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.

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.

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.

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.

React.

I wonder how you react to bad news. Are you someone who immediately worries about others, or how you will be affected, or the sadness of the situation? Maybe you are quick to empathise, or quick to try to solve?

Me? I tend to internalise everything I hear. I often need a while to process news before I can begin to unpack how I really feel about it. It’s like I have an internal carousel, and every time something happens the news jumps on the carousel, except I have no idea when it’s going to get off again. And while it’s going round and round in my head, I make assumptions about the world and the people in it. So certain things will set off an internal chain-reaction that make me appear to over-react to something others think is insignificant. It’s a massive part of my illness and it’s only recently that I’ve realised how much I do it.

So, I have to apologise if in the past I’ve over-reacted (or under-reacted) to some news. Perhaps I wasn’t quite ready to process. Perhaps I was over-processing something that spilled out when I heard what you were saying. Perhaps there were just too many things on the carousel, and lots got off at the same time. I’m sorry. There is so much going on inside my head that you will never see. I hope you can be patient with me.

Choice.

I made a choice yesterday to take some practical steps towards recovery. It wasn’t easy - it had been a long and stressful day and my mind was working on overload. But I knew that I had to take control. I had to choose well-being in the midst of agonising anxiety and uncertainty. Because I didn’t choose to get ill. I didn’t choose to experience some of the things that I have had to experience. And I know that a lot of my friends who also suffer with mental illness have also been through horrible situations that were neither their choosing nor their fault.

But today, this moment, we have a choice. Some choose to let anxiety and worry and pain take over. And there is no shame in that. Sometimes you feel like you don’t have the strength to fight against it. But if you can, if you can find within yourself the strength to choose life over death, joy over pain, hope over despair, then you can make it. Choose to take steps, however small, walking or perhaps even crawling, on that road of recovery. You do not walk that road alone. There is hope ahead, my friend. Be kind to yourself. Believe that no matter what you’ve been through, it is not your fault and you can choose to get well again. We’ve got this. 💚

Not Giving Up.

Being totally honest:

Life is hard right now.

Having a mental illness is hard.

Making decisions is hard.

Dealing with difficult situations is hard.

Supporting friends and loving them right is hard.

Not having the time or energy to see my beloved family is hard.

Not having a job or the ability to do a job is hard.

Not having enough money in the bank or food in the cupboards is hard.

Waiting for therapy and dreading it at the same time is hard.

Not getting enough sleep at night and being too tired each day is hard.

Knowing people who were once my friend but now don’t know how to talk to me is hard.

Missing out on events because I just can’t face being there is hard.

Wanting to do things, then freaking out last minute and staying in bed is hard.

Dealing with my emotions and thoughts and feelings and anxieties is hard.

Knowing there are very few people who understand how I feel right now is hard.

That’s the truth. But you know what? This time, I’m not gonna give up. I’m not going to become a statistic of mental illness. Cause you know what? It might be hard but I’m strong. And my God is stronger. So no matter how hard life gets, or how much I struggle, I may not be standing but I will lay face down on the Rock that never breaks or falters. And one day, I will stand.

Pours.

The weather has finally aligned with my mood of the week.
I’m never ‘a little bit’ of anything.
Whatever emotion I feel, I feel it completely.
Overwhelmingly.
Like a tidal wave.
Drowning me.
Drowning out everything else.
I can’t stop it.
Can’t fight it.
It’s so much easier,
To just accept it.
So it never really rains.
It pours.

Truth.

This is a truth that I am fighting with at the moment. In all honesty, I think the hardest thing for people to understand about EUPD (or BPD as it is more commonly known) is that I “feel” every emotion on a deeper and more excruciating level than others might. Especially with regards to real or imagined abandonment. This means that at times, when I am not in a good place mentally, I will experience and overreact to the smallest thing, because my illness causes me to believe things are a certain way, when perhaps they’re not. (But I can’t see that.)

The trouble is being able to recognise when my reaction is BPD based, and not truth based. I’m not trying to be cryptic, an example might be, when in a friendship with someone, if they don’t text in the nature they normally do, or perhaps don’t reply to a text, I will astronomically overread into the situation, believing myself to have annoyed/angered them, and therefore berate myself for my own incompetence and stupidity when actually, perhaps they were texting in a rush or were preoccupied or some other reason I don’t think of at the time.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that (sometimes) friendships can be really hard for those with BPD. And I guess it can be hard for the ones on the other side as well. When the darkness of mental illness closes in around someone, it can be difficult to know what to say or do for those who are suffering. Sometimes it can be really uncomfortable. So, I just want to say, it’s okay to not have all the answers. It’s okay if you don’t know what to do. But please, I’m begging you, please don’t let your discomfort or awkwardness stop you reaching out to someone. Just a text to say, I’m thinking of you. You’re not forgotten. Comment a 💜 or a *hug* on a post. Let them know you hear them. You see them. It doesn’t have to be big. They may not reply themselves. But sometimes the smallest things can make the biggest difference. In a time when mental illness is all over social media, don’t make things over complicated. A hug or a smile can shine a bright light into someone who can only see the darkness.

Thanks for listening folks. 🙂