(POSSIBLE TRIGGER WARNING, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)
Today I want to talk about something that’s very close to me, and is a huge part of my disorder.
Some people don’t know what that means and can be very hard to wrap your head around so let’s do a quick run down. Dissociation represents a disconnect from a person’s thoughts, emotions, behaviours, memories, and identity. For me, it’s like I go to a dark corner in my mind, and I shut the door on everything. I don’t feel anything, I don’t remember anything, and I don’t exist at all. Now, there are different types of dissociation. These are..
Depersonalisation –Depersonalisation is a feeling of separation from yourself and your body. People who experience depersonalisation may say that they feel like they are observing their own body from the outside, or as if they are in a dream.
Derealisation – Derealisation is similar to depersonalisation, but it is a feeling of being detached from the external world, such as other people or things. Derealisation may cause familiar things to look strange, unreal, or unfamiliar.
Amnesia – Some people who experience dissociation have periods of amnesia or “losing time.” They have minutes to hours or days when they were awake but cannot remember where they were or what they were doing.
Identity Confusion – This occurs when a person experiences an inner struggle about who they really are, their identity, so to speak.
Identity Alteration – Identity alteration means that a person senses that they act like a different people some of the time. For instance, she may see things in her home that she does not recognise, person a skill that she does not remember learning, or others will say she is acting like a different person.
This is the article where I got these descriptions from. It’s a good read and if you want to learn more about it, you should check it out.
I suffer from blackouts every day. This is a normal occurrence in my world. Sometimes the last thing I remember is getting into bed, and the next thing I know is I’m outside on some street at 4 in the morning in nothing but my pyjamas. It happens everyday and most of the time, it’s never the same. I can never remember what happens during this, it’s like my memory has somehow been wiped for that period of time. But there is a certain type of blackout that I want to talk about today.
In the early hours of Tuesday morning, I woke up from a blackout surrounded by empty pill packets. Paracetamol to be exact. I counted the empty pockets and found 28 missing tablets. I recognised the signs straight away and I rang 111 and told them I had overdosed with 28 tablets of Paracetamol and an ambulance was sent out. I have no memory of buying these tablets, or taking them but I did. After the phone call, I went into another blackout straight away, and when I woke up I saw that I had cut my face with a razor. There were cuts down my cheeks, chin, and forehead. I cleaned them up the best I could at the time and went to sit downstairs to wait for the ambulance. And then I was admitted to the hospital where I spent the next 30 something hours getting my system flushed to try and stop the overdose from doing any damage. This wasn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. I’ve had blackouts where I’ve overdosed on Tramadol, Paracetamol and Ibuprofen. They have caused damage to my heart, to my liver, and my kidneys. The tramadol caused me to have a minor heart attack, and I mean minor, but still.
I have no memory of this happening, I just remember having to deal with the aftermath of it all. I remember waking up to find empty pill packets and being furious, and being terrified. I’m terrified that one day I’ll be too late to do anything about it. I’m furious because people stare at my face and I can see the disgust on their faces as I walk past. I’m scared because some of my family members can’t bare to look at me. I’m furious because I have no control over my own body. I’m scared because one day I’ll blackout and I’ll be dead and I can’t do a damn thing to stop it. I’m in therapy, I’m on medication, and I’m doing everything I can to prevent this from happening in the future but this is my reality. This is my life and I have to live with the consequences even though I don’t remember my actions.
And listen, I know this hard on the people closest to me. Seeing their friend, their daughter in the hospital, can be terrifying. You can be angry at it, you can be angry at anything but for god sake, do not be angry at me. I don’t deserve that anger. I am the only person who is allowed to be angry at myself because it is my body I am harming, it is my body I am mutilating. So, like my t-shirt says, Don’t be a dick. Just don’t. Talk to me about it. Ask me questions. Just don’t come at me with anger in your eyes.
I had no idea what I wanted to say about this, except just don’t be an asshole to someone who is suffering more than you could ever know. If they are willing, talk to them about it. Listen to them, let them listen to you, just don’t be dicks about something you have no idea about. Being a borderline is hard, dealing with what comes being a borderline is hard, don’t make it any harder.
The picture below is something to think about. The picture on the left is me on Sunday at a gig with one of my friends. And the right is when I was released from hospital. See how much can change in a couple of days? Be kind to people. Listen to them. Don’t be dicks.