I am so sorry guys, for subjecting you to the dark depths of my BPD over the past few days. Thank you to all of you who rode out the low with me and are still here, supporting me.
I am feeling a lot better today. On Saturday, after my wibble about not having any clothes to wear, and dealing with my cuts, I pulled myself together in time for a friend, Phil, to arrive. He is someone I have known for a few years, through dogs, and normally lives over 3 hours away but has been working in London for the Olympics, and fancied coming to the balloon fiesta. Phil and I have a funny old relationship. We flirt, but nothing has ever happened, partly because until very recently he had a long term girlfriend. Many times he has tried to encourage me to have ‘web cam sex’ but I completely refuse because a) I think it’s cheap and b) My dad always told me never to do anything on the computer that could come back and bite you on the ass (OK so probably haven’t stuck to this rule very well but in this instance I’m going to!). He has also suggested a friends with benefits arrangement but as I told him, due to my attachment issues, I don’t think I could stop myself from falling in love with him, and that can only end badly. (I have more to talk about regarding this, scroll down to later in the post).
Anyway, he arrived, and thankfully was completely gentlemanly, as I hoped. I really hoped he wasn’t going to turn up and perhaps expect sex, or similar. I knew I wouldn’t have said no as I love having him as a friend, but it would have fucked our friendship up.
Hannah was late arriving but we finally set off to the Fiesta. Two hours later, after being sat in the worst traffic I have even experienced in Bristol city centre, I decided to put a Pink CD on. I love the song ‘Don’t let me get me’. I totally get it. I listen to it over and over again and completely identify with it. For those not in the know;
Now Hannah is a funny one. She is my best friend, in that we hang around a lot together. We go shopping, we go to the cinema, we waste lazy sunday afternoon cleaning our cars. But the relationship isn’t great. I have a feeling she is jealous of the life she thinks I have. Hannah never has any money, so a) She is jealous that I do and b) She uses me because I do. She would have money if she planned things properly, but she is pretty impulsive, so just spends on things she wants, rather than realising that she has responsibilities and bills to pay. She’s one of those people who thinks an overdraft is her money, i.e. When she has £0 in the bank with a £1500 overdraft, she thinks she has £1500 in the bank. It drives me crazy, because she works so hard 24/7 (She is a care assistant in a old peoples home) and could have spare money if she just planned things better. She thinks I’m spoilt, because I live with my parents, and am employed by them too. (She lives with her parents too). I guess she thinks I’ve got it easy and although she knows the issues I have had, perhaps she writes them off as past history.
Anyway, I digress. I played Hannah the pink song, and all she said to me, was ‘Bullshit! Bullshit!’. Talk about invalidation. I suppose some people you can’t talk to as they understand and some people you can’t – Hannah might just be one of the latter and I need to accept that rather than keep trying to make a relationship work which clearly is dysfunctional.
Anyway, moving on. We finally got to the Fiesta, and it was packed. I mean, PACKED. There were over 250,000 people there, and we were like frickin’ sardines in a tin. As you know, I am not good with crowds, but swallowed by anxiety and just dealt with it. (Cue deep breathing exercises!)
We were supposed to stay until 9.30pm for the event known as the night glow (all the balloons light up and it’s pretty spectacular) but I was struggling to deal with the crowds so suggested to Hannah we make a move before all 250,000 people try to get their cars out of the car park at the same time as us.
I got home about 9pm and chatted to Jen on facebook. I was still feeling pretty bad about things and suffering from frequent suicidal ideation and self harm urges. To make it worse, my arm was stinging like a bitch. I sliced it with an intact razor because a) It doesn’t cut as deep and b) It hurts more. Feeling the pain in my arm just made me want to do it again. I wanted to punish myself for being such a terrible, ugly person. I felt disgusting and hated myself.
Sunday I got up early and drove to a dog event which I had entered. I didn’t know whether to go, as I didn’t want to turn up and appear grumpy or moody – a lot of people don’t know my circumstances and therefore will assume I am just in a bad mood. I decided I would go, as I am not going to let my disorder ruin the things I enjoy in my life. Before I arrived, I actually stopped in a lay by and did a few ‘pull myself together’ exercises. I feel almost as though I apply make up at this point, like painting on a face. The ‘Happy go lucky’ me, rather than the terminally suicidal one. My cuts had finally stopped bleeding so I placed two simple plasters over them in the hope that it would just look as though I had fallen over.
Once the face was on, I was ready to arrive, and driving in the car park I was all smiles (as much as I possibly could), waving to people I know. I kept this up for most of the morning, chatting and being generally as chirpy as I could.
At lunchtime I went to find Simon. I have mentioned him a few times before (Go here or here). I was sat in his car, chatting away, pretty comfortable with things, and discussing our upcoming holiday to Iceland. A girl appears at his driver door, and joins in the conversation. As far as I was aware, she was a girl he had met recently and had been helping out training her dog (he had never mentioned her, but I’d seen pictures of them training on facebook). I can’t quite remember how it came up, but it soon became evident that Simon and this girl were together.
With all due respect to myself, ignoring the stab of pain I felt in my chest, I kept a completely straight face, and when she walked off, told Simon I was really happy for him. I asked if it would be a problem us going to Iceland together and he said no, he was really looking forward to it, and the girl knew we were going as friends, and nothing more. He added ‘whatever happens in Iceland stays in Iceland’ but I quickly pointed out to him that if he was with someone now, our arrangement stopped, as per the agreement at the very beginning.
I made my excuses and went off by myself. I needed some time to just be, rather than having to keep up the charade. I tried to work out why I was feeling so hurt about Simons’ new girlfriend. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have the courtesy to tell me that he had met someone, but what is more likely is that I feel I am being abandoned. And yes, it terrifies me, and it hurts like a bitch. I talked to Jen about it, but I guess I can’t expect someone who doesn’t have BPD to understand where I am coming from on this one. Yes, I didn’t want a relationship with him. It would have been too complicated, and someone would have got hurt. It’s always the same with people who get involved with me. But, regardless of that, I didn’t want to lose him. I care about him a lot. And this girl appeared very possessive. She was always around him yesterday, and they walked around hand in hand for most of the day. Is this what feeling heartbroken feels like? Mostly, I feel sad that the one place I knew I could get intimacy and affection from has gone. It is not right to ask friends like Jen to cuddle me as tight as I need to be cuddled, to make me feel safe. They wouldn’t feel comfortable I suppose, and that is perfectly normal. Perhaps this is why I have given so many people the wrong impression of myself in the past. People think I am coming on to them, when in reality, I am only looking for someone to hold me tight, and make it all okay.
I spent most of the afternoon with Jen, and we chatted a lot. I am so grateful that I have her support and love. She really is an amazing person. Perhaps I only feel this way because I have put her on a pedestal, but regardless of this, I am going to fight tooth and nail to make sure this time I do not take her off it, as is the normal BPD pattern.
I also talked a little to a woman called Kim. She has been poorly lately with physical issues so is only just starting to get back into the ‘events’ scene. She comes across as very confident, and carefree, but I do get a vulnerability vibe from her (damn the perception that comes with BPD). She disappeared early, and someone said she left upset, which really concerned me. She has shown me nothing but kindness, and I suppose the anxiety I felt may have been related to the fact that I feel happiest when I am helping someone, and someone upset normally needs help.
I phoned her later that evening, and we had a long, long chat about things. She cried, I cried, we both cried again. She knew nothing of my past, and just thought I was a lovely, carefree girl, which was very touching. I opened up to her, and she opened up to me. She wasn’t shocked by anything I said, and didn’t judge me. She made me promise to phone the doctor and put pressure on them to get my referral sorted, which I said I would.
One thing she said did affect me deeply. She is also friends with Jen, and she said that on several occasions, Jen had seemed a little down, and had mentioned that she was worried about someone. The thought that I am affecting her in that way, makes me so, so angry at myself. My first reaction is to punish myself, but of course, I know this is a vicious circle, and if I do that, I am only going to end up hurting her even more. I have to get better, if not for myself, but for the people who care about me. I have to keep telling myself that I deserve to be cared about, that I deserve their love. At the moment, I don’t feel like I do, but if I keep saying it, maybe it will sink in.
I do know one thing though. I am going to do everything in my power to stop hurting the people I love. Not because I don’t want them to leave me (although of course, that will always be in the back of my mind). This is because I love them far too much to carry on doing it, and most importantly, they all deserve better.
On a final note, I have made a big decision, which is very painful, but I feel as though it is the right one. I have decided to return Rosa to her breeder in Europe. Oh, my beautiful girl. I have tried and tried to make this work, but it simply isn’t going to. She is bred with European bloodlines, and for those not in the know, this means all she thinks about is hunting, hunting and more hunting. She is not bred to be a pet, or for a novice like me to be able to control. Where Hogan is a Ford, Rosa is a Ferrari! I have spent a long time and a lot of money getting her sound, and now I feel I have to do the right thing by her. She is going back to Holland to find a home with someone who is much more experienced than me. This is one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make and it has broken my heart.