All over the place

Out at sea

Out at sea

BPD, good olde Borderline Personality Disorder. Always there to give you a reason to not understand yourself and how your moods can change without any seemingly obvious trigger.

Yesterday I am with my psychiatrist and psychologist in a very bad state. I’m telling them about what I’ve been speaking about on here for a week or so. This weird state that I have been in. Feeling numb and nothingness. Almost empty of thoughts and the thoughts I do have, even if ‘unpleasant’ and would normally bother me, don’t bother me. Physically no energy. That I don’t want to be with people. All I want is silence. To lay in my bed with my fleece blanket over my head in the lovely silence and calmness of nothingness. Both psychiatrist and psychologist were very concerned about me and this situation I find myself to be in. There is always something. If it’s not numbness then it’s feeling too much. And the other way around. Both extremes. I told them how I don’t feel either way yes or no about things and that I had self-harmed again on the weekend and after thinking about it, I think it was because I was feeling numb and nothing and it was horrible and weird for me. Like being calm, but not actually being calm. So I self-harmed to try and feel something. And I damn felt the pain. I told them how I went over and over with the Japanese art knife. Every swipe drew blood and I carried on doing it for what felt like ages. And if you see my thigh, you can see that it went on for quite a while. So we came to the conclusion about that. Then they ask about suicide. Hmm. Yesterday, like I said, I was not yes or no about anything. I said I don’t know, I don’t know what is going on in the back of my mind. It’s a bit scary because I feel so numb and not alive that maybe I could do something impulsively. In the end, as concerned as they were and even I said I don’t know what is going on with me, we are all aware that it is in my hands in the end, and all I can hope for is that I carry on having some form of common sense which says that I will NEVER end my own life. But my mind doesn’t seem to work this way… so… echhh.

My psychologist was that concerned that she asked to meet with me today too. The psychiatrist said to meet him next week and usually it’s every 2-3 weeks.

Upon waking up in the morning, my mood and how I was feeling was totally different than the last several days. I have energy today. There’s some kind of burst of energy inside of me which feels a bit ‘high’ and peculiar. I sat and chatted with my psychologist and whilst we did talk about serious stuff, of course, I was really vocal and to compare the last several days to today, is like oil and water… That’s not the expression that I really wanted to use but I’m trying to explain it in some way that makes it clear that it’s not that yesterday I was totally depressed and today not depressed, it’s not that… It’s all of the other symptoms like my emotions, if I have anxiety (no), energy levels, the level of hope I am feeling and all the way to me being so much more vocal and I saw today I was speaking in a way in which I don’t normally speak. I was speaking full sentences. I was clear. Everything I said was clear. I’d even go as far to say that I sounded very intelligent, like, really. Weird. Where did that come from?

And so the Borderline journey goes on.

I’m in utter confusion. Not much seems to be me thinking and doing things consciously. But today, yes. It’s like my brain switching on and off. I see NO reason as to why I would be feeling like this today compared to the last several days. Obviously, it’s BPD, or maybe I am some rapid cycling bipolar chick, who knows. It’s just as complicated as usual. On days like these I am feeling so much better and I genuinely seem to feel that. But if someone asked me the reasons why I am feeling different today than the last several days, I would not know how to answer or explain that. I do not have many days like this by far. It’s maybe literally a couple of days in a month maximum and recently I didn’t have a day like this in over the space of two months and was just going downhill and ended up in hospital for a month and a half because of extreme depression that I’ve never felt so strongly before. So I feel all positive now, and that is OK. But I am aware that things can (and do) change within an instant.

My heart is out at sea… My soul… I feel like that’s not a part of me now. I am just a physical being that can change within a second or change within 2 months. It’s irrational and unstable. I’m back and forth between being in so many different ‘situations’, I can’t even keep up with myself! When I say my heart/soul is out at sea, that feels true to me. My heart and soul are the things that make me understand myself and life. To be connected. I have that disconnect hugely. I am in a place of not understanding a huge majority of the time. I wish I had that heart and soul with me and that I could be connected with those things that is the very root of my being, rather than feeling in a maze and I’m just running around and the walls are all the same, I’m just running in different directions, I’m lost, I’m all over the place. I have no logic. Is it a maze that has an exit? Where I can move on to being out of that maze and have a clearer mind and know myself… I hope. I’ve somehow got to ‘get a hold on myself’. Why? How? When? Speechless. Staring in to space. Am I me? Who am I? Why? How? When? Wow.

So many names and labels

My ‘diagnoses’ currently on my health file with my GP and it gets plastered everywhere on even blood test referrals. Many a name. Many a diagnosis. I also have ‘smoker’ even though I quit more than a year ago. It stays on your record for some reason. And the word ‘obesity’ is crazy. I said that to my GP. That’s just the term they use even though I’m only carrying some extra weight that I know I need to lose but I am far from being obese. My BMI is 30.02.



I’m still in a horrible state. I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s to do with the raising of the Wellbutrin. When people say that they don’t want to be on psychiatric medications because it numbs them out and they feel nothing, this is how I am and it’s horrible. Meeting tomorrow with both my psychiatrist and psychologist. One on one meetings, the first with my psychiatrist since I left hospital a month ago. They both don’t know that I self-harmed again on the weekend so that’s going to be fun telling them. Honestly, if they ask all the questions like do I have the urge to self-harm again and what about worse thoughts… I honestly feel so nothingness and like nothing matters any more and I just can’t be bothered, I will answer neither negatively or positively. It all feels possible. I can’t say either way. My bed is becoming my haven. Instead of a full day of things, I spend a few hours in bed here and there and just pray to fall asleep or at least lay there, blanket over my head, calm and closed eyes and not to have to talk to anyone, and just pass the time. I went to work today and don’t get me wrong, I’m not just giving up and not trying. I am trying my best in this situation and all I can do is my best. I don’t know what will come of this empty-nothingness feeling where I don’t care any more about the possibility of making any progress, because 5 years has proven no way is there progress so I may as well give up on that for now. So I’m doing most of what I have on my schedule, just floating along, going from place to place, doing what I’ve got to do and leaving and not really feeling that I am alive and living.

I don’t know what is with me

I don’t understand my mental state at the moment. I say at the moment. But it has been since that hospitalisation of a month and a half in which I left about a month ago. Then 2 weeks after I was discharged from hospital I had that meeting, so that was 2 weeks ago now, and that seemed to reinforce whatever this mental state I am in and it became stronger.

It feels like I am at pretty much the same level of depression since leaving the hospital. In a way, I have been feeling relief physically as I’ve had no anxiety weirdly and I guess the general feeling that I have is numbness. I don’t know if this is ‘better’ than how I have felt in the past where I feel things so so strongly. I’m not really having any extreme mood swings like I had pre-hospitalisation.

I don’t know how to term the way I am feeling. Maybe nothingness. I’m in a strange state of calmness that doesn’t feel good. Like I mentioned before, actually, physically I am not suffering there like I usually do because of anxiety and mood swings when I’m triggered by something. In a way, it’s not something I have decided, but it perhaps feels like I have given up. Like I say, since this hospitalisation and meeting. Perhaps I have accepted the reality of it all? And unfortunately, if that is the case, then it’s actually not such a great thing.

Maybe I was in so much distress (which I was) that I had a fight or flight moment and my mind went for flight and that’s still where I am. I am in flight and there’s no fight going on.

I feel that maybe it’s medication induced since my anti-depressant was increased to the maximum in the hospitalisation I just had. I was on 300mg of Wellbutrin and the rules here are that is the maximum to give someone. But in the States, they give up to 450mg. So whilst I was in hospital, as we had seen a year ago since starting the Wellbutrin that it was the only anti-depressant to help me, at least in terms of keeping on a steady depressed line and not falling much below that. I think the Wellbutrin has done some weird levelling out in a way and it’s stopped me having such strong reactions to things. Like I tried to say before, it’s more of a feeling of nothingness or numbness.

In a way, I wonder if I am actually feeling better. Maybe this feeling and state I am in is not depression as such, but that I am actually a hell of a lot depressed than I was before.

But then there is the self-harm. I self-harmed 2 Thursdays ago and again this weekend that just passed. I hadn’t self-harmed in 6 months and now I’ve self-harmed twice in the space of a week and a half. And the first time was bad. I needed stitches and to be assessed by a psychiatrist so was sent in an ambulance to the main hospital from the walk-in place I had originally gone to as they have no psychiatrists working there. I was quite tearful when I went to the walk-in place. The nurse asked me questions if I cut myself in order to die so I said of course not. She asked me more things, and whilst I don’t agree with what she wrote on the report which I had to take with me in the ambulance to the main hospital, I can not deny that it’s totally untrue as to what she wrote. She wrote that I was a medium suicide risk. I’ve never had that before when I had cut twice and needed also to be sent to be assessed twice and neither when I took a handful of random pills and alcohol and was just given fluids and anti-nausea medication via an IV from midnight until 5am when they sent me home no questions asked.

I don’t have plans to end my life. I know how I would do it if I were to do it, but I don’t see that as making me a medium suicide risk. I’m sure many people that are both actively suicidal and also in a non-suicidal state probably know how they would end it. It’s not a grand plan I have worked out in my head. I’d just jump from a very high building and there would be no chance of my survival. But I’m not thinking I want to do that. I am not suicidal. With all I’ve gone through and am still going through these 5 years, I can say at least right now, that I actually still want to live. Maybe that would be different if I didn’t have the most adorable baby nephew and two young lovely nieces. I don’t know. But the subject of suicide has not been bothering me whilst I have been in this state.

I’d usually have constant intrusive thoughts about suicide and tons of triggers of things that have happened to me and have flashbacks and nightmares and be taunted by all of it… But now… I’m not taunted by anything because there is nothing ‘there’. As I write this, I can only come to the conclusion that it is medication induced, and it’s made me feel like I am not alive on one hand, but on the other, not the other extreme of being suicidal. It’s hard to explain.

I’ve been feeling generally sick since the hospitalisation. It’s maybe 50/50. Sometimes I feel just nothing mentally and physically and then on the other side, I feel physically sick but not in a shaken up anxiety-filled way or agitated way. Numb sickness. Nothing sickness. My oh my. I don’t know myself so it’s hard to write and try to explain how all of this feels for me.

To end, I guess it is the fight or flight, and I am on flight mode. The medication has done something which on one hand feels good because I am calm, but on the other, I am totally numbed out. I feel like I don’t care about anything really and I’m functioning a bit less and the times I am not functioning which is probably a couple of days a week or three days a week, I am laying in bed with my eyes closed. I feel calm but not in a good way and all I am thinking is that I want to fall asleep and sleep away the day. I want it to be midnight all the time when I go to bed and nothing before or after that. I feel like I’ve internalised everything too, even though I haven’t done that consciously. I just can’t be bothered to talk or think about anything. I feel numb-lazy-don’t-care-about-a-thing-whatever. But then I go and do pretty darn bad and angry self-harm which does just not fit in with the possibility of me maybe not being depressed. Do you see what I mean? I’m calm, or that’s how it feels, but then the next minute, without seemingly thinking about anything in particular or being triggered be something, I am going over and over and over my skin with a knife and on top of that feel like I have a lack of control as to the level or how much I self-harm those two times. On the weekend, I just calmly got out my art knife, laid on my back on my bed with my knees bent up, got a roll of kitchen papers and cut and cut and cut until I had papers and papers full of blood. I didn’t feel anything. Well, I actually felt the pain. But it did nothing for me. I’d usually self-harm in order to calm down about something or at least it would have that affect on me where it relaxes me for a couple of hours. But I’m already ‘relaxed’. However, relaxed is not the right word here. It seems like I am relaxed, and perhaps it feels like it, but there is something deep down so rotten that I just can’t get to and I can’t see. I don’t know what it is.

My psychiatrist and psychologist don’t know about the second self-harming I did this weekend. I’m meeting them one after the other on Wednesday morning. I don’t know what that will bring. I will just say what I have pretty much said here because there’s no other way to explain it. I don’t deem the way I am feeling as being so dangerous, but maybe I just don’t see that and perhaps I’m actually in a worse state than I actually feel I am in. That’s why I have no idea what the psychiatrist will say to me or do with me. Just tell me off for self-harming and arrange to meet him again in another 2 weeks time and send me out of his office, or he will perhaps see this maybe isn’t a good situation, or OK situation at all and God forbid, send me to hospital. It’s utterly confusing. I am confused but maybe others, like my psychiatrist will have experience of having patients in this state and therefore he will know what to say and/or do with me.


More self-harm

In my 16 years of self-harming, maybe this has happened 3 times. I have self-harmed today after only doing so 9 days ago. And that needed stitches.

Today, I laid on my back on my bed with my knees bent up and just cut at my thigh for ages. It was superficial and then the same thing as 9 days ago happened where it’s ‘not enough’ and so I go back at it and back again and again until literally 9 hours later, it’s still bleeding slightly and just won’t stop that slight bleeding. It was close to needing stitches too but I managed to hold myself back. Not that it makes much of a difference. I’ve done what I have done and I’m going to have to face the consequences either way. But if it was ‘superficial’ then it wouldn’t be ‘as bad’. But just like my psychiatrist said about last weeks self -harm, ‘you needed stitches. That’s going one step up’. I agree with him.

Now I don’t know what is going to happen. I can say now that, really, that is it for now. I really don’t think I’m going to go just another week and do it once again. This has already gone too far. I ‘got away’ with last weeks self-harm by the skin of my teeth. I hear my psychiatrist’s mind ticking over thinking what to do with me, if anything, or some way to help me, or be angry at me, or threaten me with something. But he didn’t. He asked me if my care worker and social worker knew and I told him that they do. He asked ‘so what did they say about it?’. So I told him how my care worker said ‘why did you do that!? I am going to hit you!’. Kind of trying to lighten things up there. She said I should have called her before doing it. I said I was so far gone because of the meetings I had that day that it was one of those moments where self-harm of some sort IS going to happen. That’s how things stand now at that level. He asked me what my social worker said and I told him that we were SMSing each other and she just said that it’s great I didn’t do it for 6 months. That I am strong. That I will succeed and feel better. Have patience (I hate that one). And just feel better and take care. The psychiatrist is obviously slightly more ‘strict’ when it comes to this. He doesn’t go about it in a way of being nice and having so much outward empathy. He takes the hard approach. And that’s when he hesitated and the slight silence for a moment was him thinking how to reply to me, and that’s when he said ‘you needed stitches. That’s going one step up’.

Even though it’s still bleeding a bit 9 hours later, I have dealt with it myself because I can see that there is nothing to really stitch there. Maybe the steri-strips, but I’ve never had those so I don’t know. I put a tight bandage around it for 3 hours to try and stop the bleeding but it still refuses to dry up and stop. But it’s a tiny bit so hopefully by tomorrow, it will dry up.

Damn. I’ve screwed up. But ‘screwed up’? In all honesty, have I really screwed up? The SITUATION is screwed up. My LIFE is screwed up. Regardless of the self-harming. And with the situation as it stands and the truth of it all that everything is looking more and more hopeless and helpless, then I’ve self-harmed. I’m not saying it’s OK. But I can’t say that I have much regret for doing it. I’m in so much distress. I really am. I had urges on Thursday night really strongly to self-harm too and I called my care worker and we just had a chat and it made me feel better and I avoided self-harming. But today, once again, I fell back in to doing it with much less of a control over it.

So what are they going to do with me? There’s nothing they really can do. I can’t see them putting me in to the closed ward of the hospital because that would be for a few days at the very most and it is a pure punishment to be put there just for a few days like this in this situation. But I understand that they don’t know what to do to me. They know that the closed ward is not ‘for me’. If they sent me there, it would be a pure punishment and not to do with keeping me safe. It’d show me that I’ve gone too far and therefore punish me and if I do it again, no doubt, they will send me there again. If they sent me there, well, it’s hell there. I don’t think I deserve a punishment like that. Just being with 30 other women who are totally out of their minds in psychosis and stuff. It’s not what I need.

But what do I need? I don’t know. I need DBT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What else can I say? I do not need high-stress-level-living in a hostel as when I was there I self-harmed just as much, if not more, because of the horribleness there. But I know I am screwing up. On one hand I am saying no hostel because I have a thousand reasons why not. I know it would do me real bad to go back there. It’s like a mini-hospital there. Add on a teenage bootcamp too and being treated like a 10 year old in other ways. I’m not even going to go in to all of this. Like how when I was in hospital this time around for the month and a half, there were 4 girls out of 5 from the hostel I was in that were hospitalised with me. 4 out of 5. The hostel doesn’t stop the revolving door either. Seriously. Not.

So I am probably just left with being threatened with things like the closed ward. I’m on a fine line but I am not messing around. I don’t blame my carers for being very concerned about me and I wish it wasn’t like this, I really don’t. I don’t want to put people in such situations where they know I haven’t got a place to be in the country like with my dad if he lived here and I could be with him until I was feeling a bit better at least. The SITUATION is difficult for everyone from so many angles. I can’t see how I’m going to be given just a warning again because it’s their duty of care to probably take me out of this situation so that I don’t do it again. In any other ward of the hospital, I have access to plenty of things to self-harm with, whereas all you have in the closed ward are walls to bang your head against and plastic chairs to have a throw about if you need to vent. They strip you of everything. No mobile phones, no laces, no cosmetics, even personal items that you can’t even harm yourself with like a book for example. It’s pure hell of a punishment. Or if you want to see it as keeping me ‘safe’. It’s just going to make me feel worse and I know that before even going there from past experiences. And I can’t be in any other ward because if I am there for the self-harming, the open ward and even the emergency ward are not for this.

Ugh. I really don’t know. I just sincerely hope that I’m going to get a control of this. As much as I say I don’t care about hurting myself… I can obviously see that today has really pushed things.

I was at my sister’s yesterday from about 5pm until 11pm. We spent at least a couple of hours talking about my situation and what I can do because what I have now is not helping. And coming up to 5 years of this day in and day out and making no progress and being more out of control emotionally more and more. It was a very difficult conversation. We weren’t arguing but my sister ended up saying at the end of the conversation that from now on, she doesn’t want to talk about anything to do with my situation. She said she will ask me how I am and it’s not going to go further than that.

I’ve got just work tomorrow but I am meeting with a social worker there to speak about what I want to achieve from working in this protected workplace and if it is helpful for me and if any changes need to be made. It’s this lovely social worker I had in the hospital, so I can’t see how I can avoid telling her about the self-harm. I’ve never kept it a secret or lied about it. But at least I was going to wait until I meet with my care worker on Monday and then tell her what happened today. Oh yea, my (useless) social worker I have from the organisation where I have the protected living services from is leaving working there so I will be getting a new social worker. Hopefully that will be a positive move and change. This is why it was SO tough in last weeks meeting because all my carers pointed fingers at each other for not fulfilling their jobs. And I was in the middle in total agreement, but how awkward. But it was true. It’s not that I am blaming others for me self-harming and not progressing but on the other hand, my social worker has been distant and I’ve been left to having to sort out the loads of problems I had sorting out my benefits which was her job to help me with and she did nothing. My care worker is apparently meant to be more motivational and making sure my lifestyle is perhaps healthier like going for walks with me and her initiating it. My psychologist has not gone according to what she asked me at the beginning of the therapy together where she asked me what kind of therapy I think I need. I’d told her proactive, 2 way, challenge me, CBT and be ACTIVE and not the stagnant 5 years of therapy I have had thus far where the psychologist stays quiet and it leaves me talking to break the silences and them nodding at me and not giving me anything back. I told my psychologist this at the beginning, like 7 months ago. And I only get 1 year with her so we are in to the second half of therapy together and NOW AGAIN it’s been said ‘OK, yes, I will change the way we do therapy together’. But that’s been said twice in the last several months and now this is the third time… So will things change this time? Who knows. And no news on the DBT that I’ve been waiting on for nearly 2 years. Basically a ton of people waiting for it from all over the city and them having only one group of 8 people in DBT at each time, so, yea, who knows where I am on this list that is no doubt not according to the number on the list you are on. If you’re more screwed up and need the therapy more urgently than another person, then no doubt you would be bumped up the list. And I haven’t self-harmed now in order that that will happen. But just thinking about it now, it could in a (un)fortunately help me get to the DBT group.

Ugh. I know. I know. Self-harming is really bad, not good, not healthy, etc. I know. But this real dark place I am in right now means that if I cut my arm or thigh instead of my wrists or actually go ahead with how I know I would kill myself, then for now, the self-harming is the lesser evil. But I know now, this really has to be it somehow. I can’t continue doing it so regularly. Whatever reason. Without the DBT. I don’t want to get deep in to this. Just trying to think of ways of avoiding it like calling my care worker etc. It’s just the level of hopelessness and helplessness now that is extremely bad and I’m obviously not coping with it very well at all. Darn. Darn this. Really. DARN.