Earlier.

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.

She’s creeping in

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

Things Change + A Poem

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

The confusion that comes with being a borderline

I am so, so scared. I am so, so confused. I don't understand my mind anymore. I spent a long time trying to understand how my eating disorder and self-destructive behaviours functioned and served me, but now, in this current place, I am lost once more. I don't understand why the smallest trigger can send… Continue reading The confusion that comes with being a borderline

These are not my only needs

I need to draw to calm my anxiety, but I'm shaking so badly I can't hold a pencil steady. I need to stop shaking because it's freaking people out, but I'm so agitated I can't stop. I need to look after myself, but a worthless person places all others' needs above their own. I need… Continue reading These are not my only needs

Anxious Human Here (4.0)

Turns out, there's still plenty on my mind. Here are some of the things that are making me anxious: People on buses who sit too close, whose clothing brushes against mine. People on buses who cough, or sneeze, or rub their hands against the seat, or avoid sitting next to me when I'm wearing short… Continue reading Anxious Human Here (4.0)

The Verge Becomes The Edge

I don't generally include trigger warnings on my blog posts, but as a forewarning, this post deals pretty explicitly with suicide and suicidal ideation. You know yourself. If this isn't a safe topic for you, please don't read on. It started on Wednesday. I say that's when it started, but of course it's difficult to… Continue reading The Verge Becomes The Edge

On The Verge

The emotions pile on and on and on. Anger and frustration and sadness and anxiety and stress and fear. On and on and on am I swathed in irresistible urges to hurt myself, to binge, to cut, to do something worse. On and on and on it goes. It's an endless hurt mapped by scars… Continue reading On The Verge

My Self-Harm Story

The first time I hurt myself I was sixteen. I used a pin, and scratched the part of my body I despised the most at the time - my hips. I blamed myself for my brother's cancer diagnosis. I blamed myself for the shouting that accompanied his move back in with my parents. I blamed… Continue reading My Self-Harm Story

Anxious Human Here (3.0)

It's me again, your regular anxious Rosie. Here are the things that are making me anxious: Do people even like me, or are they just pretending? My colleagues laugh, but is it with me, or at me? I sing aloud as I slice bread; do they think that it's weird? Are they pretending to like… Continue reading Anxious Human Here (3.0)