Suicide.

So let’s talk about Suicide. It’s one of those subjects where people often fall in one of three camps: those who have experienced it, those who kinda understand it, and those who really really don’t.

But you know what? It’s okay to not understand it; to not know what it feels like to think you’d be better off dead; to think that the world would be better off without you; to be so fed up of the pain inside that you would do anything, ANYTHING, to make it stop. Or to not know what it’s like to live day after day with thoughts and urges to harm yourself that you don’t want or understand. If you don’t understand it, count yourself as blessed.But don’t be naive to think it might never happen to you.

I doubt anyone spends life thinking that their physical health will remain top notch forever. We exercise and we drink water and we eat 5-a-day in order to keep our bodies healthy. And yet, accidents can happen and illnesses can occur where we need to see a doctor unexpectedly. Well, the same is true of our mental health. One day, something might happen that knocks us for six and rather than hide it or be made to feel ashamed, we need to be honest and open and seek help from professionals.

Personally, I never expected to spend so much time in hospital this year. I never expected to need to see so many mental health professionals, or to be diagnosed with an illness that I’ve probably had and been mistreated for since I was a teenager. But it happened. And I’ve discovered new strengths and depths to myself that I was never aware of.

So on this, World Suicide Prevention Day, it’s okay to need help. It’s okay if you don’t understand suicide. It’s okay if you’ve never considered it. It’s okay if you think about it every day. But wherever you are with your mental health - be kind to yourself. Seek help when you need it. Dig deep and discover your inner warrior. Talk to friends if it helps. Sit on a hill and watch the sky change blue to pink. Feel the wind on your face. Sleep the afternoon away. Play with your kids, or your friends kids. Do whatever you need to do to get through today. Because tomorrow needs you.

Loneliness/Being Alone

I’ve talked about this before, but on days like this, where the only person I spoke to face-to-face was through a fence, I realise how isolating living alone can be. I’ve lived alone before. (And lived with people that I barely saw day-to-day.) But in Essex, it was different. I was on home-turf. Living in your home town, with those friends you’ve grown up with, whose parents know you and practically treat you like one of their own, where you can drop by their place any time of day and they’d welcome you in and tell you to help yourself to a drink. They understand you and your family. They get the weirdness and uniqueness and the quirkiness of you, and accept it without question. Those streets where even the benches have memories attached to them.

But the world is bigger than that, and as much as I miss it and miss my friends, I’m glad that I listened to God’s quiet whisper and ventured out into the wider world. Nowadays, I eat 90% of my meals sitting in bed watching a DVD. I can go a full 24 hours without seeing or speaking to another human being. Most of my in-depth and meaningful conversations happen via social media and text. And most nights I sneak away to a pretty place to watch the sunset/city lights on my own. When you see it written down, you might think that I lead a pretty lonely life. And in some aspects, that’s true. But in others... I’ve never been more free in all my life. No regrets.

This is Where I Belong

Listened to this song by Housefires on repeat as I drove home today. These are basically the entire lyrics to the song, so it kinda became a mantra I was singing to myself as I journeyed back to my flat to be alone. I wanted it to become one of the recurring thoughts that I have in my head as opposed to all the negative ones that ride the carousel of my mind. Because my head is full of negative thoughts, and sometimes they make my world dark and hopeless. They tell me that I am alone and unloveable. That I am useless and a burden to everyone around me. They tell me I am ugly and no one wants to be my friend. And I can’t stop those thoughts. They come and go frequently, they lurk in the shadows of my mind and they pop up at any time. I have no idea how to stop them, they’ve been around as long as I can remember, like wallpaper that’s faded and gloomy and you don’t even notice it. So mostly I try to ignore them but some days they are louder than others. But just maybe, one by one I can replace them with words like this. “This is where I belong. Held by the arms of love.” Thank you Jesus.

Choosing Me.

Last week I made a decision to walk away when I could have kept trying. I chose to put myself first where I could have allowed my own feelings and hurts to sink beneath the surface in order to spare the other person. I chose to stand by the way I felt rather than apologise for it. I chose to put myself first, when usually I would have done the complete opposite.

And that could have left me feeling guilty and selfish. But this time I knew I needed to do it. I needed to take the advice that everyone has been giving me since the day I left hospital. I needed to prioritise my own recovery - even if it went against every belief and instinct in my body. And maybe that meant I wasn’t there for others when I would normally have been. But this week, where sleep and alone time have been largely the norm, my body thanked me for it. And I can’t apologise for that. I can’t apologise for being who I am. For saying the truth and choosing to put my own mental health and emotional wellbeing above everyone else’s for once. I’m sorry if you got hurt. I’m sorry if you didn’t like what I had to say. But I’m not going to apologise for being me. I’m not going to apologise for choosing myself for once. Because I never do. 

Anyone who knows me well knows that about me. They’ve been telling me to do it for months. But I’ve always put others needs and wants ahead of my own; because I believed it was the right thing to do. But now I’m tired; no, I’m exhausted. I’ve been sleeping 12-14 hours a day this week. And I still feel like I need to sleep more. I’ve had no energy. And I’ve cried; oh how I’ve cried. And mostly, I’ve been alone. But that’s okay. It’s okay because it’s what I needed to feel and what I’ve needed to be. And for the first time in a long time, I’ve actually felt free - free to do what I needed to do to aid my recovery. Because I’ve not felt responsible for anyone else’s. It’s not my job to keep anyone else going. I’m no longer obliged to bury my own hurt and my own wishes for the sake of other people. 

So that’s how it is. I’m sorry if you’ve been hurt. But I can’t apologise for doing what I needed to do to get through another week. I hit breaking point and I needed out. I needed time. I needed to walk this part of the journey alone. And I needed to learn the hard lesson, that the only person that can be responsible for your life - is you. I can’t be responsible for yours and you can’t be responsible for mine.

Bad Day.

It’s one of those days. One where the perks of being a borderline are felt deep and raw, heartbreaking and uncontrollable. Attachment issues. Fear of abandonment. Anxiety. Distorted self-worth and identity. These things, amongst BPD friends we laugh at them. We wind each other up about it. We might even make a few jokes that cut just a little too far beneath the surface. But when they rear their heads, in days like today, there is nothing to laugh about. There is just crawling into a ball and refusing to eat, drink or move. There is crying and more crying. Isolation and despair. There is fear and there is deep pain.

In the last 48 hours, I have lost two of my professional support team. Both my support worker at Saltbrook and now my CCO have gone. New jobs, new lives and opportunities: for them. And for me, a hurt I can’t express. A wound that will take me many many years and counselling sessions to unpack. I don’t do goodbyes. I can’t deal with people walking out of my life.

Ironically, as an INFJ, if you let me down consistently I will eventually do an INFJ door slam on you. I will cut toxic people out of my life regularly. And I know that I push you away, cause it’s all part of the chronic controversy that is Borderline Personality. But if you’re a friend, a help, someone I can talk to and rely on; someone I love and care about: Please don’t leave me. Please stick around long enough to see me fight this horrible illness. I’m really trying. Today is just not a good day.

Healer.

I was listening to this song the other day as I drove home from Essex, and it suddenly struck me: I may not have an illness like cancer or diabetes or epilepsy that needs healing, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need God’s healing in my life as much as the next person. Whenever I have been at any service or event in recent years where there has been prayer for healing, I know that my thoughts and my brain start to wander and I switch off, because I think that it doesn’t apply to me. I sit back and allow ‘other people’ to ask God for healing; people who ‘need it more’.

But I need healing from my selfishness, and from my greed, from bitterness and anger, from past hurts I haven’t let go of and disappointments I haven’t accepted. I need healing from grudges I haven’t relented on and promises that have been broken. I need healing from feeling unworthy, from loneliness and from self-hatred. I need healing from the mental torture I put myself through every day. From feeling not good enough and from thinking that I’m useless. From unrealistic expectations for others and for myself. I need healing from my insatiable desire to be loved, from my fear of abandonment, from my tendency to push the people I love away.

Surely if God is capable of healing leprosy and blindness and paralysis then He can also heal me of all the things that are holding me back from living a life of freedom in Him? How oblivious I’ve been! Thank you Jesus for opening my eyes and helping me to see. May you pour your blessing and grace upon my life right now. 🙏

Letter of Hope.

Dear friend,

There will come a time in your life, that no matter how much careful planning you try to do, no matter how many friends you invite out, no matter how many professionals have your name on file, you will find yourself alone. And there will be others you can call. But you won’t, for fear of worrying them. So you will keep the sadness locked up inside. And it will make you feel horribly and desperately alone. And the unanswered texts and messages will make you feel abandoned and empty. And you’ll be left wondering if everyone is really busy or if they just didn’t want to see you. So you will spend some time sobbing your heart out on a beautiful hill, wondering what happened to make life come to this.

And it is at that moment, little one, when you know that you cannot rely on anybody else in this world, that you will have to make the choice between hope and despair. Between life and death, the future, or the past. And I hope, that when that moment comes, you will find a reason to live for the tomorrows. A reason to hold onto life when all you feel is pain. A reason to keep making those tiny steps forward. Because no matter how dark the world gets when the sun retreats, there will be a tomorrow. And tomorrow needs you.

You can make it. You can hold on. Because you are not the first person to feel this sorrow. And you will not be the last. So when that time comes, when your heart is torn and the walls are crumbling, and you don’t know how you can go on: hold on. Hold on in the darkness, hold on through the pain, hold on with the knowledge that one day, you can be the one that someone else needs. The friend that didn’t give up. The one that wasn’t too busy. The light in the darkness. You can be strong dear friend, you have already survived so much.

Listening. Pt 3

And then I spent the second half of the night listening as another friend wept her heart out. She bravely shared with me things that had happened to her, things that no-one, good or bad, deserves to have happen to them. And I listened as she blamed herself. And as she told me she thought she deserved it. And if my heart had had any part of it left to break, that shattered too. I held her while she sobbed. I spoke love and hope and honesty over her for hours.

And then for a while, we both just listened to the silence. I didn’t try to give advice, because I was speechless. I didn’t try to fix the situation though I wished I could change the hurt she felt inside of her. But I also knew I couldn’t. All I could do is stay strong. And help her to make good decisions regarding her wellbeing and safety. When she was ready. It was a long night. But I knew she needed to know that I wasn’t giving up on her. And that I loved her and I believed in her and that I will always listen to all the things she never feels able to share with anyone, when she is ready to tell me. Because she is a beautiful, broken human being, just like me.

And we all need to be seen, we all need to be heard, and sometimes, we all need to just listen.

Listening. Pt 2

And then, I spent the next few hours listening. First to a friend whose wonderful family have blessed and supported me in unimaginable ways this last year. Ways I can never repay. He spoke words of love over me. He told me he knew I was struggling, and that the last week had been really hard for me, but he was proud of me. (Yes I cried again!) Just hearing someone acknowledge it, someone who just knew me without me having to explain it, was refreshing. But then I listened as he doubted himself, questioned himself, because of the way some people had treated him.

And I have to say, that hurt me more than the rest of the day had. That he could think for one second that he wasn’t good enough, and that he wasn’t living a life that God would smile over. He’s one of the most phenomenal people I have ever been blessed to meet. He is kind and generous and loving, even when no-one is looking. He goes above and beyond for so many people, and he does it without expecting recognition or reward. And it made me realise, that in all this time I have been struggling, waiting for God to move in my life: and he already has. He’s kept promises in the people He has surrounded me with. He has blessed me with an amazing church family to call home. And he’s given me friends who listen to all the things I don’t say. To all the things I wish I could say. And to all the things I say in my heart. But I realised that maybe I need to say them out loud more often. So this one is for you, dear friend.

Thanks for always listening. 😊

Listening. Pt 1

So, honestly... I’ve spent most of the last 24 hours crying. I went to bed on Wednesday crying and I woke up on Thursday morning feeling tearful and hopeless. I just wanted every difficult thing in my life to end. Truthfully, I wanted my life to end. My mind struggled to compute life past the end of the summer. My thought pattern turned unhealthy very quickly, as I began to make plans and think about who might miss me and who definitely wouldn’t. I stayed in bed crying and watching DVD’s until past lunchtime. 

In the afternoon, I’d promised to give a friend a lift to Dudley, so we went there and then to Costa where we laughed at M. McIntyre videos and truer than life memes. We talked about death, like we often do, and like we always do, we gave each other reasons to stay alive that we ignore for ourselves. 

Then I went back to my flat. And I cried some more. And I spoke to Sam on the phone and bawled down the phone to him, feeling so guilty for the pressure I put on him and how much I rely on him and all the time knowing there is little he can do to change how I feel. 

After that I lay, half-asleep in my bed until a friend text and asked if I fancied going to the shop. So we headed out, and as the sun was setting, I took her up to the back of St Andrews church where we watched the most gorgeous sunset and saw some wild horses. It’s a favourite place of mine to sit, and as we watched the colours sweep across the sky, we sat, and we breathed in the evening air and the soft stillness and the peace that comes from watching nature in all its magnificence. And I realised, what a wonderful moment to be with friends... 

 To be continued...

Honesty.

Honesty. How much is too much? I’ve been thinking about this so much recently, because often when I’m in a bad place, people will ask me a question and want me to “be honest with them” about how I’m feeling, but it doesn’t always end up being the best thing for me. So I hold back the whole truth, and I give a generic overview; the tip of the iceberg, if you will. Not sure if it’s my BPD, INJF-ness or my autistic traits but I just really struggle with generic questions like, ‘how are you?’. My brain won’t compute an answer in the socially accepted time-frame within which to answer so I say, “fine” or “yeah I’m okay.” If you want to know something direct you’re much better off asking me a direct question.

It’s certainly no secret that since getting out of hospital I have been really struggling, wishing things could be different, wishing I could somehow understand the mess my head is in. I cry at the smallest things. I cry at the big things. I feel alone and yet I’m surrounded. I feel overwhelmed and empty and every day I just hope and pray that something might suddenly just click into place; that I might begin to feel a little bit more normal.

I know I need to give myself time, to rest and recover, to give therapy a chance, to hold on to hope and love and peace that might one day drop back into my life. But it’s hard. It’s so hard.

So I just wanted to say thank you. So many of you have encouraged me and been praying for me and have been ever so patient when I just haven’t been able to do the things I normally would have. Maybe you were one of those people who asked how I was and didn’t feel like you got the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I’m sorry.

And I’m so thankful for this Insta feed. Morgan Harper Nichols posts speak so loudly to me. I read them all the time to remind myself to let grace abound and to let myself breathe. To trust that the light will break through the darkness and grace pours in day after day. Because honesty, though it might not be perfect, it is a beautiful thing.

IN!

"For we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who are called according to His purpose."

Romans 8:28

See that little two letter word there - “IN.” You might not even have noticed it. Some Bible versions don’t have it. But I have always maintained that the ‘IN’ is the most important word in the whole verse. It creates faith that is more than on the surface, faith that can anchor itself through the harshest of storms. Because whatever situation I’m in, or have been in, I know that God; if it is His will; can change it. But I also know that it doesn’t mean He will. Trusting in God means we have to trust that He knows better than us, even when we might disagree.

In the past, I’ve certainly been the victim of people mis-quoting Bible verses at me, and I don’t even know why. Telling someone that the situation they’re in wouldn’t happen if they had more faith, or that God won’t allow them to suffer, doesn’t create a deep spirituality based on a foundation of God’s truth. It creates false faith that withers and dies when the going gets tough. It creates a faith that doesn’t understand and blames God when suffering occurs. I’m glad that I’ve learnt over the years that suffering doesn’t negate a loving God, because God’s heart breaks when one of His children’s does. So no matter what pain and hurt and heartache I experience in life, I can and will trust in a loving, faithful God, who will work IN all things, and through all things, for the good of my eternal soul.

Faith Pt 3

But what happens to your faith when you don’t see things change the way you’ve been praying for them to? What happens when life doesn’t get better in the time you expected it to, or maybe never gets better? Do you keep hoping, keep praying, keep trusting? What if you get to the end of your life, and things haven’t moved an inch? Do you have the faith to hold on? If you pray and pray and pray for God to heal someone, and they die anyway, do you have the foundation and strength to keep trusting? Or is your faith in God reliant on seeing miracles happen in your life and in the lives of those around you?

 Can you believe, can you trust, even when you feel like you have never received an answer to prayer? If we believe in a God that allows us to spend eternity with Him, why would we not expect there to be faithful people who do not see God moving this side of eternity? God has all of time to make up for what happens during your life on Earth. The question is - can you remain faithful and hopeful for a lifetime without seeing the fulfilment of His promises here, trusting that you will receive your answers, your mountains will be moved, and the sea will be parted - in heaven?

‘When You don't move the mountains

I'm needing You to move

When You don't part the waters

I wish I could walk through

When You don't give the answers

As I cry out to You I will trust,

I will trust, I will trust in You.’

Lauren Daigle

Faith Pt 2

These last few days have been so hard. Those who know anything about BPD, or me in general, will know that I struggle a lot with feeling left out, abandoned and rejected. So being sent home early from camp, and then seeing post after post on social media about the wonderful time everyone else had, has been utterly heartbreaking. Had it not been for a dear friend of mine needing me to keep it together over the last few days, I’m sure I would have been an absolute mess. And this evening as we sat outside the hospital in the evening drizzle, a rainbow appeared in the sky.

It got me thinking. Yes, this last year my life has changed in ways that I never expected it to. I’ve experienced more inner turmoil than I ever thought I was capable of coping with. But this next year? I have no idea what is going to happen. I spend so much time worrying about whether things will ever get better: Will I ever stop feeling this way? Will I ever be able to cope with day to day life again? I never stop and think: what if it does?

 Noah: surrounded by God’s creatures for 40 days in a big boat while the heavens poured out more water than he’d ever seen in his life: he could have focussed on the season he was in. But I’d imagine, knowing and trusting in God, he waited (mostly patiently) for the season to come to an end. Did it make the 40 days any easier? Probably not. But maybe, just maybe, at some point his perspective changed.

 This season I’m in, it’s hard. And no amount of people quoting ‘For I know the plans...’ at me will change that. You see: (and this is where I think some Christians have a misguided belief about the meaning of Jer 29) sometimes God DOES allow hard stuff to happen in our life. Stuff that harms us and makes us vulnerable and hurts us. Stuff that breaks us down and rips our soul or our body apart. Just like he did with Job, and just like he did with Jesus. But does he leave us? No. No matter how much God hides His face, no matter how much the darkness closes in or how much the rain pours, there is always a God who is working unknown in the background; preparing mountains for us to land on in our future.

And all that hard stuff? The rain and the darkness and the brokenness that lives in our soul? In another season, God will turn that hurt into joy. He will turn darkness into light, brokenness into beautiful healing. Because IN all things, He works for good. So even though right now, life is tough, I cry more than it rains and I spend so, so many nights feeling alone and rejected, I also have faith that maybe one day I won’t. One day, I might stand on mountains again. And that’s okay. A lot can happen in a year.

Faith Pt 1

If this year has taught me anything, it’s that there are some situations that can’t be changed. Moments that once missed, are gone forever. Events that will play out no matter how much you try to avoid them. Conversations that once had, can never be forgotten. And no amount of wishing and hoping can change it. Time is fleeting.

Opportunities are as permanent as the clouds in the sky. The sun rises and the sun sets, and life goes on. There are so many things I wish I could change. So many emotions and situations I wish I could leave behind.

At the start of this week, I was so eager to hear the gentle whisper of God’s voice. Maybe He would speak into my soul and remind me of my unique place in His creation. Perhaps He might remind my inner being how much He loved me. Maybe He would heal me or release me of the immense pain I feel inside. Or fill me with supernatural peace and calm that comes only from above. It didn’t happen.

So now, as this week begins to stumble into the past, I am feeling rather disappointed. The opportunities have passed, I will never live this week again. What’s done is done. I have no idea how to feel, or even to describe the darkness that eats at my core. Everything happens for a reason, though right? Or maybe everything just happens, and we try, in our humanness, to find meaning in it. A year ago, everything was so different. A year ago, I was so different. So I guess, all things considered, no matter how fleeting time is, its effect is seen, felt, and experienced, in the moments like this.