Taking A Break

This blog is now over 3 years old and I must say I’m surprised I kept it up for so long. These past few years have been a crazy ride for me and if you’ve been reading my posts for some time now you’ll know that a lot of things have changed over the years, mainly me. I’ve learned to be alone and take care of myself while also making sense of my personality Disorder, things are far from perfect but I’m in a better place than I was 3 years ago, heck even 1 year ago.

My writing has changed and my blog has gone through quite a few makeovers, It’s been a while since I’ve done a post about my life and how I feel. I think this is the first one since the end of last year! I’ve really enjoyed making informative posts about what I learn but recently I feel like I’ve been treating this blog as more of a job than a hobby, I try to spend at least one day a week writing new posts and it’s time to be honest with you, I love the attention that my blog gets, since I started using twitter to share my posts and network they’ve got more likes and this blog has got more followers.

I started seeing numbers as validation and approval, when a post didn’t get many likes or people unfollowed me, I’d get disheartened and wonder why they don’t like me or what I write.I became very envious of people who seemed to do better than me on twitter and on here. The relationship I developed with social media became unhealthy and I’ve had to take a big step back from it all but not too big otherwise I’d lose people’s attention thus the scheduled blog work time. I put myself under pressure to keep improving my posts, make them longer with no mistakes sort of thing. The informative posts I wrote seemed to get more traction than my personal story so I kept going with them as its what other people wanted but I’m not sure its what I want. Recently I tried to force myself to write a post but my brain and my emotions weren’t co-operating, became anxious and a bit manic whenever I tried to write a post like I was trying to force enthusiasm and taking it too far.

At the time when I first started changing my blog style it was because I was inspired to do so but the inspiration just isn’t there now, I’m still very proud of my new posts don’t get me wrong but now the writing just feels forced, like I’ve started blogging more for the attention and validation rather than because I want to. Today i found myself sitting in the bathroom with pain in my chest from stress and the thought of my blog came up and how I’ve just been putting it as another part of my weekly to do list instead of utilizing it as a therapeutic hobby, the thought of writing this post calmed me down and this does feel like a weight lifting off my shoulders.

I still love this blog and I’m really proud of the work I’ve done but all good things must come to an end unfortunately, I’m honestly not sure what the future of this blog is going to be but right now I need to take a break, focus on getting well and then maybe come back to blogging but I’m not sure and I don’t want to worry myself about it now. I hope you understand where I’m coming from, I feel like I’m now starting a new chapter of my life and I’m not sure my blog is currently reflecting that. I hope to one day come back here better and brighter but if not, don’t worry about me I’m just doing different things with my life 🙂

Thank you for reading,

NI2M ❤

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Growing Up With BPD

Trigger warning: This post talks about self harm and suicidal behaviours

When I was diagnosed with BPD at age 18 a lot of things fell into place. When I showed my mum a leaflet about the diagnosis she was able to link a lot of my behavior to the disorder. Fair to say we both agreed with the diagnosis, in hindsight the signs were there all along but professionals are reluctant to diagnose children and teens with BPD as the mood swings and unsure identity could be put down to growing up. They tend to wait until you’re 18 or older to diagnose you but I think if someone had picked up on the signs at an early stage I might have got better but instead the symptoms got progressively worse.

For as long as I can remember intense emotions have affected my life. When I was in nursery and primary school I would get so distressed about going and being separated from my mum that I would cry, scream and put myself at risk to avoid going. I’d run away from home or undo my seat belt in the car in the hopes that we would crash and I would get hurt or die so I wouldn’t have to go to school.

I would cry out of nowhere even if, like a minute ago, I was laughing I could suddenly start crying or get angry at the drop of a hat. Attachments were an obvious issue for me as well, not just being overly attached to my mum but I would get attached to toys and games, getting incredibly upset if they broke. At the age of 10 I was in therapy for anger management problems. I only got six sessions with the therapists but when they “dropped” me I felt unwanted, unimportant and abandoned.

I used to go horse riding every week which I enjoyed but from one week to the next I could feel completely different about it. I remember looking forward to this special riding party with other kids but on the day of the party I was crying and screaming like I was being forced to go to school.

My friendships were very unstable in my primary school/early high school life. I would get angry easily for reasons that not even I knew sometimes but it meant a fight nearly every other day. We would always make up and be good friends until the next time I got upset with them. Being friends with me was like trying to handle a ticking time bomb that could go off at any minute or with even a slight wrong touch. There are a lot of diary entries from my first year of high school talking about this one girl and each entry would be either about how bad of a friend she was or how we made up after a fight… Again.

Suicidal ideation was around from a young age too. I wrote in my diary about how I hurt a friend and how I felt so guilty that if she didn’t forgive me I might as well end my life. This may all sound dramatic but this was how I was genuinely feeling at the time. I was considered a drama queen and a crybaby for years because of this emotional intensity.

I was bullied as I wore my heart on my sleeve and it was obvious there was something wrong with me as I was able to go from laughing to crying to lashing out in a matter of minutes. I was aware of how my emotional sensitivity was a problem but I didn’t know how to control it. In my teen years these erratic emotions morphed into severe depression and anxiety.

I was crying almost every night and having a panic attack nearly everyday, I’d also learned how to self harm and that became my way of releasing my emotional pain and self hatred. I eventually got counselling and group therapy for these things which helped a little but as the disorder could not yet be diagnosed, the issues were still there. I just became better at hiding/suppressing my emotions at school and with family, saving my “meltdowns” for when I was alone.

I changed my mind a lot too, picking my subjects to take at GCSE was a nightmare as I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do or what I wanted to be when I got older. My aspirations would change nearly every week and I went to the office multiple times to change my options, I eventually settled for Drama, Art and Child development as, for a short while, I wanted to be a social worker,that dream changed quickly though.

In college things seemed to be looking up, I was happier there but underneath the cheeriness was the fear that if I let my “true” self show everyone would hate me and I would be bullied again so I played up the happy/hyperactive persona as that is the side of me people seemed to prefer. However, this escalated into mania that would last a couple of hours but by the end of the day I was emotionally and physically drained from all the hyperactivity. If something went wrong during the day or I perceived someone as being upset with me, my mood would quickly change to depressed and distressed.

So you see, when I was a child, I had no pause button on my emotional reactions. Whenever I felt overwhelmed I didn’t know how to stop the tears or the rage, I didn’t know how to react to these intense emotions in a healthy way or communicate how I was feeling to others appropriately so very soon a wedge was driven between me and the other kids. It was when I started being bullied more severely in high school that I learned to not let my feelings show, bottling them up and suppressing them as much as I could but even then some of it would show, especially the rage.

The emotional intensity, mood swings, unstable relationships, attachment issues and lack of identity were there with me from a very early age. Things have improved since I got neurofeedback, DBT therapy and medication but there are definitely things I need to work on like resolving my trauma and coming to terms with the way my life is now because of said trauma. I understand why professionals are reluctant to diagnose people with the disorder before 18 but I think early intervention is key for BPD. I think there is a term called ’emerging personality disorder” that identifies symptoms of a personality disorder in young people without actually diagnosing them. I think this would have been useful for me as it would have got me treated sooner and improved my school life but alas that was not the case. I do think it would be a good idea to teach children about how to deal with difficult emotions and how to look after their mental health, not necessarily if they show signs of mental illness but in general.

Hope you liked this post, do feel free to let me know what you think or share your experience with a personality disorder in childhood. Thanks for reading.

NI2M ❤

19 Signs You Grew Up With Borderline Personality Disorder

18 Signs You Grew Up With ‘Quiet Borderline Personality Disorder’

https://thetab.com/uk/sheffield/2018/10/11/this-is-what-it-is-really-like-growing-up-with-borderline-personality-disorder-36588

Starting over is f*cking hard

I didn’t mention this before but I’ve started at another new college to study business I want to study it because it could open so many doors for me professionally and I do want to start my own business as well.

What I don’t want is to be bullied or judged or gossiped about which is what I feared would happen once I came here and it was this fear that landed me in trouble… With myself

You see there was some gossiping but no one was really picking on me and they didn’t seem to be judging me. In fact I think I was being more judgemental than they were.

All through the day my anxiety had been chipping away at me but during lunch I spent some time alone, practised meditation and I was alright until… Sports day

Now I like sports just not doing them with other people especially teenagers. In high school PE (sports class) was an opportunity for my bullies to physically attack me and make it look like an accident.

I’ve had balls thrown at my face, I’d been tripped and pushed, made fun of for the way I run and picked last for teams, exposing just how much of an outsider I was and I hated it.

Nothing like that happened but the fear of it stopped me from doing pretty much anything because no one else wanted to do it and I wanted to fit in for once and not draw any attention to myself.

Eventually it was over and I ended up in the counsellor’s office crying my eyes out and venting all my frustrations that had been piling up for the past couple of weeks. That was also part of the problem, I was so sad, anxious and frustrated but those feelings couldn’t find a way out until today…in college… On my first day.. FML.

I was hoping for a fresh start, that I could put my past behind me and move on, I forgot about Post Traumatic Stress (not the disorder) for me that means remnants of bad experiences are left in the back of my mind only rising when something I associate with that bad experience (i.e. Sports= Bullying) comes up.

I need to look for CBT and DBT therapy, its honestly so frustrating how the mental health team in my town just don’t get it and just dose me up with more medication which (excuse my language) pisses me off and stresses me out even more! they didn’t even want to let me have talking therapy alongside the medication, just the medication but what the hell am I supposed to do in situations like this when I don’t have the necessary tools to overcome the bad thoughts and anxiety?

I’m not anti-medication, it has helped a lot with the emotions but with the thoughts I’m in a constant cycle that I know I need help getting out of. I think I’m going to have to start being more assertive. They say “ask for help” but now it seems like I have to demand it!

In a way though I am thankful for what happened today because it finally meant I could release those pent up emotions and face one of my fears… Being vulnerable in front of people.

I’ll probably get more into that in another post but, for now, thanks for reading ❤️

 

DepressionDiaries: Can’t Sleep… as usual

It’s nearly 4 in the morning and I’m still awake. Maybe I shouldn’t have slept during the afternoon and gone out instead.

This morning my mum woke me up to call the recruitment people about when I would start. The Girl on the phone (who was clearly new) basically brushed me off saying they only had one day shift left when I wanted to work nights so we hung up.

My mum and I had like a five minute argument about it until I called them back and said I would take that last shift and start on Monday. I was really pleased finally I had gotten a job after being brushed off by the same people a week ago because of black Friday.

I texted my dad and my friend who already works at where I want to go only to realise looking at the postcode that the recruitment people texted me that I was assigned to the wrong area even though I mentioned to the girl on the phone what area I wanted to work in.

This wouldn’t be a problem if this area was easier to get to but it’s quite far from where I live and I’m expected to start at 7am on Monday. Then starting properly would mean I work 10 hours a day in the winter so I will have to find my way round an unfamiliar area in the dark and I have problems walking round my own neighbourhood in the dark.

So I have to give them another call in a few hours to try and fix this mix up if I can’t I may just take the job anyway. It’s better than nothing right?

NI2M ❤

DepressionDiaries: Feeling the Pressure

Him: Hey you free to meet up I need someone to meet feeling lonely right now and just wondering upset atm

Me: Where and when?

Him: Today if possible please. Feel like crying 😢

Me: Okay well I’m already meeting up with a friend. Is it all right if he comes to?

Him: No sorry just might jump off a building sorry

This is a conversation between me and the guy I went on a date with a few weeks ago. Bare in mind we’ve hardly spoken and we don’t really know eachother well.

I actually lied about already meeting up with a friend. I was on facetime with two of them when I was getting these messages and honestly I felt uncomfortable meeting up with him alone so I begged one of them to come with me but then you saw that last message. When he sent that I felt threatened like if I didn’t meet up with him… alone and at night he would hurt himself. I told my friends what he said and immediately alarm bells went off for them as well. So I ended up saying that I couldn’t meet him and my mum never wants me to see him again and I don’t mind that honestly.

He has since apologised for his behaviour but I still don’t trust him, I can feel the colour drain from my face as the dread rushes over me whenever I get a message from him. He wants to see me but I don’t want to see him and I don’t know how to tell him that…

NI2M ❤

DepressionDiaries: My Brother, Mental Illness and Me

Recently I was on holiday in France with my half brother, his mum and our dad. It was a good holiday and allowed me a break from everything in life but with a mental illness you can’t really have a break in your mind.

On the last day my moods were all over the place mainly because I was honestly dreading going back home. This lead to a breakdown which consisted of snapping at mydad then crying on the porch outside where we were staying. I felt so tempted to just run away, get lost and never have to return home but I had no money and who knows what sort of trouble I would get myself into.

Unfortunately for my 9 year old half brother he had witnessed it all and he was very worried about me. I told him to just leave me and that he wouldn’t understand. After a while a duck came to join me on the porch; I like animals, they’re less complicated than humans so I grabbed some bread and started feeding him/her, it seemed to calm me down.

Once my half brother (we’ll call him Dino because he likes dinosaurs) so once he saw that I had calmed down he came to sit with me on the porch, I gave him the rest of the bread to feed the duck with, he was clearly still worried so I thought I should explain as best as I could.

I said “I have an illness in my brain, it makes it difficult for me to relax and sometimes I get upset for small reasons. I have a lack of relaxing hormones such as serotonin and melatonin so I have to take medicine to help me keep calm”

He had seen me take my melatonin before and asked about it so I said it helps me sleep

“That tablet you saw me take is melatonin and it increases my melatonin levels to help me sleep better and if I don’t take them I can be very tired”

Dino asked me questions which I answered; I made it clear to him that it was not his fault that I was in a bad mood and that it wasn’t dangerous (at least not like our nan’s cancer was) as I’ve had it since I was 6 to which he said…

“Woah, so it’s like you were born with it!” he sounded amazed at that which I couldn’t help but laugh about. It wasn’t long before me and Dino were back to our usual sibling behaviour and he still treats me the same which is good.

I had wanted to explain mental illness to him before considering children as young as him are coming down with depression and anxiety these days so I want to make sure he has some sort of understanding of it.

Some people might disagree and think that he is too young but if one day he does come down with depression and/or anxiety at least he’ll know that he is not the only one and that I would understand without judgement. I left out the BPD aspect of my brain because that would be a lot harder to explain to anyone of any age.

NI2M ❤

DepressionDiaries: Life Is Not A Race

Everyone is moving so quick these days. We’re all in a hurry to get… somewhere. We race to catch the bus or the train. Everything is about TIME how much time do I have to do this do that? When is the next thing happening?” We spend so much time looking down at our watches or phones checking the time that we’re actually wasting it.

Even when we have time to relax we don’t relax we spend the time thinking about what happened previously or what we need to do next. The world passes by in a blur as we race through it, not taking notice of anyone or anything just our goal.

How fast can I get to university? how fast can I get a job? how fast can I learn this? no matter what I have to be faster than my peers because that makes me better than them… Or does it?

While we spend our time rushing to our next goal thinking about how we can be better than others we’re not really taking the time to enjoy life are we? Its all a blur to those who are going through life faster, everything is fast for them including their heart rate. By being fast and “the best” the stress is greater therefore increasing the risk of both physical and mental health problems. So are the people who are faster than you REALLY better than you?

We seem to treat life like a race, we’re always thinking about the next thing and trying to meet our goals as fast as possible because we believe it will make us “better” than our fellow man (or woman) when really, people who live like that, they’re not really LIVING are they? they’re in a rush to meet their goals and be the first or the best. They seem to be rushing their life like they want to be the quickest to their grave.

So think about that if the fast paced race was too much for you that doesn’t make you weak, by taking the slower route you have the ability to properly LIVE by taking the time to really notice things that faster people cannot because the world is a blur to them but not to you.

Life Is Not A Race… SO take your time and take the next step when you are ready, you’ll more likely be better off in the long run 😉

snail-pace-300x234  NI2M ❤

DepressionDiaries: Reckless Behaviour

 

I’m conflicted about this; a part of myself is proud  for getting away with it another part is worried about what I’m becoming. I stole a pen from a shop, it was quite easy as someone had already done half the job for me (removing the pen from its packaging) which meant I could get out without setting off alarms because the pen had no bar code.

Earlier I had been having a terrible day to the point that I had a breakdown. My mum went into the shop and left me waiting in the car with anger and depression boiling up inside me. I started having fantasies about doing reckless things and how thrilling it would be to break the rules. After a while I gave in to temptation and walked into the shop with my goal to steal something in mind. Conflict inside my head; The angry rebellious teen egging me on and the fearful child worrying reminding me of the possible consequences.

I hovered round the toy/stationary section and I saw a journal, the bar code was only attached by a sleeve that I could easily remove. perhaps too easy I thought to myself I think this massive journal is a bit too ambitious so I put the journal back, it was then that I spotted the neglected brand new pen that had been removed from its packaging and it seemed that someone else already took the other two that was supposed to be in a pack with it.

I picked up the pen, hid it up my coat sleeve and headed for the exit; I’d never felt so scared or excited in my life as I past the security guards and the sensors and made it outside and got back in the car to continue waiting for my mum. Honestly I got a kick out of it and I felt alive straying away from my usual good citizen path but it wasn’t long before the guilt kicked in.

The police are probably going to come to your house

 It’s just a pen  

It starts with a pen the next thing you know it will be a TV  

Other people would rob my charity store at least I’m not as low as they are

 But you’re just as bad as them return the pen 

It’s not fair I should be able to get away with it, everyone else does

Not everyone give them the pen back and apologise

No I’m not doing all that for nothing

It wasn’t even that hard give the damn pen back

No I want to keep it as a trophy

You may see it as a trophy now but when your mood changes it will serve as reminder of your sins and you’ll be riddled with guilt every time you look at it and even if you get rid of it, you’ll have nightmares about that pen.

… That’s a bit of a stretch

It’s the truth besides your mum would be disappointed 

Um… What she don’t know won’t hurt her

She’ll find out, you know she will either through the police or through you because you’ll be overcome by guilt and imagine how that would make her feel. Did she raise a delinquent?

…. No

Then return the pen.

Ugh… Fine!

It was then I grabbed the pen and walked back into the shop I didn’t return it directly as I was afraid they would report me and I would be arrested in front of my mum and bring her shame. So I put it back where I found it and then I remembered something I’d seen on TV where a character made the others believe she lost the key when she had it in her pocket the whole time but when she was ready to go she simply dropped the keys when no one was looking and pretended she’d just found them and picked them up to show everyone.

That’s what I did with the pen, I pretended to be browsing and put the pen back where I found it but then picked it back up with it’s empty packaging and gave it to one of the shop assistants who had been walking by, pretending I’d only just found it, she said “thank you” and I felt a sense of relief wash over me. I’d done it, I got away with it but then I did the right thing and returned it. It took all of my willpower not to bolt out the exit though.

I think my problems are getting worse I read that stuff like this is to do with BPD. I’ve asked for therapy weeks possibly even months ago but nothing and clearly medication is not the be all and end all to my issues. I should probably take my dad’s offer to pay and go private…

 

UPDATE: I wrote this a few days ago on the day that I did it. I didn’t publish it because I feared what people would think of me but I decided that I would give the whole grizzly picture of my mental state as that’s kind of the point of this blog. I’m not bad but I am ill and the illness is getting worse. I’ve got an appointment to see a psychiatrist  in a couple of weeks. I’ll tell her about what’s been happening and see what she says.

NI2M ❤

 

DepressionDiaries: OUT OF ACTION

Trigger Warning: Self Harm and Strong Language

 

First of all I just want to apologise for my lack of interaction with other bloggers recently, its nothing personal this is just kind of a time where my brain is at its most sensitive so I have to be careful what I read in case of triggers.

Secondly, Thank you for 250 followers I would have done a special post for it but I didn’t and I’ll talk about why in a bit.

Thirdly, this post is to address my lack of activity on WordPress recently and in the near future.

You may recall that I said March was a tough month for me, on the 1st of the month this year I had to make an appointment to see a doctor about my intense anxiety. I managed to get my fluoxetine dose increased to 40mg which seems to have brought down my anxiety level but now my depression is dominant once again. I haven’t felt any inspiration or motivation to write my blog or fan-fiction after a phase of being super productive thanks to my anxiety.

Plus, guess what? I fucking relapsed! after months of being in control of myself I gave in and have started hurting myself again. I haven’t told anyone, I’ve kept it secret because I know my mum will be upset and I will once again lose her trust, professionals will just try and make me stop but I don’t think I’m ready. I had thoughts of self harm for ages (even before the medication increase before anyone says its to do with that) there was always a fight inside my head about it and in the end I gave in, I’m not going to lie it was a relief. I should probably talk to someone about this as I know this is unhealthy.

I’ve been detached from myself and reality recently, I heard that antidepressants can sort of do that so you’re not so in touch with your feelings… I feel numb and disconnected. I’m only half aware that I’m writing this I may not even remember writing this soon. The days have been passing by in a blur and I just feel like I’ve been going through the motions, not really taking anything in just letting my body do the work while my brain sits back passively. I’ve gone from having too much brain power to very little within two weeks.

Maybe I should not have increased my meds although perhaps I would be in a worse state if I hadn’t. I’m going away this Friday for three days to celebrate my birthday I hope I will be able to enjoy it as it is one of the few things I’ve been looking forward to this year.

NI2M ❤

 

 

 

 

DepressionDiaries: Home Sickness

Home sickness… this has been a problem for me for as long as I can remember. Specifically if I was separated from my mum; I remember sleeping over at my dad’s house when I was 10 years old because we were going to go to the hospital to meet my new baby half brother together but I was so anxious about being away from my mum that my dad had to take me back to her at midnight.

Actually every holiday I went on with my dad I would have to battle my intense anxiety about being away from home, it wasn’t until a couple of years ago that I got used to being away from home with my dad but that took years of annual holidays with him to achieve. I remember when I was 16 I went away for this thing called NCS (National Citizen Service) and I had to spend 2 weeks away from home, I didn’t make it through the second week.

homesick

A year later  I went on a three day summer school experience where I had to spend two nights at a university to get a taste of what uni life was like. I did make it through those two nights but on the first night my anxiety was awful, I was crying and everything, luckily I’d made a friend who let me stay in her room to talk for a while. The second night I was so exhausted (we went clubbing but with adult supervision and no alcohol, I did a lot of dancing though) that I didn’t have the energy to be anxious besides I was going home the next day.

khfvzus

More recently I was in hospital, both times, I’d cried and panicked and practically begged to go home. I did get through both weeks though (probably the medication they gave me to knock me out helped)

6-8__

 

 

 

Sleepovers with friends were difficult to, I could stay the whole night but I would get very little or even no sleep at all  whereas my friends would be able to sleep soundly and I didn’t want to offend them by making them feel like bad hosts or have them think I was a baby for wanting my mum so I would just… wait in the dark silence for the sun to rise and everyone to wake up instead of telling them I wanted to go home.

 

 

I would wonder why I am this way, I’m 18 (nearly 19) I should be glad to be away from home but that’s how “normal” people my age function. Not me, I have depression and BPD with anxiety  so I can’t be like them. Speaking of my BPD, I have a theory that it is linked to the home sickness I get so badly. You see, BPD occurs when your relationship with your primary attachment is disrupted at an early age (in my case, that would be my dad leaving the family home for his girlfriend when I was 6) but according to psychological studies you develop more than one attachment in case of such disruption; you can have another primary attachment figure (in my case that would be my mum) you can also have secondary attachments (e.g. grandparents, aunts & uncles, guardians/carers)

Since my mum is my other primary attachment figure it makes sense that I would fear losing her (which is the core reasoning of BPD, the fear of losing someone you’re attached to the same way you lost your first primary attachment) when I’m away from my mum I fear that something will befall her or, for whatever reason, I would not be able to return home to her, therefore losing the only other primary attachment figure I have and my dad doesn’t ease that fear because I am not as attached to him as I was before I was 6. He’s been demoted to a secondary attachment figure. So to summarise, My home sickness is my BPD being triggered as a result of being separated from my primary attachment figure.

My dad will be taking me on a weekend away for my 19th birthday soon (we’re going ghost hunting XD ) fingers crossed my separation anxiety doesn’t get the best of me otherwise I’m going to end up like this…

Having-Move-Back-Your-Parents-House

NI2M ❤