... 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.

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.

...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"

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.

...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.

...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.

I am unreliable

Am feeling shit. I would say "but half an hour ago I was feeling fab", but now I know that I shouldn't make such statements with any confidence. I am unreliable.
As an aside I just found out I've managed to miss a (formerly very close) friend's birthday by 5 days. I am out of touch with people, it must seem that I don't care to friends I had, I dododo care, don't show it, so might as well not care. I never wanted this.


I am writing this unreliable post thing after seeing my therapist today. I hadn't seen her for a few weeks and spent alot of the time playing catch up. Answering the question "how have the last 5 weeks been?" became an ordeal. I couldn't do it. Well, I later realised, I couldn't do it reliably. On the surface (my front works too well) I think it seemed ok. On reflection, in the last five weeks I have at times kept very busy, but also I have hidden in bed, I have returned to self harm, I have felt hopeful, I have dissociated but also managed to stay in some present time, I have felt dead and wanted to be so. I have had significant appointments, started new treatments, had important conversations and had decisions to make.  
In trying to relay what the last few weeks have held for me, what came out? My moods change so quickly, I can't keep up, but to not be able to review a period of time with an overview that actually gives a flavour of this, I am appalled by myself. Nothing relevant, a few snippets that I dismissed at the end of rambling sentences were the important bits, glossed over with nonsense. I can't think in real time. I can dwell and over dwell after the fact. When trying to hold a conversation I can't seem to access or review or allow myself time to think. How on earth am I going to get out of my mess with this kind of self sabotage? I left the session wondering who had been there doing the talking. I know that I edit myself constantly but this is ridiculous. Feel I have misrepresented myself, or more importantly, the truth of how life is for me. Wah Wah Wah. I don't think I can blame BPD for this can I? This is me.