borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · suicide · Uncategorized

Codeine, Samaritans & a Tapestry.

I feel like a fairy who has had her wings plucked. Someone who wants nothing but to care  and be cared for in return but is hurt and used instead. What is the toxic situation that has sent me spinning as of late? I will write on it more later as I have more than enough material but it so transpires that I got caught up unwittingly by another narcissist and triangulated with his ‘separated’ wife in the bizarrest way. A couple of weeks in, I’m on the phone with her stopping her from a suicide attempt and in her words: ‘If you hadn’t of talked me down I don’t know what would have happened just now..’ she no longer sees me as a saint but, more on that later.

my heart is in physical pain where I feel the world is out to spite me. I’m an empath, of this by now I know -apparently empaths attract narcissists and that was the last thing I needed right now. You see, as part of my recovery i kept reasoning that if I remain stable long enough (as I have done for 2 years) eventually, good things will come my way as that’s just life, just as good things have surprised my friends and sisters, good things will come. Instead, I feel challenge after challenge and I’m sick of pushing my way through, of recovery, of ‘being strong’. Anything to do with ‘being strong’ of ‘you can get through this’ sickens me, I hate those cliche phrases now, designed to keep us trudging along, the pain nontheless, still there.

This was the last challenge I needed. It hurts the most because all I did was show genuine concern and care for another human being and I was shot down, unceremoniously for it with the words ‘I know sorry doesn’t mean much for you at this point’. Why Thank you. Thank you for that.

I am left reeling I will not lie. I am still taking codeine in the evenings. I had written up a draft post 2 days ago but had to stop mid-way because I was so high I couldn’t type anymore. Saturday was spent laying in bed with my room locked, high all day.

I finally showered this morning after 5 days, I never do that, even at my most depressed the bath is the place I usually go to seek isolation and to cry as the water washes over me. This tells me how bad I am at the moment.

I called Samaritans on the weekend because I still wasn’t feeling good and self harm was flashing across my mind. I talked out the situation for an hour on the phone and it did stop the urge to do it. I’m trying to eat more because I’ve dropped back to an unhealthy weight again. My late arrivals to work meant I got criticised for it this morning- the last thing I needed as I’m so sensitive to it. I hid in the cubicle smoking my ecig for about 5 minutes to recover.

that’s another thing, I purchased another vape, back on that constantly now too.

I’m trying to get to some kind of normal, I decorated my room and brought this beautiful tapestry on the weekend (do you like it??). This evening my glass dresser which only just got fixed and returned yesterday has already cracked in one spot and now I’m trying not to burst into tears. I’ve taken codeine but I can’t yet feel a high.

At the moment I am a walking zombie, avoiding as much human interaction as possible. I am not on whatsapp, avoiding my work friend, I don’t want to make plans with friends. I just want everything to stop. I want time to pause so i can just waste away for a while, everything feels like effort.

 

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borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · suicide · Uncategorized

Going inpatient.

Baking high in the sun at the moment. Been high all day. I feel amazing and suicidally miserable at the same time. Going to do something I haven’t done before, ever. I’ve never rolled up to emergency services or walk-ins for my mental health. Never had near suicide attempts landing me in hospital. Contrary to what people like to say about those with bpd, ‘drama queens’, ‘attention seekers’ I don’t go because I’m mortified by the idea of receiving attention because of a suicide attempt. Not that I think others should feel that way but obvi, I have different standards for myself.

I called Maytree this morning after I had thoughts about asking my mum to come in and take everything she wants from my stuff. I reasoned I won’t be needing anything any longer so they can do what they want with it. Alarm bell 1. Alarm bell 2 – I started writing a letter for them to explain why I did what I did (candy for the person who guesses it right!). I started on it to vent. I mean, I never do that so I still don’t know how much of a warning sign it is. Either way, I thought I should let them know just in case.

we spoke for like an hour about what’s going on. In short, I’m giving myself too deep and too often to people who can’t do the same back. I’m still in the situation so I don’t really want to talk about it yet. I’ve mended things as much as I can but I still feel vulnerable and alone.

I’m better than this morning. I’m going to try to get my shit together in some kind of way. I’m still coping via pills for now but hopefully over the coming few days I can stop.

i told mum I’ll be going away for a short stay in central london so that’s already on the way.

Enjoy the rest of your day dudes.

borderline personality disorder · bpd · suicide · Uncategorized

Trigger post.

dont read the whole thing if you’re feeling low right now.

sorry if my post doesnt make sense as I write. I’m high on pills I won’t name. Don’t ask me how I got here, I’m not entirely sure. Ive been trying to find textlines for suicide prevention (sorry if there’s typos I’m struggling to type). Funny how you can’t find something when you need it. I don’t want to call because I don’t want to cry more than I an right now. I don’t want to jabber on at some stranger about my feelings.

I was really tempted to self harm I still am Im not going to lie. I don’t understand what the point of keeping a self harm free streak is doing for me. I’m still in pain. I used a nail filer instead so it kind of scratched and gave a scratchy sensation but left no marks. For all you regular self harmers out there trying to quit I would highly suggest it.

I don’t know if I have the energy right now to type out why or how I got like this, I’m sure I will discuss it soon. Needless to say, the situation brought forth my bpd in all it’s glory. I feel like the world is living on a different plane to me. They talk, relate, experience, all in a different parralel dimension, while I stay on the other side, always trying to fit in but never quite making it.

I’m going to keep typing because it’s distracting my brain from the other shennanigans its coming up with. I’m sorry if this blog is appaling. I’ll come back with some poetry. Truly I’ve handled a situation like this several times over the past 2 years but for some reason I’m finding it harder right now. I was considering going to Maytree where you can do a one-off short stay if you’re feeling suicidal here in the UK but funnily enough I am helping others on Sunday and I want to be there for them. I can’t cancel on them because I’m feeling the same. I feel responsible for them. I’m going to stick it through until then. To be honest, my mind is just wondering to getting higher. I know I’m gone atm. If I’m not better by Sunday after my shift. I’ll go in for a stay. My psych doesn’t do a crisis service so I can’t even contact him and I’m physically unwell, I don’t want to go A&E.

mums in the other room she has no idea. I’m in my room on my bed. I feel like a shell. I feel literally dead inside. It was almost comical. I was brushing my teeth earlier when I wanted to die? How weird is that? Talk about contrast. My arms felt weak just holding the brush. I mean who gives a fuck about teeth when you don’t want to be here at all? Self care is weird.

i don’t feel blogging will help more than this so I’ll keep it there.

I hope you are all doing way betterx

 

borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · suicide · Uncategorized

There’s a difference between not liking this world and wanting to leave it altogether.

(Post contains mention of self harm and suicide)

So I have been stuck in somewhat of an existential crisis this past week. My Tuesday (or Wesnesday…smh idk the days have just been blurring together and creating some mass called my life) which consists of the recurring thought of ‘what’s the point?’

 I have been plagued with this fabulous thought before during one of my unexplicable bouts of depression.  I don’t know how worried I should be that now at the age of 27, after a religious calling at the age of 21, escape from a DV home and a formal mental health diagnosis, I am still unable to answer this question.

I understand my primary purpose as religious, but it makes sense to me that after this, or within this, there is an individual purpose. Take for example, a christian, they may identify their primary purpose as worshipping God but then one christian may do this by becoming a vicar and another as a volunteer at their local drug addiction support service – they have both taken individual paths suited to them and what speaks to their inner core. Something that gives them a ‘point’, so to speak. Usually I try to supplement or distract away this thought until it dies back down for a couple of weeks but this week I decided that instead of trying to escape I should probably do some serious thinking to see if I can come up with a resolution.

It seriously distracted from my entire work day – there I was in between emails thinking ‘identify your second reason – what do you want to do?’ ‘What do you feel passionately about?’ 

I guess part of the reason for this confusion is largely due to the fact that making money and enjoying myself on the weekends is just not cutting it. Sure, it’s great fun, but for me, it’s not enough. It feels like all I do is consume. 

I also spent my last train journey in my head deciding what I’m going to do to motivate and throw myself entirely into recovery and life in general. I could write another post on this, but, it seems that there is still a lot of ambivalence as to whether or not I actually want to live live. Which leaves me in a kind of permanent half assed sort of limbo. I decided to run with this thought train and take it to the extreme of:

‘Get better and live, or die.’ I think in all honesty, this is a question everyone with BPD has to eventually answer. There has to come a point in your recovery where you ultimately decide to stop fu**ing around, ending up in hospitals (or whatever it is you’re doing) and choose to live. For you.

Do I want to die? I look across at train tracks on a platform. Do I want to walk across and jump off? No, not really. I mean, there are a couple of episodes of anime I need to catch up on before I watch the finale with my cousin tomorrow, kind of want to stick around for that, and as much of a pain in the ass my family can be they’re an alright bunch.

Do I want to self-harm? I imagine going home, slashes to the wrist? Ugh, no. Cutting again? Who cares if it’s maladaptive? I mean your therapist can’t stop you really. No, not that either.

You have now eliminated 1 out of 2 options which leaves the option of: ‘live’. I therefore seem to have no other choice in the matter. The show must go on.

It hit me then on my way off the train that the reason for my lack of enthusiasm is  that while I may not want to leave this world entirely, I’m just not a huge fan of the place in it’s current condition.

 

guess there’s a difference.

 

Uncategorized

This is BPD

Im blogging again because this is the core of my BPD. I’ve struggled with this the most. So he told me that he’d changed it before we met. That I’ve basically accused him of lying and talking to other girls. I feel like an idiot now. I don’t think I got through anything, I think I just sabotaged amazingly. How did I get to sabotaging after 2 and ahalf years of therapy?

I thought I was ready for this. Obviously not.

Uncategorized

Put your money where your mouth is.

Or rather, what you talk about in therapy – practice in your real life.

Alas dear friends, I have to admit – I have struggled this past weekend with my nemesis – fear of abandonment. I haven’t really mentioned it on here because it wasn’t really worth a mention just yet BUT *shock, horror* I have been speaking to someone (can you taste the Wednesday morning sarcasm).  This is line with my goal for 2018 which is to go on a date a month, date 1 I am still awaiting however, so that went down the pan fast…

But, it appears I had gotten a little attached to us speaking daily as it has become a bit of a routine this year to swap a couple of messages a day. We set a date Saturday night (here’s to hoping it materialises) and then..well, nothing.

I didn’t hear from him Sunday or Monday and by Monday afternoon I was counting down the minutes to my therapy session because I no longer felt sane. I was in the midst of now juggling with my fear of abandonment.

To my surprise, instead of validating that I am indeed insane, my psychologist actually applauded me and told me I am managing well. The thing is, I know deep down that all of this fear has nothing to do with the present moment, it has nothing to do with my situation right now – it has nothing to do with anybody else. I freak out based on my past circumstances and how my brain got programmed as a result. Which really really really sucks. I complained of how the rational part of my brain now recognises that freaking out is totally not warranted, is an overreaction to an entirely normal situation (I am ashamed to admit it hadn’t even been 48 hours) but yet there I was still freaking out.

I mean I did try really hard, I sought out my handy dandy DBT book, tried the distract skill..so I helped my mum out in the house, watched a couple of things, focused on work at work, kept my phone out of sight and tried to calm myself with meditation.

On the bright side, he said that I am managing pretty well in that I’m recognising that this has to do with me, that I have to ‘reel’ it all in and that it comes from my past. It’s not about another person and that I did a good job of not seeking ‘outside’ of myself (did that in the past, it didn’t end well). We talked about attachment and how I have to be my own secure base now, which is ultimately the result of a secure attachment even if you form this later in life through a therapist, significant other, teacher/mentor etc. It sucks, but I know he’s right.

I wish I could put my therapist in that role for now but I just can’t seem to attach to them in the way I know some others describe their experience. It’s kind of a mixed feeling in a way, as I know attaching to your therapist causes a tremendous amount of pain and longing in between sessions but at the same time, wouldn’t it be better being attached to a therapist who accepts all the crazy then trying to put it onto a romantic other/potential SO and then sabotaging your relationship?

Either way, he told me kinda bluntly that I am (not on purpose, obviously) putting the potential guy in the primary caregiver role. That I need to admit to myself, in whatever wording I need to, that no-one can be in that role for me, that I need to be whole for myself. I need to meet my own needs and validate myself as that’s ultimately what secure individuals are able to do. They can reflect back their own feelings and needs and meet them and help themselves be OK and feel OK. This is in contrast to my older pattern of doing things which would be to guilt myself or make myself ‘bad’ for feeling whatever it was I was feeling. I struggled with making myself ‘bad’ for feeling so afraid on the weekend. I think I’m going to have a deep moment after this entry where I try to find the right wording to remind myself of this fact.

I’m not gonna lie it was hard to meet myself with compassion on the weekend because I really don’t want to be that way anymore. But, on the Brightside he did say it gets better over time and I can attest to that with my experience with anger. In the beginning of my recovery journey every potential argument was a minefield and I was afraid of what I would do or say and how to navigate the situation in real-time. Now my brain works through it much faster and sometimes I don’t have to think about it at all.

I guess what I mean is, it may take me time to get there but once I become more aware of fear of abandonment and build more experience in navigating it I hope it will lessen over time and become more of an automatic reaction as opposed to the dreaded anxiety ridden experience it was over the weekend.

Here’s to hopin’.

borderline personality disorder · bpd · mental health · Uncategorized

My favourite person – BPD and FP

This is another strange phenomenon of BPD that I didn’t know I had or was a ‘thing’ until The Mighty site contributors brought it to light for me and I realised, this really is a thing. I’m really so grateful for the people out there sharing their stories and experiences when it comes to mental health, it makes me feel a little less alien, and a lot more understood.

FP’s (favourite person aka the person the BPD individual is the most attached to) – I’ve usually always had one. They’re usually always my romantic partners, that is, until they haven’t been. I realise now, quite painfully that ex-love is my current FP – which is weird because we haven’t really spoken much the past year at all. But, there is an emotional bond one has with their FP that cannot be easily broken by time or circumstance. That, and I haven’t fallen in love since then. 

I do feel like in a weird way, it might be a good thing that someone who cannot be my lover is my FP, then when I do get romantically involved with someone (the logic is anyway) that they cannot be said FP as the spots already been filled. I haven’t really experienced having more than 1 at any given time because you only have emotional space for that one person. They consume you in a way no one else can, ”favourite” is putting it mildly, heart filling, obsessive, powerful, those are the words that really come to mind.

When things are going well with FP, the sun is shining, all is right in your world, you could be no happier. When things are not going so well, it’s like you’ve been floored, your whole world is collapsing, hours can pass in tears. That’s what my marriage was like, that is what I truly am afraid of happening again.

To  love and to be loved is a beautiful thing, but to give complete control and hand over the keys to your sanity to another person who is probably only just managing their own, is playing with fire. You are at their mercy. If you must have an FP please choose wisely.