Living life on the borderline

A medley of topics.

Posted on: July 20, 2010

A friend from the psychiatric hospital I was in called me earlier – it was so weird to hear somebody say the name of the hospital and ward. They’re doing okay and going to be discharged soon. Some of them have been in there two years or more. I guess I got off lucky, being there only two months despite everything.

I’d’ve never guessed things would end up like this. When I was really young, I wanted to be a doctor or a nurse. I’d practice CPR on my baby doll. I imagined myself studying to be a doctor, helping the kind of people that… that I’ve turned out to be. I didn’t see myself being bullied, abused, attempting suicide, being locked up in hospital.

It makes me sad, but it gives me more resolve to change things in the future. I can’t change the fact I have mental health problems, I can’t change my past either. But I can be one of the people that survive it. I can be a survivor rather than a victim. I don’t want to spend my life in and out of psychiatric units and as far as it is possible for me, I will try not to.

It’s hard trying to turn a list of symptoms into a list of positives. Being emotional can be good – uncontrollable emotions are bad. Self-awareness is good – self-awareness that turns into self-criticising is bad.

Today, I have done not much other than sleep. I have neither energy, nor desire to do anything else. I feel low, but I haven’t had any significant dangerous thoughts, which is a blessing. It’s not being helped by listening to songs that make me inevitably depressed. One of my favourites for this is Colorblind – Counting Crows, which was used in the film Cruel Intentions. The sex scene both depresses me and energetically triggers my urges to destroy myself in equal measure. Ew ew EW LOVE AND SEX AND HAPPINESS CANNOT BE.

I probably shouldn’t listen to it, but sometimes I get in weird moods like this. Colorblind and She Will Be Loved – Maroon 5 will always convince me that jumping off a bridge is the best way forward. I don’t hold out much hope for any kind of love life. Which would be fine, if I didn’t get feelings for people. Well, one person. I’m pretty sure that, however much I don’t want mental illness to be “who I am”, my mentalness will put them off. Or, just, who I am.

Moving swiftly on, I have my last day of work experience tommorow. I’m so going to miss everyone there. Okay, I’m going back next week for a few days, but tommorow is my official last day.

I’ve put SWBL on YouTube, so I guess I’m going to wallow in depressive, suicidal thoughts. Where did the positivity of the opening paragraphs go??

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About the blogger.

I'm an 18 year old girl/woman/person of the female gender who blogs about growing up, living with mental health problems and her experience with the NHS mental health services, both CAMHS and CMHTs. Expect plenty of teenage angst and general craziness. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

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