Diary entry: May 2009

It’s a hard question for me to answer. How do you feel? I don’t actually know for certain. I can experience a number of feelings in a short space of time – anger, happiness, euphoria, suicidal, but mostly I feel helpless and bored.

At this exact moment I feel like absolute shit. I feel angry, sad, tired and helpless. I want to punch the walls until the pain in my hands becomes so severe that I pass out. The day started normally enough and I was okay for most of it. I got out of bed around 9am (Bank Holiday sleep in) feeling a bit blue, but I am blaming that on the amount of brandy I drank last night just for the sake of it. By 9:15am I was dressed in my running gear and leaving the front door for a run. I so need to exercise. I am getting so fat. I can’t believe I never realised how fat I really am. I always thought my weight was fine, but now I notice that it isn’t. I keep telling myself I am being self-critical as I am ‘ill,’ but that does not work. I have tried to eat less the last couple of days and go hungry as long as I can. It doesn’t work; I eat when I am bored and my appetite fluctuates the rest of the time. My run went okay but due to my crap fitness levels I actually walked most of the route. I came home, showered and finished reading ‘Little Girl Lost,’ by Lovisa Pahlson-Moller, a sufferer of Borderline Personality Disorder.

My friend Sarah picked me up from my house at about 1pm. We went to Northallerton for a coffee and a talk. I discussed with her how I am feeling; constantly masculine, angry, confused, fat, bored and desperate. I’m fed up of being bored and feeling like this. I am bored of being bored. I am struggling to keep fighting. Even when I have good days I am upset, as I know I am not well enough for them to last.

I have not seen Maggie, my therapist, in over a week and I really need to see her, despite hating my dependency on therapy. Sarah and I discussed the fear of being ‘found out.’ People who I know are soon going to figure out that I am a fucking nutter or that I am really stupid and good for nothing. I feel so close to madness right now it’s unbelievable. It’s like I am waiting for the ‘voices’ to appear in my head and for the men in white coats to cart me off to some loony bin. Deep down wish I were crazy. I would not know that I am different and I could be locked up and stop hurting all my loved ones, in particular my boyfriend, Greg, and my parents.

I would love to stay in a psychiatric ward for a month or so, just enough time to have a rest, but keep my grip on reality. Imagine, no responsibility and no guilt. But that is not a possibility, as I will lose my job. Equal opportunities my arse. Break my arms and I receive flowers from the office. Yet an episode of feeling desperate and declared incompetent and I receive a P45. Never mind the fact that I understand emotional pain, the same emotional pain that drives so many to crime and anti-social behaviour. I use this experience every day as a Youth Probation Officer.

Sometimes I question whether I even want to get better, to conform to ‘boring’ ‘conventional’ society. I am guessing that may be my wee borderline trait talking. I confessed to Sarah that sometimes I ‘think’ I see things that are not there. For example, an injured person on the street, even though I am quite confident there is nothing there. This is very hard to hide when with friends. I think I see something and then reason with myself that it was just a mistake. Then some little internal voice puts doubt in my mind, I fight the voice and get upset because I shouldn’t be thinking like that. I then go into my head and it looks to others as if I am daydreaming, when really I just want to scream. I have to concentrate to ‘stay with it’ and then get pissed off when others interrupt my train of thought.