Not sleeping. Not eating properly. Discovering alcohol. Which, as it turns out, makes me 1) not sleep, and 2) suppresses my appetite. So it's both a problem (because I'm more exhausted than ever) and a solution (because I don't want to eat anyway). Self-harming to punish myself for not eating properly and discovering alcohol. My… Continue reading Some Struggles of Late
Alcohol. In that single word I can see all of the mistakes I've made in under a month. I have been sober my entire life, despite growing up in a town with a heavy drinking culture, despite desperately wanting to fit in at university where it seems damaging your liver remains the best way to… Continue reading Whoops, guess what I discovered?
For a little while know, I've known that conventional seating isn't my thing. In a bit of a weird way. I just don't like chairs. I much prefer sitting on the floor. I don't know if it's because they symbolise waiting rooms and classrooms and doctor's rooms and rooms of other people I've somehow irritated… Continue reading I’m officially scared of chairs
When I was in high school, I went through several severe stressors all at roughly the same time. First, I was already suffering from anorexia nervosa, which isn't exactly a great way to kick things off. Then I was bullied incessantly. And by incessantly, well fuck. I was physically and verbally abused every single day, from 8… Continue reading That thing I never talk about
This phrase we've accumulated: it's okay not to be okay, has taken a unique turn in the general shittiness of my life. I've discovered that feeling okay, that feeling content, less depressed, more energetic, anything that goes beyond the usual neurotic distress, very quickly makes me not okay. I find it uncomfortable to the point… Continue reading Feeling okay makes me not okay
I've seen a few people in the mental health blogosphere describe the process of leaving a therapist a bit like Nanny McPhee: When you don't want them, but need them, they must stay, and when you want them, but no longer need them, then they must go. This is not necessarily true. I am not… Continue reading A New Therapy Path
More noticeably than ever have I been noticing the pull of polarisation that BPD brings. It comes with an anxious tremor, and a silliness fringing on hypomania, and impulsivity and outrageousness. But it also comes with dark thoughts and dark urges and the lure of punishments desecrated across my skin. Tonight I have experienced every… Continue reading Earlier.
There. Just there. A little more to the left. Shift slightly upwards. There. Did you see that? I can count every rib. Wait. No, there's some missing. There's too many missing. There. Just. there. A little to the right, a little to the left. The light is in the wrong place now, and I've lost… Continue reading She’s creeping in
There's a problem with living with borderline personality disorder: it doesn't make things easy for me. There I was, one week ago, the happiest four days I have experienced potentially ever in my life, and here I am, one week later, back to that dark pit I know only too well. There I was, my… Continue reading What Goes Up Must Come Down
I made a fairly big call recently. I decided to return to my home town in regional coastal Western Australia. It is a place seething with bad memories, and as I have made very clear on this blog before, the source of much trauma. As I was flying in, I realised something. This isn't a… Continue reading Things Change + A Poem