slipping

Slipping down into... what?
My energy is gone. I cannot sleep but I cannot properly be awake.
I have given myself so many excuses that I don't need to make the 3 minute walk to the shop. It can wait, I can wait, life can wait.
I have a list, things that I need to do, things that I haven't done, this list preys on my mind. As if doom is certain if I don't get the minutiae of life done. Does any of it matter? It has to in a way, what else does?
I am grateful for a break in therapy but, I am lost in it too.

What is going on?

I don't understand what's going on, either with the riots or with myself.
What are we as humans doing to allow / make this happen? Disspiriting and depressing. Heart is hurting pathetically for those that have been made homeless, have died or been injured, lost livelihoods and got caught up in something that they didn't want to be involved in. Humanity can be good, but just now, this, this is frightening.

Overwhelmed, bombarded, hopeless, shattered, hurt, worried, powerless. 
It is often a whimsical thought - that I want to escape the world, or stop it and to get off...

sad

hey you,yes, you (me), you (me) are very sad indeed.
stop wallowing in horrible wasteful feelings and get on
life is shit but everyone knows that, isolation is normal if you can't relate to people, it is ok to be this lonely if you can't hack the social world, it is perfectly ok to struggle, everyone does it, get on,
deal with it
Ok?

what to say?...

Want to write, just not sure what to say. Had and having a really crappy time. This is the first weekend in a while that I am trying to survive through alone, having had crisis team support to get through the past few. (They did help this time). 
The crunch seems to be, I have no idea why I am alive. The futility of it all feels all consuming and overwhelming, clouding all attempts to distract, be busy, just do stuff. I have no relationship to work for, no family of my own to be better for, to be there (here?) for. I have lost links with close family and most friends. There is noone who needs me. It seems I am working towards working again, something that terrifies me. Workers tell me of the value of work, of how much I have to offer (ha!) how good it is for everyone. I have always thought that I want, need to get back to work and that has been motivating in the past. I used to live to work, it defined my very being. 

Now? Now I dread it, dread failing again, letting people down again, dread the paranoia contact with people evokes, dread the deadening exhaustion of working without sleep, dread working without a life to make it seem worth it. For years I have been driven by the guilt that being on benefits brings. Is this any reason to keep going? How to see beyond this pointlessness?
This is why I haven't written, why I don't know what to write. I want to reach out but then this comes out. 

... bad day

After going to bed last night feeling fairly ok, and sleeping a good few hours (hooray) I do not understand why I have felt so shit today. Like a pile of rubble has been dumped on me and my fragile head. I have done so little I can't even write a post about what I have done it is too embarrassing how little I have done. I have cleaned - a little bit, I have walked to the shop. Trying not to binge, trying not to self harm. Go me.
On returning from the shop a man rushed up to me, talking far too much. He insisted that he needed to apologise to me. I didn't recognise him but rarely recognise people, especially when they suddenly appear in front of me. He was apparently the man who has whizzed past me a few times in a car and shouted something out of the window in my direction. I have presumed each time that it was abuse he was shouting and tried to ignore him. He was, in fact, telling me he would give me a lift. He wanted to apologise as he said he realised that I hadn't recognised him. (I still don't!) But he lives near and was obviously trying to be neighbourly. Cynical me. I thanked him for explaining and came back to hide again.

I am now riddled with paranoia - at least I hope it's that and not reality. Why would he want to offer me a lift? He doesn't know me. Scared of my past coming to get me. Has this just caught me on a bad day? Hope can shake this feeling off tomorrow. Am staying in hiding until it makes more sense. I know this post doesn't.

Don't know how I feel so...

...this is what I've done today instead:
* Been to GP's to get weighed, am being monitored as need to reduce my huge size by, erm, about half. So desolate and stuck. Can't seem to cut my reliance on food to help me/stop me feeling.

* Had NHS dentist appointment. Lasted maybe 2 minutes maximum. Don't feel very confident that my teeth are as fine as the dentist seemed to guess after a vague glance inside my mouth.

* Came home for CPN appointment. Wasn't in the mood, felt irritable with the world, my neighbours and the cat. But, it turned out to be really useful - (this seems to happen sometimes, the least welcome appointments can often be fruitful). We talked about what I do to look after myself. I am to look into having some FUN! and to learn how to ENJOY! myself.

Have a lonely weekend ahead, but maybe today's chat will motivate me to change this in future.
I want to continue this blog, but, as my feelings seem hard to detect amongst the mire currently, thought I could talk about the doing rather than how it feels for a bit. Anyway. Will see.

ugh

Riveting here ain't it?! Still battling with myself as to whether it's safe to post here about how I feel, so not around much, but still following others so keeping this blog (barely) alive.
Currently the jury is out as to whether I can safely write but am still feeling lots and nowhere to go with it.
Struggling with urges to cut, as if running away from my head but keep returning to the same circular train of thoughts that will not leave me alone. Will cutting help? No. Will it reinforce my self hatred? Yes. Will it give more weight to the BPd diagnosis? Probably/yes. Wah.
But I am still alive and able to think about these things so it's not all bad.

petrified

I am petrified, unable to write due to fear of being "seen", recognised, of my anonymity disappearing. But maybe I will try again after a break? This is the third blog I have tried to write, each time retreating with the same fear, I don't want to fail again as I do think it is a way to connect with others while it remains so hard in "real" life.

...that I have no idea

what to write here. Things are not going well. At. All. But too suspicious to write down what is going on. Wish I could. Wish I could ask for help and feel ok with doing that. A bank holiday weekend too, lots of time on my fat hands.

How different the outside can be from the inside

Thank you for the comments on the last post. This carries on from there in a way. The stretch between how I can come across, appear, perform to others, and how I really feel inside, where noone can see, is becoming more painful and harder to manage. This is a bad thing.

I don't want to drag myself around, telling the world how things feel inside. I do want to change, get better, be better and being in the world and interacting with people. I get up, mostly, I smile when I need to, I try. But when I seek support, when I go to a place where others may be able to relate even a little bit to others' struggles, I don't expect to come away feeling worse.

I worked, for a reason now unfathomable, in mental health for a while. I was struggling undiagnosed at that time, had times off, crisis intervention etc. Some people who I worked with knew, some didn't. I felt lost and useless, awkward in my role and in myself. I left, unable to cope. During that time and afterwards I avoided mh centres etc. Three years on I am trying to find ways to manage the times away from TC, therapy, which are a real struggle. To then go to somewhere seeking solace and to be told that I look fine and questioned as to why I can get support and someone else can't. Felt destroyed. So, am back to wondering, is it worth venturing outwards. Hello lonely world, can I make friends with you?

...lots of things

Feelings feel like flashes, no idea what they are called or how to describe, am challenged to name them, to talk about them. How to do them. Am I emotionally illiterate. Feelings dominate my life and I am in their grip.
I am in a bad place, reacting to feelings, things that I have said that I can't process. Or, rather, I am trying, through "unhealthy means"

Feelings, or words that I should be able to connect to at the moment might be:
angry, resentful, frustrated, sad, desperate, lonely, bereft, isolated, misunderstood, lost, frightened.

The list becomes meaningless, I don't understand how much pain one can experience and yet not be able to voice this or for this to be evident to others.
"I AM FINE"

Doorstep interaction with Tory councillor

(doorbell)
Me: hello
Him: hi (! - how modern), I'm your (newish, youngish shinyish Tory) local councillor, just calling to see if there are any problems you have that I can help with?
Me: Well, I have a few problems, not sure you can help with them though...
Him: Try me!
Me: Why, do you help people with their mental health problems now?
Him: Erm... well, no, I meant do you have any issues in the area that I can perhaps help you with?
Me: Well, I do get frightened of my neighbours.
Him: Why's that then?
Me: I don't think you can help with that can you?
Him: Well, if there isn't anything else, just get in touch if you think of anything else, here's a leaflet. I just live up the road.
Me: Oh, just up the road (named road)?
Him: Er, no, further up.
Me: Oh, on (named the road a bit further away but still on the dodgy estate that I live on)
Him: Er, no, a bit further than that.
Me: so not really local then...
Him: See you then, get in touch anytime, can I just ask, is there any chance that you will be voting for us on May 5th?
Me: I don't think there is any chance that I will be voting for you or your party.
Him: (backing away down the path) No chance? Ok bye then.

Please don't come to my door. I don't make sense. Equally, you don't make sense. That doesn't mean we understand each other. I don't want to talk to you about local issues that only become very important to you around election times. I find the door bell going very triggery.

Who on earth am I?

Struggling again with identity. When alone it doesn't matter. Or does it matter more because I am alone, does my confusion about this add to keeping me alone? When around people, who on earth am I? Most people have different sides to themselves that come to the fore in different situations I think. I believe that I have good insight but I don't know how I come across, so maybe I don't have insight - something I have been clinging to with hope. Maybe because how I feel is so at odds with how I seem to be able to perform.
So, as I have no idea what to write here, thought I'd start a list of roles and things that I feel identify me, see if that helps. Self absorbed, me??!

I am:
female
british
gay
binge eater
borderline
obese
mental health service user
graduate
daughter
sister
aunty
friend (bit unsure of this just now but trying)
gym member
benefit scum
walker
community member
patient
cat owner
tenant
radio 4 listener

Wonder what made these come out in this order... they aren't all in order of importance. Or my order of importance, but what do I know, no idea who I am or what I think.

... mixed up

Good things today:
Beautiful bird song from black birds singing so loudly it drowned out the traffic. 
Fish and Chips.
I got to the gym, and survived, hurray.
Planting seeds.

Tricky things today:
Saw a mh worker when really didn't want to.
Busy places - felt skinless and useless, why is it so hard to enjoy things? 
My eating - out of control. 

No idea how to use this blog.

Shit

And?
Nothing. Am lost, whirling in my own head while the world outside seems to be dashing in the opposite direction. I want to puncture myself, to feel, to numb, to feel, to not. Shit.

I think I'm back, isn't that thrilling?

Maybe I will blog again, third time lucky?
But, due to ongoing paranoia am thinking of maybe just doing one line posts, or mundane mumblings of small life stuff. Will see. Have just missed feeling part of the blogging community, even tho still following the blogs I regularly read, it seems/feels wrong to not at least try and blog myself.
Brief update, have started TC. It is very very very very very hard. My head is hurting and I am hurting myself to try and relieve this pain.
Small life stuff has helped today though, why are jobs like emptying bins, cleaning the bathroom, washing my cat's food bowls, doing washing, sooo satisfying? Blue sky and sunshine outside, but can't face leaving my flat as neighbours are outside. How pathetic. How nice it is to moan here again. Maybe I say too much for one liners....

...lost for words

What on earth to say when my friend's four year old looks at my arm and says "Ouch"?
I hadn't seen my friend for months. After said four year old asked her where I had gone, if they would ever see me again, I decided it was time to make the effort and visit. Had a lovely time, played, was given medals for sitting on the bed and presented with drawings with hearts and flowers on. We had cake and candles just because we could.
At bedtime, I was honoured to be asked to read the story. It was lovely. Lovely remembering that I used to feel comfortable around children, that I used to have a job working with them, lovely to remember why that was, that I enjoy their company. Lovely until almost the end of the story, when little four began studying and stroking my wrist. "What's that?" "Does it hurt?" "How that happened?" I hid my arm, she wanted to check it, looking into my eyes. "It's ok isn't it?"
I feel despicable. I reassured and brushed off her gorgeous innocent concern. It's ok, but really, no, it's not ok. I hope that you never have to see that again, that you never feel the need to do that to yourself. I am so sorry. Because to me it seems so much better and healed and clean I had forgotten to hide. I will never forget again. So so sorry. 

... tentatively hopeful?

Will this last? A few things have changed. Feel in flux, but I so hope it's heading in a positive direction.
Since last summer I have struggled to sleep more than a couple of hours a night, if that, and that with medication. Somehow, the last two nights, I have slept for a few more hours. Amazing. Thank you sleep fairy for giving my head a break from myself, from the night time of horrors. I know they are still there but I escaped for a while and am so grateful.
The flat infestation is lessening. I still am not sure I believe the theory that this was hallucination but whatever, be gone, sod off, am glad to see the back of you.
I am feeling better about the whole idea of entering the TC. Wobbly but better. Don't overthink, it will be ok, it will be ok, it will be ok.
My see saw bingeing/self harm cycle has slowed. I seem to be (a bit too) disciplined in eating and determined to lose weight. Doubt this will last, but it is a nice change.
Not that they let me know, but ESA is apparently safe for a few more months.
I don't want to pre empt a fall back into hell, but this last 48 hours has let me breathe and see again.

...like this

...crap

 and: aggressive, useless, deceitful, a waste of space, exhausted, disconnected

Not a great day. And I can't even write about it or talk to anyone about it - paranoid. Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

...Frozen,

or caught in the headlights, petrified. A place has come up suddenly at the TC for me. My head is in a messy awful place. Have been on edge of crisis for few weeks now if that's even possible. I don't feel ready. Very scared. But does this mean I am in fact ready? To jump in, to try and float in a sea of everyone else's struggles which I always seem to swallow and push down my own. Also the endings thing, I am leaving support that I've had for several years to go to the TC, but no time to prepare, for "closure" (ugh), to enable my head to move on. I have stopped talking, it's too hard. And it is put down to me having cold feet. I already had a flood of stuff to get through with mh support, now I feel silenced by fear and unable to sort out the stuff. Do I take it with me? Will I be able to deal with that in a group when I can't even face talking 1:1? Bingeing again - as if to make visual the fact that I am filling up with unprocessed awfuls.  

...like giving up

Gwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Falling into a well of infinite horror. Embarrassing myself at every turn. Infested flat isn't helping and I can't sort it out. So so tired but so little ability to sleep.
: (

...like cleaning

I am trying to claim back my head, and my flat. Decided this morning that to do that I need to control my environment. I have cleaned like crazy today. My flat, like my head, feels infected. I need to rid it of whatever I have unleashed so that I can stay here. I like my flat. I don't like where it is, but once inside, it feels (or, felt) like home and if I am to live anywhere, then I would like to live here. I am generally a bit of a clean freak and find cleaning therapeutic once I start. But once I start, I over do it. Now it smells of cleaning products (mostly artificial citrus), which isn't good, but means that I have hopefully reduced the infection.
My head, I don't know how to cleanse that. I have been washing - alot. But it feels dirty and broken and that I need to stay in isolation to allow whatever it is to die or leave or fester. Trying to do normal stuff, but I don't feel normal, whatever that is, not even my normal. 
I can't imagine now feeling "ok" for a whole day, or going out socially, or having a conversation that isn't an appointment. How did I get here? My head misbehaving? Life "events"? My stupidity? Stress? BPD isn't my name, but it feels like I am embodying it just now. Sick sick sick of it all.
Bath time.

...as if I'm on the edge of crisis

I don't want to go there again. I am so so tired due to lack of sleep. The meds don't work and am looking at ways to "treat" myself which is always alluring and never a good idea. It's ok if it's just me that feels am whirling into crisis. It's definitely not ok if others think that too. Saying "No, I'm fine, really" doesn't appease worried professionals who are just doing their job but are intensely annoying when I just want to be on my own. People who I usually trust to some extent, become so unwelcome and almost threatening. I don't trust them, I don't trust me. This is awful, but I wish it could be seen, this mess in my head. So I could point and say "ouch, please help". I can't, it's all hidden away behind polite smiles and desperate attempts to remain appropriate.

...that maybe lists don't work afterall

I wasn't going to get up today. I didn't get up until after lunchtime. I had a list of things I was going to do, cleaning / sorting / bits of art / therapy homework etc. Nothing major, not solving any world dilemmas or crises, just things to get me through my day, and a Sunday - the most difficult of the week. 
Everyday I write a list of what I need to do. Usually I start a list at the beginning of the week and put in what is due to happen, eg, appointments, gym visits etc. Then I fill it in until it is full up for the week and add stuff as time goes on. Without a list I feel anchorless and alot more anxious. I need to feel I have achieved something, which I find very hard to do as am not at work and work was what I used to try and feel a sense of achievement. I need to have time filled up, no time for my head to take off in unwelcome and often unsafe directions. Even if I just tick off "clean kitchen floor" (and actually do it), it is something that I have done and that is a good thing.

Today, I haven't followed my list, have gone off list. My one local friend invited me to go for a walk with her and her partner. I went. I didn't stay in bed as had seemed inevitable after 1 hour's sleep and it being Sunday and all. It was cloudy and chilly, but it was lovely to be out. To get muddy and cold and a bit damp. To come home and have tea and cake. To have friends in my flat who talked to me, who listened to me and who are lovely to me. The only people who usually come to my flat are mh workers and occasionally my parents. Today I had friends here. For those few hours, I was free of my lists. I didn't worry about them. Although I now feel anxious that I haven't done what I promised (this usually provokes self harm as punishment), I am wondering if the lists are actually helping or hindering me. Can I free wheel through the endless days? Can I do what I feel like when I feel like it? Or will I end up not getting up some days and stupidly active on others trying to catch up. Would it be better or worse? I don't know. But it's made me think.

...Disabled by DLA consultation

Twice now I have looked at the DLA consultation which ends on 14 February. The first time I read most of the document (took ages, hard to take it all in) and planned to think about it and go back and respond. The second time, I read a bit more and wanted to add my response. But I haven't. I feel unable to respond. I feel frightened by authority at the best of times. Paranoia about cctv, police, post from anywhere "official" etc doesn't help when I am asked to register my details on a consultation form where what I want to say may be seen as criticism rather than comment, questions I want to ask rather than answers to questions I am asked. I am scared of the backlash. What if those who do respond to the consultation are then denied benefits because of the comments made? 
I wanted to urge those making the changes to include the need for mental health specialists to be involved in the application form, assessment, and review process. I wanted to remind/tell them that my mental health, and that of many others, can fluctuate within the day, hour by hour. Sometimes I can do things, other times I can't. I don't want those who are invisibly disabled to society at large to be left unsupported as our needs cannot be easily seen or described. 
I am ashamed of my fear but my fear won't let me respond.

...that sometimes it's ok to be still

After chasing after my head, feeling unsafe if I sat down or worrying about what I hadn't done or what I should or shouldn't be doing, I NEEDed time to stop today. That is what I've done this afternoon. It has helped so much. The world hasn't collapsed because the sofa is warm from my sitting on it in the afternoon sun, my head is just about on my shoulders. This has been a couple of hours of "just" being, a huge challenge at times like now, but very welcome. I have been thinking about a new art project. Am looking at mixed media, something I haven't tried properly before and am relating it to some of the stuff in therapy. 
I feel so busy which makes me feel guilty for mentioning and and and will sound ridiculous to those who are at work. Stuff to do: many appointments, keeping up with my own demands upon myself, gym, therapy homework, clean freaking. I have been on full time distraction for weeks. I have hardly slept over an hour a night for several weeks and am feeling it badly. But I need to remember that there is a reason for needing to distract myself and that being so tired is natural when so sleep deprived and physically pushing myself in the hope of finding the missing sleep.
Stopping is good sometimes. Please slow down my busy head. 

One month before heartbreak post

http://onemonthbeforeheartbreak.blogspot.com/

I have no idea if I have posted the link properly above, (dinosaur me), but just want to credit the fact that I heard about the One Month Before Heartbreak idea through reading Karita's great post on If Narky, Feed Profusely and an idea from Phil Groom? If anyone can point me in the direction of crediting/linking properly that would be so kind, if anyone is in fact reading. Thankyou.

I have a postcard on my fridge door. I have had it for years and it came as a birthday card a long time ago. Somehow while I was making tea in the early hours, it got me thinking about this post, and this DLA disaster about to happen, the big society idea etc. I like the sound of the big society in some ways, the idea of communities coming together, working together, increasing tolerance and understanding. But, providing services that otherwise will be lost due to cuts, relying on volunteers to excess, no. I don't understand how the party who dreamt this Big Society up can genuinely look people in the eye and say that they were also the party whose leader in the past said "there is no such thing as society".

The postcard: A long dining table with benches on 3 sides, each with  many small white rabbits sitting on them. A larger (adult?) rabbit is standing at the 4th side of the table, holding a very large carrot in one paw, and is about to cut up the carrot with a knife, presumably to feed the many other smaller rabbits.
This may sound strange, please forgive me. But I got to thinking, always dangerous. The bigger / adult rabbit who is standing up -or the one that seems to be in charge (she looks kind and friendly so not sure I can make the leap to a comparison with the ConDems but anyway...) seems to be providing for the other, smaller rabbits, who are waiting to be fed, they don't have any food of their own. They are looking expectantly, but none of them is grabbing for the food or fighting for it.
I am not too well at the moment but I am not a small white rabbit, that I do know. And I can go and get food. I can cut it up. In that respect I am absolutely fine. However, I am not able to work at the moment, supported by several mh professionals. I live on ESA and DLA. This isn't what I want or what I planned to happen for me. I have lost four jobs (so far) due to my mental ill health. I want to work and get to a place where I can do that sustainably without lurching between crises. I want to be independent. I want to be able to provide carrots for those who cannot provide them for themselves and one day I hope this is achievable. But I do need time to be able to get there, and without DLA I doubt that I could keep my tiny HA flat or get to appointments, activities that aim to support me.
What if one of those rabbits (or one in four) is accidentally missed out, or missed out on purpose and doesn't get his/her slice of carrot to sustain him/her until the next meal? What if s/he lacks confidence to ask for help, what if s/he is too ashamed to ask because others might say s/he doesn't deserve the carrot? What if  what if what if. I am trying to make a point, and failing, but on I go...
DLA is the carrot. It is necessary to provide for those who can't provide for themselves, whether this is long or short term. I fear that for those with mental health issues, issues that we can't see and which many do not want to see or acknowledge, DLA will become "unnecessary" as of course many of us are mobile or not deemed to be in greatest need.
I have gone on long enough. The idea made sense, I doubt the post does, but, there, I tried.

Doing not Feeling

Too hard to talk about feelings, so this is what I did today:
Sent 3 texts to CPN
Got 2 texts and call from CPN
Got up at midday
Cleared dead leaves and branches from patch of garden near flat
Cried in a shop, apologised, said thank you
Brushed my beautiful cat and fed beautiful cat on demand
Made two small arty things, not sure what they are yet, but at least they are started
Made some yummy indian food all by myself without burning it
Waved to my neighbour who I haven't spoken to since September

Done stuff see, I can do stuff, just can't bear to feel stuff. Plan: be busy.

Philip Larkin was right

It is getting to the point where I am almost laughing at how bad things are. But, not really. How long to keep doing my list of distractions on the crisis plan. fjweotfhap;ew airghqireo gtaierhgoierjgo3OORJFTosajrogjrgfopeopteropjesojdgoiaejrgaejr'gojrotg'oaejrgpojrtorjgaoperdjgore;gojreogj'aoprjgopaer'raeojgeaordgjadjhgorje'g5opmeeva0o03W90HOJ54ETOSHT;ILOPEAUJRGFOLAIW'P;JHG4wojrg[opljgvoi u4er4EJRG[5EOJVO54;ROPGJ

...shit

I don't know what to write, there is so much in my head and am in turmoil but feel too cautious to say what's going on. Anonymity is precious. How to protect? How to vent safely?
Today I have let myself down. Things got too much and I needed a pressure release. I cut for the first time in a while. It felt fantastic and despicable. And now another thing to hide from people. So, yeah, shit today.

Gah

Today I feel...
Lonely, isolated, alone.
Ill, low energy, flagging.
That I want to do stuff but don't have the energy.
That I need to do the stuff I want to do because I need to distract my head from its thoughts, my heart from its feelings.
Old, realising I will be 40 this year. Did I mention alone, yes, I feel very alone.
What have I achieved in my nearly 40 years? Some pointless bits of paper that say I am qualified to do stuff that I can't now do as confidence gone, too terrified of people, responsibility, failure. I can live on my own, I can wash and dress and smile. I can be just fine thank you. I never feel it though. Is that good? I have made a few friends but lost most of them. I am frightened of myself.

This isn't supposed to be the story. All the shoulds revolve constantly (work, being sociable, going out, being useful, productive...) I want to work, I want to work without getting ill. The next job I have I want to keep. How to get there?
Maybe this'll be the year. I want to change, I need to change.
I have a little bit of change that needs to last me over a week.
HNY