Not much longer left



* Trigger warning. This post covers subjects such as rape and being suicidal and is an entirely depressing read. Maybe don’t read it or at least be prepared for what is written. It’s not pretty. And I don’t want to harm anyone, so I sincerely hope that I won’t *

There isn’t much longer left for me to be living like this day in day out, minute to minute. I simply can’t do it. The reason I say that there isn’t much longer for me is because nothing is changing whatsoever. As much as I am doing all I can to get better, get help from others and very importantly help myself, nothing is working. This is unfortunately not distorted thinking. It’s become a reality that not only continues on, but the more it goes on, the worse and more intense things are. So when I say that nothing is helping, even though everyone, including myself, sees that I am doing all I can do, it’s really the case. And I can not live like this for much longer. I’ve never given it a time frame and I’m still not doing so. I’ve at least been rational in that sense by saying that ‘I am starting something new now and it could work out for me but I need to give it time’. I HAVE been giving myself a fighting chance, an incredible fighting chance at getting through this, not expecting miracles, not expecting fast improvements and coming to the realisation that this is going to be and already has and is being the longest fight. You would not believe the effort I am putting in…

I started waffling here so deleted that and will try to keep this short. But in many aspects of my life I am trying to improve in many ways. I started seeing a dietician and in the first month with her, I started doing some exercise and lost 2 kilos in a month. However, nearly another month has passed now and I am feeling worse and I am in much worse of a situation in many areas of my life and I don’t feel like I’ve lost any weight. It’s more about how I feel. I don’t have scales at home to weigh myself. I do not want to become obsessed with numbers. So I see the dietician once a month and get weighed there. But this is only the second month and I can just feel that I haven’t lost weight. If I have, very very little.

I’ve been doing art and I managed to sell a lot of pieces for a massive profit. (Which only filled in a bit of the money troubles that I am already in). It began from someone asking me if she could buy one of my paintings and I was like ‘why not!?’. Then I sold a painting to another woman via advertising online and she even gave me extra money on top of what I was asking for the painting and was really happy with it. I admit, of course that gave me a good feeling. Then she sent me a photo of the painting up on her wall in her home and said how great it looks. I admit, it looks really nice. Then I had some older pieces of art that I had done a while back. A store opened up near to where I live and I saw they were selling canvases EXTREMELY cheaply and they are actually decent quality. I had someone contact me from an ad online and asked me what I have available. He said if he buys in ‘bulk’, then can he get a discount. I thought, that’s a bit weird, and I only had 6 pieces of art for sale. And then he said he wants to buy 5 of them and I was in total shock. I didn’t believe it would go through, but he came and handed me the cash in new crisp notes straight from the ATM and it was a lot of money. And I told him that I can not bend on the prices of the pieces or give him a discount and he didn’t flutter an eyelid, ‘OK’. That all happened within a week or 10 days max. And now it’s been 2 weeks, I have 2 lovely pieces of art sitting here, am working so so hard on advertising them and jumping the ads and creating a Facebook page and adding a ‘For sale’ page to my art portfolio website which I’ve had for a couple of years but has purely been there to just be a portfolio of my art and not to sell, but this has developed a bit. Problem is, I have 2 pieces of art sitting here and my money situation is dire, like the most dire I have ever been in. Plus the rental assistance I am meant to get paid screwed up and I’m now waiting on 2 months of missed payments in to my account. I’ve been running here there and everywhere to try and get it sorted out. And every time they tell me it’s sorted and I’ll get the money in 5 days time, then I don’t get it again. So Thursday I went there again to their offices whilst it was a serious heatwave here (just over 100 degrees) and I was feeling extremely weak and tired, as usual, more so these days and was told once again that it was all set up properly now and that I need to wait 8 days to receive the money. That is next Friday. If that money doesn’t go in next Friday, I can not pay my rent for my apartment and I am going to be screwed. I know my landlord will be nice to a certain degree as he knows quite a bit about my situation, but I’ve never once had a problem paying him as I’ve given the checks upfront and each month, they come out of my account absolutely fine, because I have enough money in there. Right now… You know what…? Even if I DO get paid the rental assistance money and I manage to pay my rent… I am still SCREWED. I am on serious basics of everything. I go through everything that I am paying for and there is simply nothing I can change to lessen the amount I spent per month. And this is even with my dad putting in money for me each month to help me out. And even my sister and her husband started giving me a certain amount of money per month so that my medication costs are paid for. I can not ask anything more from anyone. I am doing only what I can do. The maximum. Also trying to find a cheaper apartment that will have to be with flatmates which I despise, but have to do,,, but have found nothing out there even though I am checking twice a day on various websites etc.

This post is going to go all very downhill I am afraid even though the stuff about selling my art really ‘had me going’. Now, for 2 weeks, nothing. I am constantly doing a dozen things in all different areas of my life to try and improve things. Started seeing a dietician and exercising a few times a week etc, to both lose weight and as they say to help with the depression, but it doesn’t help with the depression at all. So far. I am one year in this ‘rehabilitation’ process and a year assessment has been done and I was doing better several months ago and even a year ago than I am doing now. This is where this post gets real bad.

Amongst still never having canceled any meetings I have with my carers, taking all medications as told to, being honest and open, trying to get help from others and trying to help myself… I am just feeling worse. The last couple of months have been extremely rough and ‘different’. I’ve been in ‘this’ for 5 years now and it has clicked that I can no longer call this a ‘breakdown’ or ‘mental breakdown’. A 5 year ‘breakdown’? No, this is and has been actually my EVERY DAY life for 5 years with no relief. It’s not that I improved and then relapsed. Honestly. Every day. Every hour. Down to every minute. In all that I am trying to do and mostly even succeeding in doing, it is still not helping me even improve 1%. Honestly. Like I say, I’m still on a downward spiral and the last couple of weeks have been especially rough and continue to get rougher and rougher and more and more things not only do not go right, but are actually going wrong. With all the effort I am putting in… THERE ARE NO RESULTS. I can no longer be told and believe in persistence and patience. I can not live like this.

To show how bad a state I am in every hour of every day… I have been having worse issues with my heart and I know it’s all to do with stress and anxiety. I feel it. My DRs know it. Everyone knows it. I do deep breathing at least twice a day. It calms me for 30 minutes whilst I am doing it and then I get up and switch back to being utterly stressed out and anxious about everything. And my heart is taking a beating because of this. My Dr said that we need to count out possible physical issues and I have gone for test after test and it all comes back that my heart is functioning by itself, fine. The only irregularities that show up is a fast pulse several times a day with very deep scary palpitations like I have never experienced before. I’ve worn monitors for 24 hours, I’ve done it all, and it all comes down to basically my mental health causing problems with my physical health.

I was given a psychologist for a year when I began this ‘rehabilitation’ and I am due to finish with her in a couple of weeks. I can’t extend it. They give you a year free then my only option is to move to a private therapist and pay of course. I can’t pay a penny. There is nothing I can do. Even so, the therapy that I have been in for a year now has been highly unuseful. It has come up OVER AND OVER again that I do not need to meet with her once a week to just vent and then I’ll feel better. I need feedback. I need tools. I need advice and for her to point things out to me, challenge me, help me! But she just sits and nods. It’s been a waste of time. I walk in there feeling bad and leave feeling even worse. Not only am I finishing with her (even though, like I say, I can’t say it was really worth it at all), my social worker left recently after me being with her for a year too and now I have a new social worker that I don’t know and it’s very difficult. And just to add on top of all of this, my psychiatrist is leaving, who I have been seeing sometimes even weekly because of my situation being that bad and him taking so much time in speaking with me and trying to help me. He’s like no other psychiatrist I have ever met or had. And I have been with him for a year and 4 months and now he is leaving and I am getting a new psychiatrist in a months time. I asked the name of the psychiatrist as it could have been one I had in the past as they move them around between hospitals and mental health centres etc, and I don’t know this psychiatrist whatsoever. Never heard of her. So that is awful for me too. All of these changes. Things are bad enough as they stand, and now this has to happen all on top also. It’s crazy. I NEED DBT and I have now been on the waiting list for 2 YEARS and it seems that I am no closer in getting a place. So no crappy therapy, no ‘OK’ therapy, no DBT, nothing.

What else? Well, I am highly upset and traumatised from many things not only from before I ‘broke down’, but since too. The PTSD about the rape that happened in December 2013 just gets worse. At least a few times a week I am having nightmares about all different things to do with rape and sexual assault. I am highly paranoid all the time because of it. I have rage in me that wants to go and literally kill him. I go in between trying to get the police file of complaint re-opened and then I decide I am simply not strong enough to get it re-opened and as difficult as it is, I have to protect myself mentally, and by going back in to all of this again, could and will most literally break me. But on the other hand, everyone says that something was wrong with the police investigation. Something is missing from the evidence. The photos I gave the police of my entire apartment covered in blood, my entire legs covered in blood, my white socks the colour of dark pink. The day after it happened being sent to a rape crisis centre and stripped and prodded and photographed and being told by the overlooking nurse ‘he cut you up bad honey’. I won’t go on. All I know, and everyone knows, is that something has gone very wrong with this and the decision to close the file and not take him to court over what he did to me. I can’t even get in to all of this, but it’s just all so very wrong.

The woman I was with in hospital for 2 years, the only patient I ever opened up to and we were extremely close and she told me things she had also never spoken about… Well, she HAD BPD. Had not managed to get DBT. Nothing helped her. She also tried many types of rehabilitation. But like myself, hospitalisation after hospitalisation. Medications after medications. Hope after hope… Then coming to a dead end. A few suicide attempts. The same as me. And she killed herself in August of 2013. Wow, 2013 was an awful year. I’d gone back to England and attempted suicide three times when I was there for 6 months. Was hospitalised there. Was told that I should not be in hospital for even one day because I have BPD and I will therefore kill myself ‘wherever I am’. To be ‘told’ about the starving people in Africa and trying to tell me how good I’ve got it and that I should not be depressed and I am ‘wrong’. I am sorry, but with all due respect, you can’t really compare the two things. Fine, to a certain degree I can make sure to not take things for granted that I have in my life, but to tell me that I shouldn’t be suicidal because people in Africa don’t even have food to eat, is crazy. And that was the ‘advice’ I got from a fully trained psychiatric nurse there.

And so the post gets worse and worse. I said I was going to get back to the start again of what I began writing about at the beginning of this post. So, I’ll try to concentrate and do so now…

Whether I have a heart attack due to the immense pressure my heart is in because of my mental health (and I am still taking a beta blocker for way over a year now and it still doesn’t seem to help) or if I do end up ending my own life in which I know how I would do it and there would be no way of survival… So I am not ‘messing around’ here. I am being serious. Something is going to kill me. If it’s not done with my own hands, then it will be something that will happen to me that is out of my control and I am basically getting closer and closer all the time to being dead. That is it.

What was the point in writing all of that post just to say at the beginning and end of the post that I AM going to die, and we are no longer talking about the new possibilities I have in somehow beating this little by little, because I have tried all available doors and nothing has helped. So, like I say, I’m just in a worse situation all of the time. Slowly slowly, more and more suicidal thoughts whilst being told how strong I am… That unfortunately doesn’t help me any more either.

I want to die.

I am suicidal.

You don’t know how close I was a few weeks back in actually asking my family if they would ‘let me’ kill myself and if they would understand why I would decide to do so… My dad and his wife were visiting for a week and we saw them and that, within itself, triggered me a lot too. I won’t go in to all of that.

I am suicidal. I want to die. Do I want to die? No. Do I want to live? No. So what am I going to do? More and more and more and more I am on the end of just simply ending my own life. I can only go according to what has happened in the last several years, in my lifetime, turning 30 in March of this year. Losing half of my 20’s to this hell. To entering my 30’s in this hell. To nothing changing. Working in a ‘protected work environment’ getting paid pennies and not even managing to sit and work for 4 hours a time, 3 days a week. Let alone getting back to ‘regular work’. I see women down the street and I think it is the woman I was with in hospital that ended her life, my closest friend ever. And I think that it’s all a nightmare and just can’t be true. I hear a woman speaking and it sounds like her and I say ‘it’s really her! I was told she ended her life but I was lied to!’. To the realisation of EVERYTHING… I would be a proud 30 year old virgin if I wasn’t raped in 2013. Keeping that for marriage. Trying my best in life to do things according to how I want to, and EVERYTHING around me FALLING APART.

I’m sorry everyone. This is not a post which is how I am feeling in JUST this particular hour of this particular day… This is every day like this. And it only worsens. Too much stress from all areas of my life. Trying to take control of things and push myself in so many ways to try and improve things. And nothing improves. And I’m not saying that things are not improving after a month or something… I’m saying years. Every single day is a living hell. I am becoming very desensitised to the thought of ending my life. It doesn’t chop and change. It is now constant and very strong. And even being suicidal, you know what? That psychiatrist in England that told me I will kill myself inside or outside of hospital… She is sadly correct and therefore there is nothing to be done. No intervention. Nothing. It’s JUST a matter of how much longer I continue to breathe.

I love you all. I hate the suffering of others as much as I hate the suffering of mine. I can simply not carry on in taking all of the pain and struggle. That’s an understatement.










I am so sorry, I really am. You can obviously see why I haven’t been posting and trust me, to press the ‘publish’ button is also an awful guilty feeling I have. To write like this for others to read. It’s not fair. But I just have to try and explain things.

What is meant to be, is meant to be. And it seems like what I have spoken about comes down to that… There’s nothing else to it.