ve always been. I only stayed up for the New Year last year, to be with my family, as it was going to be the last one before my granddad passed away… I wanted to be supportive of my family… we’d had such a rubbish year last year and all wanted to kick that year out the door, and welcome a new one in. We knew it wouldn’t be a ‘better year’, as we knew we’d be facing that loss at some point, but it was good to start a different year.

 

 

I used to love Christmas, but now I hate the bugger. I feel I should get one of those ‘Bah humbug’ hats. For the last six, seven years or so Christmas has felt worse and worse. This is because I am chronically alone. I never have a special someone to share it with, and I’d love that more than anything. I know I have my family, and I love them more than life itself – they’re the reason I hold on to my life! We have a lovely Christmas together. I just wish for once I could be happy with someone, and he could be a part of my Christmas too. It sucks always being the single, lonely one… every single year. And feeling that because of my mental illness I will never find someone who could love me, and stick with me. Christmas reminds me of what I don’t have. I’m able to fool myself for the rest of the year, that I like being on my own, but when Christmas comes around the loneliness glares at me.

 

 

This year is worse. This year is the first Christmas since my first loss. My granddad isn’t here anymore. He was ill last Christmas. He had been in hospital for six weeks, where we almost lost him, and after that he was at home in bed, for three months before Christmas. He had changed in his mind after going into hospital. He had times he wasn’t really there. He wouldn’t always know who we were or where he was. I decorated a small Christmas tree for his room last year, so that he could still feel a part of Christmas. We knew it would likely be the last one. We didn’t know at the time, but in less than three months he would be gone.

The day before the funeral was a big fallout, that still hasn’t been resolved, and until those at fault apologise to us, it never will be. They’ve always been a problem, and this time they crossed the line. But we should have been pulling together as a family after my granddad went, and he would be so upset that his death split the family up. We should’ve been helping each other through it. I’ve not been coping with his loss at all. Along with other issues it’s led to me harming myself a lot more, not wanting to be here… my family should be a source of support. But they probably aren’t even aware how badly I’ve been coping with it. They don’t talk to my parents, so they don’t talk to me either (not that I want them to now anyway – they’re in my bad books until they acknowledge what they did and make up for it!). I even felt it at the funeral… being the youngest of the family I would’ve liked my cousins etc to be protective of me and make sure I was okay. They said hello and goodbye to me. That’s all. This lack of caring and support from ‘family’ only adds to my sense of loneliness, isolation and grief. So there’s bad blood in the family this year to contend with too.

There’s the fact he’s no longer here. The fact my nan is alone. We don’t feel like celebrating. When people think about ‘What do you want for Christmas??’ – I want him to be here again. I want to have him back and well. I want happiness. I want good health for myself and those I love. I want someone to love and who loves me. I want inner peace and to like myself. I don’t want anything that can be bought. I want the impossible.

And then there’s recent events for me – my therapy and worsening mental health. My attachment to one of the facilitators of the group. The hopeless feeling of love towards him, which I thought would get better after finishing the group, but it’s only feeling worse right now. I will never see him again. It feels like another bereavement, and just before Christmas too… makes it even harder. It’s like I’ve had my heart broken, and gone through a break-up with someone I never even had. It’s hard to recover from that, because if it was a real break-up there’d at least be some happy memories in there… I could say ‘We had our chance’… I can’t do that here. And I’m grieving for him, but he’s still living… It’s very hard to know how to process a love that isn’t real, a break-up that didn’t happen, and the death of a person still living. I don’t know how to cope with love when it is real! Or a break-up when it does happen. Or a death when they’re truly gone forever – all of these ideas are new to me!! So to have it all not be ‘real’… it’s messed my head up, and the worst bit is I’ve now been left to deal with it pretty much alone.

Therapy has ended. They didn’t really help that much. I’ve been offered two sessions with someone to work on transference, but otherwise that’s it… I’ve just been left to pick up the jagged pieces that continue to cut me, every time I think about him.

I’m going to be in pain this Christmas anyway, but with the loss of him, and missing him, it’s going to be even tougher. I would’ve loved just one Christmas where I wasn’t missing a guy, pining over a guy, crying over a guy. This was set to be the first Christmas in years that I could say that, and then I had to start this group in September and boom… ruined. So yeah…. not feeling too festive this year….

You hear all the songs in the shops, and I don’t know what’s worse for someone grieving, someone who’s depressed, lonely and hates themselves…

• “So this is Christmas, and what have you done? Another year over, a new one just begun”…. What have I done? Bugger all, thanks. Survived maybe. Oh another year is over, and I’m still in the same place I was last year… or even worse – I’ve gone backwards.
• “So here it is Merry Christmas, everybody’s having fun…. Look to the future now it’s only just begun” … Everyone’s having fun are they? Well I’m not. Thanks for rubbing that in. Look to the future?? What if you see no future for yourself? What if the idea of the future fills you with pure dread?
• “It’ll be lonely this Christmas without you to hold; it’ll be lonely this Christmas, lonely and cold” … You don’t say…. two things in this one thank you…. loneliness and the fact I’ve lost someone I love. I’m avoiding this song at all costs at the moment.
• “I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know; make my wish come true – all I want for Christmas is you” … Kicks me in the heart right now, as there’s someone I wish I could have, who I cannot have… and as usual, every Christmas there is someone I do want who can’t be mine. This was going to be the first year without that problem, but now that’s ruined.
• “It’s Christmastime there’s no need to be afraid… at Christmastime we let in light and we banish shade” … For some it is a time to be afraid… afraid of our own minds and if we’ll make it out alive. I fear how I will get through Christmas and the New Year. And if you’re depressed it’s a dark place…. just having something called ‘Christmas’ doesn’t suddenly make it any lighter.
• “Time for parties and celebrations, people dancing all night long; time for presents and exchanging kisses, time for singing Christmas songs” … I don’t get invited to parties. Even if I did I likely wouldn’t go, as I don’t like them. It’s all joy, material gifts and people snogging each other. No joy here. I want things that can’t be wrapped up. And kisses… yeah, right.
• “It’s the most wonderful time of the year” … No, it’s not. If you’re happy, loved, and have hope then perhaps. If you’re mentally ill then it’s probably one of the worst.

I think ‘Fairytale of New York’ is the safest bet for a Christmas song….. Who knows what the heck they’re even singing about anyway!?

This year has been hard, with the loss of my granddad, the health of another close family member, the family fallout, friend issues, my own worsening mental health, the ‘transference’ issue – which has left me feeling like someone I love has been ripped away from me against my will; losing support of the mental health services at this time of year, whilst in the most challenging period of my life….. and now I’m supposed to do ‘Christmas’ too?? No thanks.

 

 

For me, like many others with mental health problems, this is a time of year to simply survive and get through… and then we start a new year, and have nothing to look forward to, as it’s just going to be more of the same – depression, anxiety, loss, heartbreak and suicidal thoughts.

So if you’re out there being jolly and loving Christmas, spare a thought not just for the poor and the homeless this Christmas, but also for those who cannot find a smile on even the most ordinary of days, who have to force themselves through the festivities whilst battling their own demons. Think of those who won’t make it through this time of year, and those who only just scrape by…. Don’t call us Scrooge. Don’t call us The Grinch. We’re not ‘party poopers’ … we’re fighters, and we fight our mental illness every single day, including Christmas Day… Mental illness doesn’t give us the day off. Please remember that.

 

 

And if you’re feeling low, scared and lonely this Christmas, just know you’re not alone. There’s a whole army of survivors out there, feeling just the same, just aiming to get through this time of painful reminders. We’re all in it together, and will still be here to support each other on the other side. Let’s remember each other this Christmas.

Xxxx