Today was my first day back at halls, which as anticipated sucked bigstyle. I was dreading coming back, after seeing a friend/boyfriend at christmas just because this place seems to have this massive depressive impact on me. Possibly something to do with the fact that i spend a lot if time in the room where i tried and nearlt succeded in killing myself, but hey, what can you do. Also a lot to do with the fact that this room is pretty much identical to my room at Liverpool Uni, and that is soo much of a bonus, not.
The thing is, having anticipated today was going to be a massive pile of shit, i had plans-to call people if i needed help, that sort of thing. and mostly it was ok, in between bouts of crying, cos i watched a lot of xmas telly on iplayer and unpacked and generally mooched. And i was ok until i went to eat and ealised that NOTHING had changed. I thought id done well he last week, being away, i tried so hard with food, the effort did my brain in and made me incapable of talking at times. but i just about crawled through. and i got back here, ate then threw up, again and again and again until i made my stomach bleed, kind of like i was making up for the last week or something. what os wrong with me? I know this isnt normal behaviour-oh sorry, excuse me, its BPD behaviour, my mistake.
Then i got a phonecall from the psyc who has been assessing me at the EDS to arrange next appointment, and she asked me how i was, and how the fuck am i supposed to tell her that actually, thanks very much for screwing me over with the BPD thing, cos now i cant ask for help without being told m attention seeking, so no, im not going to tell you that i feel like jumping out of the window. shame i live in a ground floor flat really. So we can all guess how i managed to deal with that little hiccup. Que some DIY 'bodge my cut back together' handywork. cos im not going to A&E to have the attention seeking lecture. So i thought fuck this, im tired, im done in, im going to have a petite little sleep for a bit, and hopefully feel better when i wake up. Which i did until one of my best friends accused me of lying to her. Which i haven't. Ever. which has made me more upset than i ever realised was possible. which is quite a lot, all things considered.
I'm so unhappy. I never wanted any of this. I cant i cant i cant. not any more.
Irregular Choice Festive Footwear 2022: Day 20
3 years ago
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I don't have a BPD diagnosis myself, but two of my closest friends have. I've seen first-hand the stigma that they have experienced from certain mental health professionals (especially the crisis team) and I can understand why you wouldn't want to go anywhere near A&E if a diagnosis like that has been stuck on you. But there are some professionals out there who take a much more enlightened and sympathetic approach to the whole concept of 'personality disorder', and my friends have been lucky enough to come across a few of these too. I hope you are equally fortunate.
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