I was never supposed to be the girl who gave up. The girl who struggled. The girl who was trapped in cycles of self-destructive behaviours. I wasn't expected to be the one to end up in hospital, to end up with scars, to go from underweight to overweight and back again. I was expected, for… Continue reading i’m not who you think i am
Just because they say they understand, doesn't mean they do. Just because they texts emojis, and kind words, doesn't mean those sentiments are actually reciprocated. Just because you're good at your job, doesn't mean you're not at risk of being fired. I lost my job. This isn't to say that I'm unemployed, but I lost… Continue reading Lessons
Every year, I tell myself things will get better. They never do. The pain is endless, and I am mostly left feeling distraught. As 2011 ended, depression had a firm grasp over me, and anorexia was beginning to infest my soul. By 2012, all the behaviours of my eating disorder had appeared; excessive exercise, calorie… Continue reading New Year, Old Me
I slipped. I broke down. I went to emergency, where, just like humpty dumpty, they glued me back together again. (FYI the glue didn't hold a day. I was insisting on stitches, but the doctor wouldn't listen) I don't have any words. I don't know what I'm supposed to write here anymore. It's not that… Continue reading Humpty Dumpty
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?
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'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