If I were to say “I have not been doing well for some time,” it wouldn’t be 100% true. The fact of the matter is, as with most mental illnesses, some days (or weeks) are better, and some are worse. Overall, I would have to say that in the past few months, I’ve had more “good days” versus “bad days,” but the bad days run together and are so exhausting that they can make me forget the week of good ones I just had a few days ago.
This week did not go very well. I woke up Monday morning, after a couple weeks (maybe even longer) of being fairly successful at moderating and working through any onsets of BPD-esque feelings and whatnot, and felt absolutely awful. Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were basically filled with feelings of depression, loneliness, irritability, and hoplessness.
Why? I really don’t know. I felt alone, and I felt sad. Thoughts of all the friendships that have come and gone, evolved, changed, lessened…came to the forefront of my mind, so clear and unavoidable. And with these thoughts came this underlying and overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness that left me more vulnerable to being triggered.
It’s been pretty bad. Not the worst, but really troubling, difficult, and painful. I won’t go into too much detail, but I feel that I have taken massive steps back in dealing and coping with the pain, which has been immense. There is this quote that came to mind so many times this week:
It’s a confusing thing being inside the brain of someone with BPD. Most obvious statement of my life? heh.
I can’t really write anymore because my thoughts are so incoherent, so I’m just going to leave this word-vomit here:
Hullo. Hi hi.
I’m sorry for being so difficult sometimes. It’s hard for me to regulate my emotions, and when I fall into the dark and twisties, I lose sight of everything that we’ve experienced, all that we’ve changed, accomplished, and continue working on. I feel so trapped and helpless inside my mind, like a stranger on the other side of the glass, watching someone self-destruct. All I want is for it to end, to not feel those things, to not have those thoughts. And a wounded animal who doesn’t know what’s happening to it, I lash out, I hide and run away, I try anything and everything I can think of to escape, often leaving a trail of hurt, pain, and confusion behind me. Sometimes I want to save everyone around me from myself because I don’t know how to save ME from myself, but it’s easily misconstrued as firing ammunition against those who are closest and dearest to me. I never, ever want to hurt you. Most of the time, it’s myself that I want to punish, myself that I can’t stand, myself that I blame for everything, and it hurts so much to feel that hate and anger I direct at myself. Thank you for staying and not leaving, thank you for your patience, thank you for showing me so much unconditional love. I will keep trying.
And to all of you,
I’m sorry for pulling away. I’m sorry for being so god damn complicated, for not knowing how to reach out and then passively resenting you for not trying to understand me more or fight back when I pushed. You don’t deserve it. And at the same time, for those of you who have left, I’m sorry that I was too much for you. I’m sorry if you didn’t know how to handle me or my reactions. I’m sorry I didn’t know sooner how to explain myself. I’m so sorry if the imprint I left on your life has more negative memories and emotions defining it than positive. I wish we could try again, that we could move forward. Now I know how to let you set and define your own boundaries, how to somewhat better explain myself when I’m in the rational, logical place in order to better arm you if/when the time comes that I lose control again.