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.