I nearly crashed my car, and had a slight relapse.

And it wasn’t even deliberate. Perhaps I wasn’t really concentrating, not really been ‘myself’ the past fews days; I was driving along the A road towards my house, following a delivery van. Suddenly, this van slowed almost to a halt and put its hazards lights on. Without really thinking, I swerved out the bypass the van, and at the same time the van swung out forward to give itself room to reverse into a narrow driveway. I swerved to avoid it, right into the path of an oncoming car, which I managed to miss by what must have been inches. All this happened at about 60 miles per hour, in quick succession.

The strange this is, after I was driving away, I didn’t feel relieved, or pumped full of adrenaline. I felt sad. I felt sad that I had been lucky enough to avoid the collision, which would have probably either killed me or seriously injured me, as I was also not wearing a seatbelt at the time (probably in the subconcious hope that something like this would happen…)

This morning I went to the new doctors and registered as a patient. I also booked an appointment for 5.10pm tomorrow at which I am going to ask for a referral to the service which provides dialectical behaviour therapy. I need to do something as I know the way I am is hurting the people that love me. I had a conversation with my friend Hev last night (she also suffers from BPD and is currently hospitalised under a Section 3). I wanted her advice on my feelings towards Jen, and how I could regulate them, as currently it hurts to think about how much I care for her. I know it’s not normal to be willing to do anything for someone, but I feel like this a lot of the time about people I care for. Does that just make me an overly caring person is that my personality disorder? I don’t know.

This not only makes me worry I will be too clingy and make her back off, but it also leads to a risk, if something were to happen to her, that I go down the ‘I can’t live without you’ route. I know this isn’t emotionally stable thinking and I need help with that. Hev didn’t really have any advice as she goes through the same thing with certain people. I talked to her about that the fact that I love her and her family just as much, and that I was worried that was innapropriate too. She explained to me that her and her family felt the same way about me, and although she said that, I have trouble believing it. How come someone love someone like me?

Picture courtesy of Leah On Demand

Last night was a really bad night for me, and I had a relapse of sorts. As I was driving home from the dog event I had been at all day, I felt a strong urge to harm myself. I knew I had a razor blade in my car, ready and waiting, but couldn’t face having to go to hospital and sit there for several hours waiting to be stitched. I stopped off at McDonalds and spent almost £10 on various meals, chicken nuggets, wraps etc and ate everything. Soon after I got home, I purged. It hurt so much. I don’t know whether I have done damage from years of previous purging but I get pain in my shoulders, the back of my lungs, and all the way up my oesophagus. When I had finished, and cleaned myself up, I curled myself up in a ball on the bathroom floor and cried my eyes out. My parents, as I mentioned before, are away this week, and yet again, I felt so, so alone. After a little while I dragged myself up, completely drained, and decided to watch some TV, as my favourite soaps were playing (they don’t normally play on the weekend). After they had finished, I walked into the kitchen, to find my parents had left a table full of ‘treats’ for me – cookies, chocolate, crisps. I know they were trying to be nice but I also knew what was going to happen. I ate the lot, and then went back to the bathroom to purge it all again. This time, I threw up blood, I presume because I haven’t purged in such a long while, and then did it repeatedly. Yet again, after I had cleaned myself up, I curled up in a ball and cried. I didn’t know whether this was going to carry on all night, or whether I was going to be able to get some relief.

When I picked up my phone, I noticed I had a few messages from Jen. I know she is concerned about me, but I don’t know how to rest her mind at ease. I went on facebook to speak to her, but find it a little uncomfortable discussing how I feel about suicide. It is almost as though speaking about it out loud means I won’t be able to do it. I find it hard telling her how much I hate myself right now. I don’t want to come across as attention seeking, whining or fishing for compliments. I can’t explain how bad I feel in an articulate way. I wish I could be normal, a good person, useful, fun to be around. I wish I could make other people happy and fulfilled. I wish I was needed. I want to be able to help people, to have a purpose.

I suppose it all comes down to the fact that I want to be loved. Maybe because I didn’t feel loved growing up. I know now, that I was, and am, loved very much by my family. I suppose the prolonged period through childhood and teenhood of questioning that has had a long term impact on how I feel about things. I would do anything to be accepted and loved by people.

Picture courtesy of Jaslin @ WordPress

I’ve also got an ongoing problem with the Mirena coil at the moment. It has been hurting for a while, so I decided to get it taken out. I went to the nurse, who couldn’t find the strings. This was a big deal for me, I have a really big issue about this sort of thing, and have memories of being a terrified 16 year old crying my eyes out whilst being examined. But, nonetheless, I went and forced myself to go through with it. Because she couldn’t find the strings, I had to return the next day for it to be done by a doctor, who also couldn’t find the strings.

I was referred for an ultrasound, which took more than two months to come through, and the coil was located within my womb (thankfully, as the other option was that it had migrated into my stomach!). I was phoning the doctor all last week to try to find out what the ‘next step’ was with not much progress. They tried to tell me to go back to the nurse but I’m not willing to do that. I don’t want to go through this more times than I absolutely have to as I get very upset when I have to do it. I finally managed, this morning, to arrange an appointment for Friday, with the doctor, and a nurse, to have it done. He said he has a special ‘implement’ which goes inside the uterus to retrieve the strings. Even the thought of that makes me feel like I want to vomit – but this is something I just have to be a big girl about and do it. I suppose it makes it worse that I will be going on my own, but on the other side of it I’m not really sure I would want a friend in the room with me to witness that sort of thing. I remember going to support a friend having one put in, and that was unpleasant for me to watch, not even imagining how bad she must have felt.

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