I’ve been low. Real low. Getting fed up of being messed about by people. Guys especially. I’m fed up of people just seeing me as a toy. A sex doll even. Been feeling trapped. Stuck in the house, but not really having anywhere to go, then not really wanting to change out of my pjs anyway. Endless cycles. I’ve been contemplating why I bother with life. Why don’t I just give up? Well I sat at my desk the other night, with a blade in front of me, for about 2 hours. I was talking to a few people, keeping distracted, but all I wanted to do was slit my arm open and bleed out. Yes I wanted to kill myself. I didn’t want to die, I wanted the confusion, the unbearable loneliness, the insane emotional turmoil, to just go away. I wanted to be free of it all.
I’ve said this a million times. I feel like I’m going to be alone forever, so having being messed about recently, it made me feel worse. I want so much to just confront it/him/them. I can’t though. To much of a coward. That’s why I’m still here, because I’m a coward. I cut my wrist. One quite deep. I felt it hit the nerve, and freaked out a bit. That instant shock of pain, snapped me somehow. I cut a few more times, not as deep. Then felt better. For about 2 minutes. Usually the feeling would last longer. Not this time.
I haven’t actually cut since HE left. Back in the beginning of December so I feel so guilty about it, but hell it’s done now. I don’t care what anyone thinks about it. It’s my body, I will treat it the way I want. Anyway, the point is, I got some good news today, but it got ruined already.
I got a flat!
I’m moving back to my beloved Bangor. Not got any dates sorted or anything yet, but my god I was ecstatic when I heard! I googled the address. Found the location and what the place looks like. I went on Ikea, to get an idea of what furniture I need. I was obsessed with it. I was so fucking happy. I still am, in a way. I’m scared yeah, but it all got ruined. The stupidest little comments from people can really set me off. Now I’m feeling sad again. It’s stupid. My dad swore at me when I snapped at him (I did this because he scared me, he grabbed the back of my chair, and that absolutely terrifies me). So I got upset over it. Then while talking about the new flat, my brother told me not to mess it up, I asked what he meant, and he said “by doing something stupid”. I instantly went on the defensive “LIKE WHAT?!”. Way to go to ruin my good news. May seem insignificant to you, and that I should just get over it and be happy with my good news, but I’m afraid that is NOT how BPD works. Was it my fault I got upset at these things? No it fucking wasn’t. I’m so fed up of my own family members being to far up their own asses to even consider learning about my bpd, and how things they say or do could affect me.
Now I’m back to feeling low, and wanting to shout at a couple of people for the way they treat/treated me. I’d love to be able to just sit in my happy bubble for a bit longer, but it seems that I can’t.
I’m seeing a therapist next week. Here’s hoping I can get something sorted, because I’m fed up of my life being ruined by my own personality.