I haven’t written a single thing in so long, it almost feels kind of stupid to write something now. But I’m going to because it’s 2 in the morning and I can’t sleep.

I’ve been going through some stuff lately, things have happened and I dealt with it the only way I know how. Isolation, blah and blah. One of the most important people in the world to me is ill, and my mental health took a stage dive.

I’ve only ever faced grief once in my life, and it was when my friend passed away. This was the woman who took me in and gave me her bed, spoke to me like an adult, gave me a bag of goodies when I spent some time in the psychiatric unit. When she died, I felt it. I’ve had friends pass away before, but this was a person who made an impact on my life in a way words won’t do it justice. But grief is different each time around. I was shocked the first time, but I think this time it will shatter me. It will shatter us all. Most of the time I feel like I’m already grieving her because she’s half the person she used to be. But she’s still here, and I have to remind myself of that. There will come a time for grief, but it’s not today.

My mental health.. sigh. It’s hard to explain isn’t it? How you can feel so much, and the depth of that feeling and put it into words? One minute I was furious, the next I was writing goodbye letters. Then I was happy, then all I wanted to do was bury myself alive because I’d rather suffocate then drown in my demons. And that’s what I was doing. I was drowning, I couldn’t do anything. My blackouts were getting worse, I was dissociating multiple times a day, and each time was different. I had ones where I was being drowned in the bath and that made me afraid of taking a simple shower. I had ones where my friends were doing horrible things to me and I didn’t want to see them. I had ones where my dad was killing me with a smile on his face and it was like every worst fear I had was colliding into one blackout. I was depressed. I had trouble sleeping, I was having nightmares and even though I knew I had people there, I couldn’t talk to them. I couldn’t reach out. I had written out texts, I had stared at phone numbers and I was begging myself to hit send, to press call, but I couldn’t. And when I did, I hated myself for it.

I want to write something uplifting and positive but I don’t want to write about something that I’m not feeling. And I don’t want to write about sadness because no one cares when you’re sad. And that’s the truth isn’t it? Everyone wants to listen about your happiness, but no one wants to listen when you’re sad. So, fuck it. I’m going to write about being sad.

BPD is a maze. You wander aimlessly, each turn brings something new. Maybe you turn and there’s depression waiting for you. Maybe you take a left and there’s rage waiting. Take a right and there’s mania. Walk straight on and there’s suicide. The maze is never-ending, just taking rights and lefts, always wanting to walk straight ahead but you force yourself to make a turn. And you have to carry those emotions with you, the weight of it all making you want to stumble and fall because your knees threaten to buckle. There’s memories with claws wrapped around your ankles, and they threaten to overwhelm you with every step you take. And sometimes the walls start to close in. Your heart beats faster and faster, your breaths sounding louder and louder with every weighted step. Five steps forward, you see a noose. Ten steps forward, you see a bottle of pills and some Jack. Fifteen and you see razor blades. And you so desperately want that happy ever after. You beg for it, you plead with your mind to just stop. Maybe you beg your heart to stop beating just so you won’t be tormented by the sound of it. But one day you realise that happily ever after isn’t the end of all stories. Because we all know that happiness isn’t constant. It’s fleeting, one moment here and the next moment gone.

I debated deleting that bit because I rambled and I think the writer in me came out, but I’m going to leave it in. And I’m going to leave it without a proper ending. Because I don’t like happily ever afters. Sometimes life sucks and sometimes sadness is all we can feel. So, there’s no happily ever after here, there’s simply just an ever after.


Until next time,

Lyndsay x

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