Archive for the ‘BPD’ Category

Stability & happiness

Posted: May 29, 2013 in BPD
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It’s been a while since I last wrote a blog entry. Mainly because I’ve not had anything to write about. No issues have arisen recently & I’ve had nothing interesting to say or moan about. I’ve been pretty stable & boring for a good few weeks so don’t expect this entry to be interesting, it’ll probably be dull & boring. I really just wanted to write a little something to update you on what’s going on with me. As I said I’ve been stable for a good few weeks. It’s been over 6 weeks since my last hospital admission. So that’s definitely progress after being hospitalised nearly every week for a few months. I started off this year not in a good way at all, I hated my life so much & I felt so bad within myself. I was very unstable until mid April hence the repeated self harm & hospitalisations. Since my last hospitalisation things have got much better, my mood has improved, I haven’t self harmed, I’ve quit drinking alcohol & I feel much happier within myself. The way it seems to work for me is that I have a crisis, get hospitalised then have a period of stability for a good while. But this year I needed a good few hospitalisations before I got it out of my system & the admissions provided the relief that I needed. This year it was like one long crisis that lasted a few months & it was harder to find that relief I needed. Back when I was in hospital for those 2 years I had to hit ultimate rock bottom before I managed to get myself together & progress enough for discharge. After that rock bottom I quickly regained stability & I progressed quickly. It seems to be that the worse the crisis the better the stability after it is over. I don’t know if anyone else can relate to that but that’s how it seems to work for me. Like now, that lengthy crisis is over & I feel better within myself than I have done probably since the stability after rock bottom in hospital 2 years ago. Nothing has changed in my life, I’m still in the same situation I was in at the start of the year that caused me to be so desperately unhappy but the important thing is that I’m happy within myself. The happiness I’m feeling within myself is enabling me in sense to push away the external negatives in my life. I guess when you aren’t feeling great within yourself it’s easy to focus on the external negatives & that just exacerbates the inner emotions. You hurt inside so you hate outside & the hate for the outside reinforces the hurt on the inside. At the moment I don’t seem to be focusing on the negatives on the outside, what’s important is how I’m feeling on the inside. Perhaps this happiness is masking all the the crap on the outside. My life situation hasn’t changed from before & despite being happier & more positive I haven’t dealt with any of the things that need to be dealt with. I’m not even thinking about about dealing with things despite being in a better position to do so mentally & emotionally, I’m just enjoying feeling happier within myself for now. It’s not often I feel like this & I know it’s not going to last forever so I need to enjoy it while it lasts & that’s not me being negative, that’s just the conclusion made on evidence based history & the nature of my personality disorder. For once I am allowing myself to be happy too, I haven’t made any attempts at self sabotage nor has the thought of doing so crossed my mind. I often struggle when feeling a bit better in myself, I feel I don’t deserve to feel good & I must make myself feel bad again. That’s where the self sabotage comes in. But I think at the moment this happiness is a bit deeper than it usually gets & that’s enabling me to push away the negativity that usually creeps in with my more superficial happiness. I guess it’s not even a case of pushing away the negativity, at the moment it seems there’s a total mental block on negativity & the happiness is destroying the negativity before it even enters my consciousness. The fact there’s no negativity within me at the moment is a very big rarity. I think the degree of this happiness is reinforcing itself by killing the negativity before it gets to my consciousness. The happiness is reinforcing in other ways too. I haven’t self harmed, not even thought about it which makes me feel better within myself. Perhaps the most surprising thing is that i haven’t had an alcoholic drink in over 6 weeks & perhaps even more surprising is that I haven’t even wanted to. I’ve had no desire to drink in a good while now, I’ve not even been tempted by offers of going to the pub or going on nights out with friends. The total avoidance of alcohol has definitely helped reinforce how I feel within myself. I can even acknowledge the fact I have done well in this. But if I were to bring in a slight negativity it would be that the fact the alcohol avoidance has come so easily & I haven’t had to put in any effort to avoid it that perhaps It’s not down to me but the happiness I feel within myself at the moment. I never thought quitting alcohol could Come so easy & it’s a big surprise to me that it has & a testament to how much better I’m feeling within myself at the moment. Another thing that may or may not have helped, it’s hard to know for sure is medication. I started on the quetiapine in February so now there’s been plenty of time for it to get in my system & work. I’m now on a stable dosage of 600mg XL & although its impossible to know for sure it’s my feelings that it has helped. So I managed to climb out of my crisis & things have been good since. The happiness, the no self harm, the no drinking & the medication are all feeding in to & reinforcing each other & the consequence is I feel better than I have done in a long time. I am stable mentally, emotionally & mood wise. I often find stable quite boring after being used to chaos throughout my life, but because I have stable accompanied by a genuine happiness rather than numbness I’m actually enjoying the stable. So yes I’m stable right now & I’m not finding it boring, I’m very happy & content with it. For once I’m enjoying being normal.



Posted: March 12, 2013 in BPD, self harm
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So as I was talking on twitter about my scarring I thought I’d write something about it in more detail & include some of the thoughts I earlier mentioned on twitter. I have scars, lots of scars from years of self harming. They are pretty severe but it’s often like they are just part of me & I don’t really take much notice of them. But then they are the times I do notice them & they evoke lots of thoughts & feelings. My initial feeling is often one of sadness at how I could do this to myself? My arms are pretty much a total mess, damaged beyond repair. I feel sad at knowing I have to live my entire life with them, you only get one body in this life & I’ve totally fucked mine up. If I had a lesser degree of scarring then perhaps I would have more of an incentive to stop self harming, that incentive being to avoid the severe scarring. But now I often think what is the point in stopping? My arms are already so damaged & scarred that does it really matter if I make them worse? I often get angry with myself for letting my arms get in such a state because there’s no going back now, like I said I’m stuck with them forever. One life, one body. I wish I had never started self harming but at the same time I couldn’t imagine life without it, it’s become part of me & what I do. It’s become normalised into my way of life. I was 13 when I started self harming & how I wish I could somehow go back & give my 13 year old self a good talking to but also a hug. But most importantly I wish I could inform my 13 year old self of what would become of this self harm business over 10 years later & the permanent & severe damage it would cause. The scarring was never so bad until I was much older. It’s like as the mental stuff got worse the cuts got deeper & the scarring got worse. The harder things got & the more I self harmed the greater the need for more severe self harm. I guess it’s like a drug in that your body becomes accustomed to it & you need more of that drug to get the same effect. In the moment when I get the self harming thoughts it’s like it’s the only option at the time. The need to punish myself & create a release is overpowering. But it’s like the last couple of lines to my recent self harm poem “the scarred one” that “when the blood has dried & gone, forever I’ll remain the scarred one”. It’s not such much the act of self harm that is the problem, it’s the scars that remain after. Yet for some reason I never seem to ask myself the question of whether its worth it? Maybe I should start doing that but like I said earlier is it too late now? I think I mustn’t have any respect for my body in order to do this to myself, to inflict such hurt & damage onto myself. Or maybe it’s just that all the things that are mentally wrong with me outweigh the respect I have for my body. After all self harm is a mental thing that just happens to have the physical consequences. It’s a given fact that there’s obviously something very mentally wrong with me in order to do this to myself. But mental states aren’t permanent but the consequences of those mental states are. I have been cursed with the disorder they call bpd. It effects me in so many ways & in ways which have caused this self harm. Bpd is the only disorder that includes self harm in the diagnostic criteria & I often wish I had some other disorder that didn’t cause all this physical scarring. One that I could hide & keep in my head & one that didn’t leave any physical evidence. I know that self harm is not exclusive to bpd but the chances are that without the bpd I probably wouldn’t self harm. I often don’t hold much hope of getting better & recovering but at least there is a chance to recover from these psychological issues. However there is no chance to recover from the physical manifestation of the psychological problems. Lets say for a moment I do recover, I begin to lead a more normal life & I stop self harming, I’ll still have all the scars. They’ll be a constant reminder of all the things I’ve been through. There’s no escaping the scarring & how do I integrate that with leading a normal life? I don’t want to have to hide my arms away for the rest of my life & although part of me is not ashamed I do however fear being judged on the physical remainders of what was once mental distress. People’s attitudes to self harm aren’t great & 20 years down the line will I still be getting judged in a negative way for something that happened so long ago? These scars make me fear the future so much more. I fear that these scars will hold me back, even if its just in my own head. The relief of a cut is so temporary but the consequence of that cut is so permanent. I do have to live with these scars forever& that is a scary thought. It’s easy to say I should never have started self harming but I did & there is no going back now. I guess I’ll have to learn to live with them, accept them & attempt to see them in a more positive way. People often say not to look at them as a reminder of the bad times but rather more positively such as “look what I’ve survived”.

I was first hospitalised just over a week after my 22nd birthday. Since then in the last 3 & a bit years I’ve had 8 hospitalisations, 1 of which was for 2 years. The 1st one was after I severely self harmed, severely enough to warrant being admitted to the plastic surgery unit. It was a voluntary admission & I was admitted to the assessment ward where I was discharged after 3 days. I was incredibly unwell at the time & upon discharge I didn’t know what to do so I walked straight to the bridge where I was arrested under section 136 & ended up being detained under section 2 of the mental health act within a few hours of discharge. I was incredibly shocked at being sectioned & never thought it would happen to me. But it did happen & from there I ended up being detained for the next 2 years. Since discharge after those 2 years in November 2011 I’ve been hospitalised a further 6 times. Twice under a section, once partly sectioned partly informal & the 3 recent informal admissions. So does hospital help? Is it necessary? What are my experiences? Good? Bad? Those are some difficult questions to answer but I will try answer them as honestly as I can. My 1st admission was like a brief introductory to inpatient treatment. I felt relief at being admitted as myself & my life was one big chaotic mess & I was severely unstable at the time. However the relief was short lived as I was discharged after 3 days. I’m not sure why I was discharged after only 3 days because it was quite clear I was very unwell. The only thoughts I have on the issue is because of my diagnosis of bpd & the fact they do not generally like to admit people with bpd except for short “crisis admissions” of 72 hours. It was a bad experience really because I felt secure on the ward & then it felt like they just chucked me out to all the shit without anything being changed at all. In fact things were worse cos they told me at my discharge meeting that my cpn had been taken away from me. I remember being so angry & storming off the ward, I was incredibly desperate & walked straight to the bridge because I saw no other option than to end my life. Luckily I was intercepted by the police & from there detained for the 1st time under the mental health act. I was admitted back to the assessment unit but this time they decided to keep me in & I was sent to the treatment unit. I was there for only 4 days & then because of a couple of incidents was sent to the low secure psychiatric intensive care unit (PICU). Little did I know at the time I would spend the next 2 years in secure units. Indeed I was told the admission to PICU was for a short assessment. Within a few days of admission to the PICU I was placed on anti psychotic medication despite never having a period of psychosis in my life. It just seems that anti psychotic medication is a catch all treatment for anyone detained in hospital. It’s more about sedation than anything else & attempting to keep you quiet. I was a very angry person while on the PICU & often flipped out smashing windows, breaking doors & furniture. I was constantly being restrained, IM’d & secluded. For that reason I definitely think it was necessary to be in hospital & in a PICU. I was very unstable at the time & couldn’t have imagined being at any other place during that time. I guess there was no other option than being there but at the same time I guess it was a bit unhelpful because the staff were very attentive & I became so used to that & dependant on it. I guess that was the start of the slight institutionalisation I’ve developed. After a few months on the ward & my consistently unstable behaviour it was decided that I would be sent somewhere for treatment long term. Obviously they couldn’t discharge me given my mental state & behaviour nor could they keep me on the PICU long term. Funding was granted & I was to be sent onto a low secure specialist personality disorder unit. However in the month or so before I was transferred I did calm down significantly & I feel the right thing to do would of been to keep me on the PICU a while longer & be discharged into the community. However their minds had been made up & I was sent on to the personality disorder unit regardless. I’d been detained for 6 months on the PICU when I was transferred & I was desperate to get out of there despite it not being such a bad place to be looking back. At the time I was quite looking forward to going to the PD unit knowing it was private & thinking I’d get good quality care & treatment to help me get better, how wrong was I! It was a horrible place, strict, confined, incompetent & disorganised. I hated it so very much & from the moment I got there all I fixated on was getting out of the hell hole. Of cause I hated being there the whole 18 months I was there but at the start it was particularly difficult, I didn’t know how I was going to cope & make it through each day there. Of cause over time I got used to the place & it became more bearable but I still hated the place so much the entire time I was there. It was a forensic secure unit & as a consequence there was many rules & regulations which I found difficult to cope with, it felt like a prison at times. In the end, after 6 months of being there it took its toll & I got significantly unwell again after being quite stable for quite a few months. It was a very low point in my life, I was probably the most unwell I’d ever been & it was caused by being in a place that was meant to be making me better. It lasted about a month & in that time I was frequently placed on 2:1 observations. After being at my lowest the only way was up & I got better quite quickly. I progressed through all the things required of me to be discharged & eventually was after 18 months of being there. Being there was a bad experience & I don’t think I should have ever been sent there. Everybody else were under court hospital orders for committing crimes or had spent years being “revolving door patients”. The other patients often said they couldn’t believe I’d been sent there on my first detention under the mental health act & that I was incredibly unlucky. I remember my very first CPA meeting there my case manager said that the outcome of the PD pathways assessment I’d had while in the PICU concluded that the best treatment pathway for me would be a community based one but that the level of care I needed was unavailable in that area so the only option was hospital. It angered me so much when I found that out because how can they jump from community being better for me to placing me in a secure unit? It wasn’t the treatment I received that made me better enough for discharge either, rather the horrible experience of being there & the overwhelming desire to get out. If I’m honest I played the game, you had to if you wanted to get out. Of cause I pissed about & had a laugh pushing boundaries & being mischievous as that’s what made the place more bearable, having a sense of humour. But when it came to serious stuff I did what was required of me although mostly I faked engagement. We were pretty much forced to do DBT which I genuinely hated so much because of the circumstances in which I did it. I never had individual psychology sessions either until the nearing of my discharge cos of an incident that happened. The occupational therapist actually told me that there wasn’t enough therapy sessions to go around & cos I had no history of abuse I wasn’t priority. I could write so much about this place but I would be here for hours doing so. So in the end I was finally discharged. I thought I was better & so did they but I think the stable environment lead me into a false sense if security within myself. I fell apart pretty quickly after discharge & started self harming again. I really don’t think I got any benefit from being in that place. I think the admission to PICU was necessary but it should have ended there. That 2 year hospitalisation in some ways made me better but it many ways it has made me worse. It has destroyed my confidence so much, I didn’t have much confidence before but it totally shattered the tiny bit I did have. I am obviously a different person due to the experience but not necessarily for the good. I feel much weaker & less able to handle even the smallest of things. Of cause there’s the slight institutionalisation I developed while being in there too & this need for a high level of care & dependency I feel unable to be able to escape from. If I could go back I’d do anything I could to make me more stable while I was in PICU so I didn’t get sent to that place. As I said when I got out I went back to being unwell & it only took 4 months until I was hospitalised again. Firstly it was a short admission of about 5 days in march 2012 which was half informal half under a section 5(2). I don’t really remember much about that to be honest. About a week after that I ended up back in hospital under a section once more. I ended up on a PICU again but a different one as I was now back in my hometown whereas before I was away at university. The PICU in this area isn’t a secure unit however, just a locked unit. I spent 3 & a half weeks there before winning my tribunal & being discharged. I spent the first 2 weeks of that admission on 1:1 observations & frequently being restrained & IM’d before I settled down. I think that admission as much as I hated it was necessary as I was unwell again at the time. I also think it was helpful as it provided some relief & stability which lasted quite a few months until my next admission in October 2012. I was totally out of it at the time after putting my head through a window & attempting to jump in the river. I was sectioned again. I was sent to the normal acute unit for my town which is the most horrible unit. I hate the place & even professionals have agreed its not a nice place. I spent 5 days there before being sent on home leave with a view to come back in 5 days in order to be discharged. It was too soon though & I was still unstable & after a few days at home I ended up being recalled back to hospital but this time sent to the PICU again. I spent a week on the PICU before being discharged. I was better by this time & managed to stay out for a few months until my recent informal admissions to ward 18. I don’t think these 3 recent informal admissions have helped one bit. I think the first one was necessary but the last 2 were not. The first 2 were positive experiences but the third one spoiled that after I felt they chucked me out & went against what I thought was the plan of a longer admission to get me sorted. So overall it’s hard to say if hospital is helpful. Sometimes it’s definitely not helpful & indeed counterproductive. Sometimes it is useful & serves its purpose though. Sometimes as much as I hate it it is necessary too. I think it’s hard to know until after if an admission is the right thing to do. I do feel that because I’ve Been admitted & sectioned in the past they more readily admit you or section you. I guess hospital is never an ideal place to be & should be avoided if possible. They say they avoid it if they can all the time but it doesn’t always seem to be the case. Anyway I hope to avoid future admissions to acute units, PICUs & secure units as often they do more damage than good. In general my experiences of hospitals have been pretty negative & the positive experiences I have had are very much overshadowed by the really awful experiences. All in all I think hospital admissions aren’t good because even when they are being useful they are being damaging at the same time. The issue of hospital is a very complex & there are so many levels to it being bad & good

6 weeks, 3 admissions

Posted: March 10, 2013 in BPD, hospital, self harm
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So I’ve had 3 hospital admissions in the last 6 weeks. I’ve never had such frequent admissions. Its rather on the excessive side for even my own rather excessive standards. Usually they are a good few months apart. However these admissions have been different to my usual admissions being that they were informal rather than me being detained under the mental health act. Things haven’t been great since the beginning of the year. I’ve had desperate feelings of hopelessness & self hate that have become more intense than their usual presence. However I wouldn’t say throughout these past 2 months or so I’ve had a severe acute unwellness that has often caused my previous detentions under the mental health act. I’ve not been majorly unwell but I guess to a certain degree I have been unwell enough to warrant voluntary admissions to hospital. They’ve all occurred after periods of self harm. There’s something about recent times that has caused my self harm to become more frequent. Usually I only engage in quite serious self harm needing hospital treatment every couple of months, sometimes longer but recently it’s been every other week. Back in January one Monday night I self harmed. The police got involved which can make things so much worse. The police took me to A&E where I had over 30 staples put in my arms. I was then assessed by the mental health team who gave me the option of staying the night at my parents or being taken to the police cells to await a mental health act assessment. I chose to go to my parents. The next day I saw my cpn who offered me a voluntary admission. I declined even though I knew it was the right thing to do. I just couldn’t bring myself to agree to go into hospital as I’ve had negative experiences of hospital where I am usually detained under the mental health act. Later that night I self harmed again. I spoke to a nurse on the phone from the out of hours team who persuaded me to take myself to A&E & then go voluntary into hospital. I ended up on ward 18, one of the few wards in my area that I hadn’t previously been on. I didn’t like any of the wards I had previously been on but this ward was much nicer as were the staff. It was a much more bearable place to be & I managed to stay for 6 days before having enough & discharging myself. It was the first positive experience of hospital I’d ever really had & I told my cpn that in the future I’d agree to go in hospital again if needed as long as it was ward 18. About 2 & a half weeks later I self harmed again. The police were involved again & I was arrested under section 136. After treatment for my self harm in A&E I was taken to the 136 suite to be assessed under the mental health act. After the positive experience I agreed to go into hospital as there was a bed available on ward 18 & I avoided being sectioned. This time I’d had enough after 4 days & discharged myself. That was on the Monday & by Sunday I had self harmed again. The police were involved again & I was again arrested under section 136. This time however before A&E I was taken to the police cells & subjected to a strip search. That was a very unpleasant experience. Once at A&E I had 38 stitches before being taken once again to the 136 suite to be assessed under the mental health act. Again there was a bed on ward 18 so I agreed to go in voluntarily & avoided a section. The doctors who assessed me said I should stay longer this time due to all these recent admissions. So I thought that was the plan. On the 5th day I was getting towards feeling I wanted to go home but was prepared to stay as that was what I thought the plan was. However I went into ward round & was told I was getting discharged. This is the only time ever I’ve felt unhappy about being discharged from hospital. Normally it comes as a great relief. Well I guess I was more angry than unhappy. I wasn’t too bothered to be going home but angry I was being discharged if that makes sense. I thought the plan was to stay longer which I was trying to do. Another thing was what the consultant said in ward round. That if needed I could have another “crisis admission” like it was ok to keep having all these frequent admissions instead of me staying longer & attempting to sort things out for myself a bit better. So I came home quite pissed off, I had thoughts of harming myself quite seriously as a way of getting back at them. I knew that was stupid though & I was pretty drained so I never. However now I’ve resorted back to the never wanting to go back into hospital again, or more accurately unwilling to agree to go into hospital again. I don’t see the point in all honesty. I self harmed on the ward in all 3 admissions, although admittedly not as severely as I could do at home. I admit I feel safer on the ward & I take some comfort in that but at the same time I have the same thoughts to hurt myself & I do. Obviously I’m limited as to what I can do with being on the ward but its still possible to self harm to a lesser degree. I’m sure after my 3rd admission to ward 18 the staff are pretty fed up & annoyed at me too because despite agreeing to be there I don’t always work with them. I’m sure they see me as another attention seeking borderline. Oh well I don’t really care because I’m not going back into hospital anyway. This is my promise, I’ll never agree to be admitted to hospital ever again.

Self Harm

Posted: March 1, 2013 in BPD, self harm
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So as today is self harm awareness day I thought I’d write something about my own self harm. I started self harming when I was about 13 years old. Up until the age of 13 as far as I can recall I was a pretty average child. Then it was almost like a switch going off in my head, I suddenly became a child with many issues; behavioural, emotional & psychological. That’s how I remember it anyhow, but it probably wasn’t like that at all if I think about it logically. I was probably troubled much before I & others became aware of it. I think the tipping point between being an average child & being an emotionally disturbed child was when I first picked up that sharp object & cut myself. Weirdly I do not recall the first time I ever cut myself. I can’t remember the specific reasons why I decided to hurt myself. I really wish I did but for some reason I don’t remember. It was like one day I was an innocent child & the next I was in a very desperate world where I felt the need to inflict harm upon myself. Things would never be the same again after that moment I first cut myself whenever that was. Of cause it started with a few scratch like cuts, I can’t remember what I first used to cut myself. I remember in my younger teenage years using anything really. A compass, a blade from a razor, glass, anything sharp I could get my hands on. I used to self harm mainly at home hiding in my bedroom but I did self harm at school too. I can’t really remember the frequency of my self harm either. It’s not just on the topic of self harm that I have a poor memory, I have very poor memories of anything that occurred in my childhood before I was about 15 years old. I remember the occasion when my mother found out I self harmed. Maybe I was about 15 years old but I’m not all too sure. I think I had self harmed the night before & I had used toilet tissue to clean the blood from my arm, I had then hid the bloodied tissue in the drawer next to my bed along with some razor blades. The next day my mother went in that drawer & found them. She then obviously put 2 & 2 together & realised I’d been cutting myself. She obviously wasn’t happy & probably not knowing how to respond got mad at me. That just made things worse. I was a very angry teenager & not only did I take that out on myself by cutting myself, I directed a lot of anger towards my parents too. School became aware at some point that I self harmed, I can’t recall how or when. I used to see the school nurse for counselling type sessions & remember discussing it with her. She was very nice & understanding but nothing helped enough for me being able to stop self harming. Once I started self harming at 13 I’ve never been able to stop. I continued self harming all throughout high school. They were never deep cuts & I never got significant scarring from them. Just a few faint lines upon my lower arms. When I moved onto college I still continued to self harm, it wasn’t all too frequent but I still did do it. By this time the cuts had got slightly deeper but still not overly bad. It wasn’t until I moved to university & where i struggled far much more emotionally & psychologically when my self harm got worse. I lasted less than 3 months at university before they asked me to leave due to me being to unwell to study due to repeated self harm amongst other things. I went back home & continued to self harm but it did calm down a bit in the months I was home. It was when I moved back to university the following September when my self harm became significantly worse. Up until this time I’d only had a few A&E admissions due to self harm but suddenly I was cutting deep & having frequent A&E visits for sutures. The first time I did it really bad was when I attempted to cut my wrist, not because I wanted to die but because I dared myself to see if I could do it. It was a very deep cut, one that exposed tendons etc in my wrist. I was exceptionally lucky not to have inflicted permanent damage to the movement within my hand. I went to A&E & was admitted to the plastic surgery unit. I had to have the wound investigated & sutured in theatre. However it still was only done under a local anaesthetic & I was awake throughout. I remember laying on the bed in theatre with silent tears rolling down my cheek. I felt so alone at that moment in time & was really upset that I could do this to myself. I still continued to self harm. Then approached a pivotal time in my life when I did the worst self harm I’ve ever done. There was lots of things going on at the time. The main thing being the attachment I had developed to my cpn & this overwhelming fear of abandonment that seemed to take over me. One night after talking to the crisis team on the phone & being exceptionally triggered by them I took it out very severely on my self. I went to A&E again for what now was a very frequent occurrence. Again I was admitted to the plastic surgery unit. From there I was admitted to psychiatric hospital for the first time, where to cut a long story short I remained for the next 2 years. While in hospital I started to burn myself with cigarettes due to the lack of sharp objects available. Burning is something I’ve never particularly liked doing, it’s always been cutting for me but at the time it was the only option & I still felt this need to hurt myself. Of cause whenever I got my hands on a sharp object I still cut myself, the need has never gone away & just because I was in hospital didn’t stop that need. However while in hospital when I did manage to cut myself it was always superficial & I’d get frustrated that I couldn’t do it properly, after all I’d got so used to inflicting quite serious damage to myself. When I got out of hospital after 2 years I went straight back to what I call “good self harm”. In the 15 months since my discharge from hospital I’ve had many admissions to A&E for self harm. It’s become something I can’t seem to control. After many years of doing it its become the norm of how I deal with things. It’s become so engrained in who I am & how I cope I don’t understand how I’ll ever stop. After years of doing it I have pretty severe scarring to both of my arms. It’s like a constant reminder of all the distress in my life. I often look down at my arms & I feel sad. Why did I do this to myself? How could I do this to myself? The scarring is something I’ll have to live with the rest of my life. As I said earlier I do not recall what lead me to first self harm. I do know why I still do it though, maybe it’s the same reason why I started, I do not know. I just feel the need to punish myself, I feel I am a bad person & I deserve to be damaged. I get angry & I take it out on myself. The deeper the better, the more damage the better. I seem to have this morbid fascination with my own blood too. I love to watch the blood flow from my arm. There’s something exceptionally satisfying with it. A lot of it is driven by this deep self hatred I feel. I feel I cannot escape that & therefore I’ll never escape this self harm. Part of me wants to stop, part of me doesn’t. I admit that quite often I enjoy self harming, I take pleasure from it. Now my arms are so significantly scarred I often think there’s no point in stopping. What’s the point when my arms are already so messed up? There’s no hiding or disguising the scars anymore. The damage is already done. I know this has all been focused on cutting, the form of self harm I prefer but I have also engaged in other forms of self harm. Overdosing, hitting myself & burning. But cutting is what I mostly do, the form I get most release from. I’ll always find one way or another to harm myself. It’s a very sad state of affairs but I just see no escape from it, I’ve been doing it throughout my whole teenage & adult life. I’m not defined by the fact I am a self harmer but it’s very much a part of who I have become


Posted: March 1, 2013 in BPD

Bpd. Borderline personality disorder. What kind of bullshit disorder is that? Is it even a real disorder? Or is it that I just don’t have bpd? I often flip between thinking that i definitely do not have bpd to thinking my thoughts & behaviours are very typically bpd. I just feel its a crap disorder. Maybe it’d be easier to accept & deal with if it was a real illness. It’s not that I want an illness it’s just that if I had a proper illness I could accept it as then I’d really know what abnormality of mind was & how it really felt to psychologically suffer. Bpd is not an illness, it’s a disorder. Or is it even a disorder at all? Or maybe it is & I just don’t have it? I just feel I am an incredibly weak & pathetic person who doesn’t seem to be able to deal with things that most people don’t even feel the need to deal with. Should that be clinicalised, should a label be placed on me for that reason? They say bpd is developed due to experiences as we are growing up & as our personalities are developing. I’d just like to add that I didn’t have a bad childhood & I suffered no trauma in childhood either. To me that says I have no reason to have developed this disorder, if indeed I have it at all. When I was in hospital they taught us the bio social theory of developing personality disorder. That is a biological predisposition to personality disorder but experiences in childhood triggered the onset of the disorder. For one minute lets accept the fact I do have bpd. Then for me it must be that I have a strong biological predisposition to the disorder given the fact nothing out of the ordinary occurred in my childhood. I would say I feel emotions pretty intensely at times & I do recall being somewhat of an emotional child growing up. It does lead me to believe that if there are stronger biological factors in the development of my bpd that there is less chance of recovery. However biological factors lean more towards the illness side of things rather than a disorder. I am not ill & it’s questionable that I have a disorder. It’s not that my brain chemicals are out of sorts or my brain is wired incorrectly giving symptoms of psychosis or mania. That’s illness, an organic cause. It’s more that I have disorganised & I guess disordered thought processes. But then again where do emotions come into this? There’s the thought processes & the emotions. Which comes first? or do they coexist together? Do emotions have a biological root or are they a merely a response to thought processes & patterns? That I do not know, perhaps it’s a mixture of the 2. I guess whatever the cause or the reasons behind it, it doesn’t make it easier to accept. I think I’ll always flip between acceptance & denial. Maybe the denial is another form of invalidation that I inflict upon myself. Invalidation being another key aspect in the theory of developing bpd. Self invalidation is something that’s become quite habitual & something I’ve become quite expert in in the last several years. I guess all I was trying to say was that despite theory & explanations to the cause of bpd it seems to be a poor disorder. Then there is the question of if I even have it at all?

The Scarred One

Posted: February 26, 2013 in BPD, poetry, self harm

A poem I’ve written about self harm

The ScarredOne

I hurt myself today
Sometimes it’s the only way
It’s not because I want to die
To say I do would be a lie
To punish myself I feel the need
So i cut me open & let me bleed
I drag the blade across my skin
An attempt to release the demons within
An open wound fills up with red
A release of all that remains unsaid
Crimson red, a gentle flow
The red it shines, a powerful glow
Enticing, I fixate & my eyes they glare
At the cause of relief from my inner despair
The cut provides relief like no other
But not for long so I do another
And now an addict to this self harm
Hundreds of scars upon my arm
But once the blood has dried & gone
Forever I’ll remain the scarred one