Sunday August 19th 2018

The weekend has been a tough one. Every little thing as reminded me of my mother, her perfume, her smile. I don't usually cry about her, but I've not been able to stop myself. A photograph of me and her hangs above my bed, so I can see her everyday. As does one of me and my Grandad. I can't explain how I feel currently, I'm mad at her but also miss her. It's confusing.

I live in constant fear of the day my Grandfather passes away, he adopted me and he is my life. Even thinking about it makes me tear up. Fuck. I had planned out my suicide for when it happened. I think about ending my life at least once a week and usually it's nothing more than a fleeting feeling but this time it lingered more, outstaying it's welcome.

Since my occupational therapist and case worker were taken away when I was accidentally discharged from the adult mental health service I have no care plan in place. I have to rely on the crisis team who's only advice is 'don't kill yourself'. My mind goes blank, I had paragraphs in my head for what I wanted to say and it true BPD fashion they were wiped clean.

I know I'm struggling, and I know I'm a handful when I'm like this.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Tuesday 21st August 2018 (trigger warning)

Well thus far this week has been awful. Crying myself to sleep and nightmares every time I close my eyes. For most people seasonal  depression is a winter time occurrence but for me it seems to start around April, and end October. I'm finding myself craving company but also not, it's a horrible dilemma. The swirling blackness inside my brain keeps teasing release only to pull me further inside, cruelly joking at the metaphorical sunrise. Those previously buried thoughts of harming myself beginning to emerge as though they were hibernating. Self harm has always been a ultimate worst case, break incase of emergency coping mechanism. but recently it's been more of a pick me up, the ol' hurt myself to see if I still feel schtick. I feel betrayed by my brain and my self sabotaging thoughts, the fight or flight instinct toying with the idea of going to Philly to avoid my problems. Buying stuff I don't need to mask the pain. Borderline is no joke and mix it with severe d...
Read more

My diagnosis and what they mean to me.

It took a horrible turn of events for me to get diagnosed. I  don't think anyone gets a diagnosis at a good point in their life, everyone has that one event that started it. For me it was having my appendix removed. Strange I know, but thats what happened. It was September 2015, I had returned from living in Philadelphia for a few years. I was staying with a friend, I was due to go back to Philly at the end of the month. My visa has required me to physically be in England for a period of time, so as far as I was aware I was going back to the life I loved. Then disaster struck. I got sick, a few days I dealt with stomach pains and put it down to something I had eaten. But when it moved to my right hand side and became almost unbearable I knew something was wrong.  I went to A&E on September 11th, a Wednesday if I recall. I was admitted immediately and had tests to confirm I had appendicitis and would be having the offending organ removed in due course. I was on a war...
Read more