The past few weeks have been…colourful. I have had highs, anxious nights, crashing lows filled with tears. It’s been a rollercoaster. The insanity running rampant in my mind has only started to cool down the past 3 days of which the first day I ran to my mums room to announce ‘I FEEL NORMAL!’ it was amazing, really, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that way again. Things had been so intense I was suspecting I have Bipolar on top of BPD.
There was another day of having a lot of energy and I started to suspect I would crash later. Sure enough around 10pm I was crying, suicidal, thinking I should call the crisis team or go to A&E. I managed to stay in my room. I scratched my arm with a nailfiler instead of a razor. I wanted to take more codeine. In the end, I lay alone on my bed, pills in hand, crying out to God in pain until 3am. In that moment, I had no one.
I had gone up to 50mg of Sertraline and at the time it was difficult to tell if it was the medication or the crisis making me that way. Everything was a blur. I had appointments almost daily, and an assessment by the mental health team. I will be seeing a psychiatrist hopefully next month. I am really hoping it helps as I have tried the therapy route for a long time and the self help route, this is the only other thing I can think of to help me.
Some things have become clear to me admist all of this chaos, that I still need to work on my recovery particularly when it comes to feelings of abandonment. I also cannot ‘force’ myself through my depression as I have been the last year. I have to admit it’s a thing. I do not want to spend the rest of my days struggling to get up to go to work, or motivating myself to complete an application, or to pretend to smile. I want to do those things. I want to want to live.
Ex-love totally blocked me out of his life. He had reconsidered a relationship with me but admitted he wasn’t ready. He also said if I was healthy he would be with me but because of me being suicidal he couldn’t handle if that were to happen. That hurt. That really really hurt. I couldn’t understand it. ‘So basically because of an illness that wasn’t my choice I get to miss out on being with a person I love?’ he just kind of sighed and said that wasn’t it. It is though.
I reached out to him during this crisis period. I left a voicemail asking him to call me back because it was about paying for psychiatrist fees (I would never ask normally but he had already offered to help me pay for therapy as I’m not working atm). No reply. I text him again, that it’s not OK to blank me again like he’s done before. Still nothing. A few days later I still caved and said if he just wants me to block him I will but if he wants to talk, to call me. Still nothing. I wasn’t even worth a reply to just say ‘I don’t think we should talk.’ Anything. It hurts that he’s done that when I’m so vulnerable. When we actually split up February last year, he helped me through it, I was able to use my DBT skils and I had the ‘healthiest’ break up ever. This year? He dropped me cold. After making an effort to see me with roses. It’s so confusing and abrupt.
I think this relapse has happened because I had 2 people cut me off and in a short span of time. I now have no ‘close’ friends that I share my intimate feelings with, the ‘real’ stuff.
Both of my sisters are pregnant. I love being an auntie. I got my niece painting in the garden yesterday, she did her first ever handprint which my sister loves and wants to frame. Played with her on the swings, she was so happy and I was giggling right there with her. Took her to the shops in the sun, stopped to let her see some flowers on the way. I have moments of joy in my life. But I just, didn’t expect to be here. I never imagined struggling so much.
I was contemplating whether I could even blog again, after doing so well, or kinda well, for so long, I was right there in full BPD mode, and worse than the initial event that led me onto the recovery journey in the first place. How do I come back? What do I even write about? But, I want to continue. I have to get back to normal. This blog has become a part of my life and part of my ‘normal’. I chose life, in those nights I wanted death. So I will write to show that that is nothing to hide or to feel ashamed about.