borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · suicide


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.



borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health

Better, but shaky.

So I’ve gone from feeling suicidal on Monday, to inviting my friend over for dinner and making pineapple crumble plus doing a make-up look for her upcoming graduation. I’ve dropped her home and the moment I’ve crashed onto my bed, I feel awful inside. I still miss my friend so much, I’m just worried because he hasn’t been active online at all, which isn’t like him. I have no idea where or how he is, whether he’s an inpatient/outpatient at the moment, nada. I know it’s not my problem anymore as I was essentially dumped but that just adds to the pain of it all.

I know I should just focus on myself instead of ex-friends and ex-lovers and I have so many people in my life who do care but for some reason they’re not the specific people I want the care from. Ex-love confused the hell out of me, he explained he met me to show that people do care about me, people outside my family who are essentially bound by blood relation to be there. But he was choosing to be around without any familial obligation and to show me that people out there want me to be well. But then, I messaged him yesterday and called, and text today and nothing. He knows how bad I’ve been and so, do you not care now? I’m so done with the mixed messages. I know he has a lot going on of his own stuff but I just wish if someone was going to be ‘there’ it would be a little more consistent than that.

I don’t know how to let go, I don’t hate either of them and I think that’s why it’s taking me so long to get over this. On the other hand, I think my moods are just rocky in general.

My psychologist has been amazing, he’s offering me a free session and to reach out by text/email if I need him because I told him about my calmly written suicide note. He said, when someone’s calm that’s actually a more worrying sign. He doesn’t even provide crisis support but I think he’s so concerned as I haven’t been like this ever since we started working together a year ago. It makes me feel safer knowing he has my back like this. He even said I can pay him back whenever I can afford to as I’ve been off work.

He agrees that mood stabilisers/med review from a psych would be a good idea and I’ve been referred but the ‘crisis’ team still haven’t contacted me and they were meant to be in touch on Wednesday. I have 0 support at the moment, apart from online and being on ‘watch’ at home, to get me through this. Somehow, I still am, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. I feel super fragile right now.


borderline personality disorder · bpd · health · suicide

Codeine pt. 2

You’re here again?

oh that’s right..I came to you.

It’s strange how I’m drawn to you. I’m telling you, it’s what you do to me.



I need more than that. If I’m going to have you,

I need all of you,


I lay back.

And let you do what you do to me.

You’re not that much of a secret anymore. I’ve told a couple of my friends because I’m starting to believe you’ll be sticking around for a while. I mean they’re not too happy, they don’t think you treat me that well. They don’t know that it’s really me who abuses you. I want you out of my life and then I take you back.


this is toxic but I swear it feels so good. You walked into my life when I needed you the most so I guess I’m grateful.

Because my tears were filling my eyes but you console me.

I just wish I didn’t need you like I do.

i wish i was strong enough to let you go.

borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · suicide

My Blue-eyed Angel

Ex-love met me at the station. A year later and his blue eyes strike me just as much as they did the last time we met. With his blue shirt, they were even more pronounced.

I wish it was on happier terms.

I was a state 4am this morning. My stomach hurts from the little amounts of food I am currently taking in. My head hurts from the tears and stress of last night. I break down into tears again, seriously contemplating suicide. 2 tabs of melatonin and It doesn’t put me to sleep, it just calms some of the racing thoughts in my mind. I manage to get up, eat 2 biscuits and a croissant.

The thing is, I’m at the stage where if I try to eat a meal my stomach hurts. It’s easier for me to eat in little amounts right now to avoid the pain.

I managed to get up, have a hot bath, finally shave, tidy my room and meet him.

He got me roses, as per his usual sweet self.

We basically spent the hour of him holding me in his arms, cuddling me and asking me what’s been going on and why I’m hurting so much.

He’s been distant because he doesn’t want to sleep with me, he respects me too much he said. He told me I’m not in the place for a relationship right now, I know this is true, I haven’t thought of dating at all the past few months, my minds too occupied with getting through each day. It still hurts to hear it confirmed though.

I am already craving his arms around me. I haven’t been held in a caring way for so long. He asked about my suicide note the concern is clear in his eyes.

I can feel his hands wandering over my body. He holds my waist. ‘You’re even smaller than the last time we met,’. ‘Is it that bad?’ I look down at my stomach. ‘Yes, you need to eat. You are your first priority.’

I wanted to spend the night with him. I don’t mean sex. Being in his arms helped me feel safe. It helped calm my mind and my emotions which are nothing short of a tangled mess at this stage.

I am home, in bed now.

The memories will have to do.




borderline personality disorder · suicide

Manic Panic

So I think, something else besides BPD might be going on. I know this recent FP thing has caused a lot of stuff to go downhill for me, in a way that I’m not really managing to climb out of. I had a late dinner yesterday and then around 12:30 wanted to sleep. Only, I couldn’t.

I could feel the energy surging through me energy or ‘emotions’. I toss and turn. I have too much energy. I need to do something with it. I start pacing my room, sit with my mum but she’s busy reading. I keep pacing.

This results in me staying up all night listening to music and trying different make up looks and outfits. I have 5 days of outfits planned – for where exactly? I only have 3 outings planned.

I finally fall asleep at 6:30am Get up after 3 and a half hours sleep and go movies with my bestie. She even notices I’m really hyper and asked me if I’m manic. ‘I think so’. I spend the day on a high, all my social anxiety flies out of the window. It was so freeing. I can’t remember the last time I wasn’t self conscious in public, and sober. I spam my ‘fp’ with more messages: ‘please call me today? I just want some clarity, please?’ He reads it. Nothing.

I try to sleep when I get home. I still haven’t. Inevitably, the crash comes. I’ve been crying and suicidal. Mums asking me what’s wrong. I have no idea! I cry.

i’m not choosing to be this way. This is not exactly a fun-filled ride for me. This is a daily nightmare. I’m not choosing mania or depression or insane intense attachments that render me weak and hopeless. It’s exhausting.

i needed to make sense of how people can just up and ignore me for no apparent reason. As a last ditch attempt I text ex-love because at this point I reason, I can’t possibly feel any worse than I do now whether he answers or not. I just need to know why he stopped talking to me out of the blue. At least 1 of the 2 can explain something to me.

‘Call me briefly please’. He calls me back half an hour later. ‘What’s up?’ I can hear the concern in his voice. I start tearing up. ‘What’s wrong?, tell me everything.’

‘It doesn’t matter, why did you stop talking to me?’

He tells me he left me a voicemail asking me to call him weeks ago. I never received it as I’d already blocked him by then. He never abandoned me. He was going to explain it all, we just didn’t have the chance.

I break down and tell him how bad things have been. He’s so worried he’s asked me to meet him tomorrow so cue me trying to sleep (I hope but my heart is still racing and I still have a lot of energy my skin feels like it’s crawling).

I really hope tomorrow goes well, whatever ‘well’ in this context may be. I finally see my psych too, so I have that safety net keeping me going.

borderline personality disorder · bpd

Coping with unexplained loss.

As the week has passed and through blogging on here (thereby forcing me to exorcise some emotional demons) and honestly, contact with a new friend, I have finally gotten used to life without a message first thing in the morning. I am able to listen to the songs he sent me and enjoy them without wondering (in pain, anyway) about him.

The kind of friendship I had for the past couple of weeks was intense. It resulted in me planning on flying out to the USA in the summer and what I envisaged would be a happy BPD-BPD friendship to last a long time. ‘No matter what happens, ‘ he said ‘I want to keep our friendship’ – that included his wife eventually accepting we’re friends, me telling him that my future dates will have to get over our friendship if they want a chance with me, and eventually meeting up if his work shifts him to UK this summer or if I saved enough to head out there.

I am only now at the time of writing this able to listen to one of his own tracks, it makes me wonder if he’s finishing up writing the one about me he said he was working on. It makes me sad that this is the only way I’ll hear his voice again.

I sent a late night fb message telling him that I’m sorry for ranting at him and that I understand it seems he has chosen to end our friendship. That he knows where I am if he ever wants to get back in touch. He read it, no reply.

I have started to make sense of things now that my emotions are somewhat in the realm of ‘normal’ (whatever that is with this condition):

One) is, the realm of fp is totally different to a ‘bestie’ I have a very close friend who I could say is my best friend. She knows about my BPD and we’ve been close hiccup-free, since 2016. But an FP has a whole other meaning of obsession, of needing to be in touch, of sharing your all and wanting to know everything about them too. Hell, he could tell me what he had for breakfast and I’d be interested. It’s natural to grieve a relationship that can mean so much.

Two) it was genuine. On this blog, on fb and on other media outlets, I am exposed to men and women, often. But the connection, doesn’t always happen. We didn’t just start ‘talking’ I feel we really connected, and that’s why it hurts as much as it does. It may be BPD fueled but it wasn’t any less ‘real’ because of that.

Three) I have to take responsibility for my own emotions and accept the reality that he may never get back in touch and I will be OK if he doesn’t. It is up to me to embrace the grief, anger and confusion. I have to soothe myself and see myself through this. It is no one-elses’ responsibility.

Four) This isn’t personal. I’m trying not to take it personally, anyway. I know he has his own stressful life issues going on. I know I’m quite good with friendships. My BPD rarely gets in the way of friendships, sure my conflict resolution skills can go abit awry, but I can work through that for the most part. Most of my friendships have ended due to the natural course of life, moving away, new jobs etc. as opposed to conflict. I will try to remind myself of this fact whenever I feel like somethings so ‘wrong’ with me that I can’t keep a friend. (I admit, I felt this way when it first happened last Sunday).

Almost as if a Godsend – mid-blog post, some girls started discussing FP’s. They’re going through the same thing. It feels good to know that other people understand this strange aspect of BPD that isn’t discussed clinically that often, but is very prominent in community discussions.

I know I’ll work through this, I know I can’t skip this stage or try to cover up my emotions. Codeine was my escape and I’m 2 days free of that shite for now, though I have another box – just incase?






body image · borderline personality disorder

Eating disorder go away…

let’s play again some other day.

it always strikes me as weird that I feel I can talk about anorexia. Mainly because I haven’t actually had that much experience of it, or any of the other kinds of ED growing up. But when I finally reached a healthy weight last autumn, there was one thing I knew for sure:

Like the first hit of a drug – once the door to anorexia has been opened it will forever remain. You can shut the door and recover, but your mind now knows the door exists, somewhere down the dark hallways of your mind… waiting for you to open it again.

If that sounds dark, it’s meant to. Nothing about this mindset is fun. I haven’t even intentionally lost the weight this time but here I am. I am noticing a few things though:

I don’t want to eat because on the inside I am crying. I don’t cry tears, I restrict.

Anorexia is a physical distraction. Thus, my conversations with my family and friends can revolve around my weight, what I’m eating, GP appointments on and on..and I get to sidestep any and all conversation about my mental state, emotions, what’s really wrong.

At the same time, in a world where others cannot see how bad I feel inside, my physical weight and weakness (fainting, dizziness) is a bold statement to my family, manager, friends that something is undeniably wrong. You might not be able to see depression or BPD, but you can damn well see this.

I don’t think any of this is intentional on my part. I’m really trying to put weight on. I’m talking to people about it, last time was all about the secrecy. I have a great friend who’s into sports and fitness who has been giving me tips on what kind of things to eat. I’m telling friends I need to put weight on because I know this will make me accountable. They’ll ask me how I’m doing with the weight gain, and I won’t be able to lie.

On the flipside, I don’t want to eat. I don’t even feel hungry. Besides 4 biscuits all day I’ve just had dinner now at 6:35pm because I realise I have to. I don’t even feel the physical sensation of hunger. I don’t know if that’s mental or physical. I struggled to eat. I didn’t enjoy it. I feel weird after. I have practically no cravings for food throughout the day.

honestly, I’m still sad and angry and confused and recovering mentally and food is the last thing on my mind. Maybe it’s self harm? Maybe it’s a coping mechanism? I’m not sure really. I just want it to go away.