How I developed suicidal thoughts

TRIGGER WARNING - TOPICS OF SELF HARM AND SUICIDE

Before I even start please observe the huge trigger warning above. If you’re someone who struggles with issues around suicide and self harm then make sure you’re in a safe state of mind before you read this. I will be talking in depth about thoughts of ending my life and a few mentions of acting on these thoughts. 

Up until the age of about 11 I had always been an extroverted and happy child. I had plenty of friends and was doing really well at school. There were problems at home, but I don’t think I really understood the full scale of what was going on. My parents were going through a separation and my dad had moved to a place 2 hours away. He always made promises to visit and then would cancel shortly before, leaving me waiting by the window or sometimes even the school gates. My mum was busy looking after my baby brother who had severe asthma and would often have to be rushed to the hospital in the night. A mixture of these things, the onset of puberty and starting secondary school, put an unbelievable amount of pressure on me. I started feeling emotions with an intensity I had never felt before. 

I was utterly confused by this new world of self awareness. I would find myself deeply despairing and anger would bubble up that I simply couldn’t control. My mum and I got into fights on a regular basis. Normally over small things, but the rage would take a hold of me. We’d end up screaming at each other and on a few occasions I physically attacked her; I would also throw things and break them. The once bright and energetic child seemed to morph into a furious monster. A monster that I simply didn’t have the skills to hold back. 

The constant fighting at home became miserable and exhausting for me. I might have gotten through it if school had been a safe space. When I was 12 I started being bullied at school. As a result I lost my original group of friends, they didn’t want to be associated with me in case they became targets as well. I spent my playtime alone in the library or hanging out in the quiet area with the rest of the outcasts. They were friendly, but all had their own issues. One girl often had self inflicted cuts underneath her wristbands. 

With no escape anywhere I was consumed by negative thoughts. Mostly they came out in rage or in my morbid doodles in my school workbooks, which I was teased further for. I found myself trying to hide my emotions, pushing them down until I got to my room where I would cry silently into my pillow. The pressure was becoming far too much and I thought back to the girl with the cuts on her wrists. I don’t really know what drew me to it. Surely causing myself more pain was the opposite of what I needed. I remember creating small scratches on my wrist. There was pain, but in a way it relieved the pressure and gave me the release I needed. I wish I had never discovered that self harm did that. I wish I had been able to find another way. There’s so much focus at secondary school about avoiding drugs and related addictions. There should be more information about better coping mechanisms, because self harming is the most addictive thing I’ve ever taken part in. To this day it’s an addiction I still battle with and that I probably always will. 

I believe that self harm showed me something a normal 12 year old shouldn’t have thought about. I could do damage to myself. I became aware of the fact that I didn’t have to wait to get old or sick to die. I’ve never been religious so all that I could imagine after death was nothingness. Silence at last from a world buzzing with white noise. The idea of suicide was like a whispering promise that there was a way to make everything stop.      

At 13 I took my first overdose. I emptied out as much paracetamol as I could find. I lay down on the sofa and let myself fall asleep. At the time I thought it would be enough. A few hours later I woke up disappointed. It hadn’t worked. I was still in this painful world. The worst part of it was no one ever noticed and I never told anyone. Maybe if my mum had known she could have got me some help. 

I didn’t take another overdose until I was an adult, but the thoughts still haunted me. When life would get hard I contemplated my own death. I was obsessed with dark and macabre things because it made me feel closer to the end. I listened to sad and emotional music and isolated myself away from the world. It was easier just to be on my own and think about how one day I was finally going to kill myself and escape.

UPDATE

I recently planned a post titled “What’s it like to have suicidal thoughts”. I thought it would be helpful to express how these sorts of urges affect my day to day life and to go into detail about exactly how they manifest. However, when I started writing I realised that just talking about the suicidal thoughts isn’t enough. We need to look deeper and start from the very beginning. What exactly led my mind to the conclusion that suicide is an option to consider? In order to do this the post will be broken down into 2 parts. In the first I will explain what I believe led me to start thinking that way and in the second part I will describe what it’s like to live with these thoughts.

Hopefully it will be more helpful that way and people who haven’t experienced it might be able to understand my actions.

Out of Darkness. Xx

Depressive episodes and despair

TRIGGER WARNING - Suicide and self harm references

Depressive episodes are something that have always plagued my life, even though I've not been diagnosed with clinical depression since I was 21 (I’m 26 now). That was a misdiagnosis all because they said I was “too nice” to have BPD; what does that say about the stigma we face? But I digress, the depressive episodes I experience are part of my personality disorder. It’s unlikely that they’ll ever really go away. It’s about learning to cope with them, which I’m well on my way to doing.

Describing one of these episodes of low mood is difficult, especially when you’re on the edge of one, but i’ll try. There’s a feeling before it starts. A sort of sixth sense, not unlike how animals flee a place before a natural disaster occurs. I used to panic when I started feeling this, begging and pleading to unknown influences to not let me go through this torture. I now know it means I maybe have 30 minutes to 2 hours to get myself somewhere I’ll be safe. I tell my partner to put the sharp items and any medications into the locked safe and to make sure I don’t have access to the keys. I try to make myself comfortable and get into pyjamas. I set myself up on the sofa and begin trying to distract myself with TV or games.

Many people describe these lows as a darkness or wave that descends upon them, an external evil. With me it’s as if the dark is bubbling under my skin; coming up from inside of the deepest reaches of my soul. This feeling is as if it’s pouring out of me, filling up all the space and I know that it will eventually drown me.

In the darkness my greatest fears await me. I watch helplessly as my brain replays the most awful moments of my life. I feel the pain of those memories all over again. As I sink further, all the joy that I've ever experienced is distant, as if it happened to someone else. All I know is fear, regret and ultimately despair. My voice tells me that there is nothing I can do about any of it. That my life is meaningless and unless I end it I will suffer forever.  

As the tide swells, so does the pain in my chest. It’s a physical pain that burns and aches. It increases slowly until I’m flailing in desperation looking for a way to stop it. Poor or dangerous coping mechanisms start to look more and more appealing. I become fixated on thoughts of self harm or suicide. Surely anything is better than this right? If there are harmful objects around I know I will be eyeing these up at this point. This is when most of my suicide attempts have occurred. These days I've learned to cope better at crisis point. I let the waves wash over me and do not fight it. Fighting it causes far more pain and extends the episode. I remind myself constantly that the agony will pass and I will return to normal, even if it feels as if I've been in despair for eternity.

The final stage is exhaustion. Heaviness takes over my limbs as if I’ve walked for an entire day. I’m no longer actively suicidal, but grim thoughts haunt me. Telling me how I’m a “failure” and “useless” and how my BPD will always have control of me. Anxiety fills me about the next time I have an episode. I usually have to lay in bed listening to music or watching shows on Netflix. At this time I need support and affection from a loved one and to be brought hot chocolate and nice food, and to wrap me up in a warm, fluffy blanket. In a few hours I’ll be feeling myself again. It’s important that I remember it will happen again, but each time i’ll be stronger.

These depressive episodes take you to a dark place in your mind. However, from it spawns creativity. Some of my best writing and music comes from the deep places in my soul that are hard to reach without being dragged down there kicking and screaming. Many artists find their inspiration in despair and sometimes it can even feel like a bit of a rebirth when you emerge alive. It really teaches you what you can survive.

The first week back and the connections we should be making

Last Friday I had my first day back at work after an almost 3 week break I took for my mental health. I work as a support worker in a secure mental health facility. It’s a very demanding role which keeps me on my toes and requires me to be fully alert at all times. I work long shifts also.

I was so nervous about returning that I spent the day before listless and sobbing. I was feeling the fear of my colleagues and the patients finding out the real reason I had to take time off. I put a lot of effort into wearing the mask of a well put together and stable individual, which feels like a huge lie to me. I was worried the mask would crack and break and that the whole world would be able to see the real me. We live in a society where we can edit the way the world sees us. I mean who really puts all of their life on Facebook? For most of us we only put the interesting or nice parts of our lives out there. How many of us share every intimate detail of our misery for everyone to see? We find other more anonymous platforms for that.

So I turned up for work on my first day back, scared stiff of what people were going to think. I’m not really sure how I got myself so worked up. Most of the staff simply welcomed me back and asked how I was feeling. No prying questions about why I was off and certainly no one knew that I’d been in hospital. The patients were lovely too. Most were simply happy I had returned. We have quite a high turn around of staff due to the stressful environment we work in. Since I started 11 months ago we’ve had countless support workers and nurses come and go. Some of the patients were simply worried that I’d left to go and work somewhere else.

I was fortunately on shift with a nurse in charge that I get on pretty well with. She was the only person that asked me what had happened. She knew I had been in hospital because it was her that answered the phone when my partner had to call in sick for me. I know she has struggled in the past with with her own issues and so I felt a little more comfortable about her knowing the truth. She was shocked when I explained to her I had taken quite a large overdose. We talked for a while about the stresses that lead me down that road. She shared her own experiences with suicidal thoughts. It felt nice not to be alone.

Slightly unrelated, but I had a very in depth chat with another support worker about personality disorders. We both agreed that the way professionals view people with this sort of diagnosis is uninformed and prejudicial. She was really passionate about it and confided in me that she has someone close to her who had Borderline Personality Disorder. I felt connected even though she didn’t know that I suffer with the same condition.

Having these discussions really opened my eyes to the fact that people working in a mental health setting are often closer to the issue than we know. If only we could find more ways of connecting to each other on an emotional level. We could hold one another up and strengthen ourselves in the process. It just goes to show, when you start conversations about mental health the world doesn’t seem so dark.

Every cloud

TRIGGER WARNING - Suicidal ideation and attempt

Recently I found myself having to take time off from work in order to recover from a bit of an ordeal I suffered a couple of weeks ago. Life for me these past few months had been incredibly hard to say the least. Back in May, my partner unfortunately lost his job. He was under an extended probation, which meant the company was able to get rid of him in a week. We soon found ourselves in hot water. I work for the NHS so my pay packet isn’t exactly overflowing. It was never a problem though because we were able to make it work. We live in a rented flat just half an hour on the train from central London. Rental properties in the area are very expensive and most people in their 20s and 30s aren’t able to scrape together the large deposits needed for a mortgage.

We lost 58% of our income in a week. He was sending out applications left, right and centre with no luck and hardly even any replies. It felt like putting applications in bottles and throwing them out to sea. Over the 6 months he got a few interviews where he got through 3 or 4 stages before someone with more experience took the role. The current financial climate and job market really was against us.

As financial stress often does, it put a huge strain on our relationship. My partner was starting to feel depressed and hopeless. We’d argue about nothing because both of us were feeling helpless. I couldn’t do anything to help him get a job and he couldn’t do anything to take the burden of being the sole earner off my shoulders. We had a few savings, but those were depleted quickly. So many things were going wrong with our flat and it felt like people were chasing us for money all the time. We were paying our bills, but suddenly new costs would pop up out of nowhere.

I was going to work in the morning already exhausted with the whole situation. I simply had nothing left to give and any defence strategies I had were failing. I was beginning to dread going into work the next day. It wasn’t much better at home. There was a tension between us that was amplified by my BPD. I avoided talking about the darkness that was starting to envelope me to try and avoid an argument. The pressure and the pain were becoming too much and I started thinking about a quick way out.

Suicidal thoughts are something I would say I experience a few times a month; which is an improvement on what used to be a few times a week. Most of the time I am able to brush them off, push them down and ignore them. For the first time in a long time, I couldn’t. It was too late for me to be able to reach out to anyone. It felt as if the darkness had me, covering my mouth and stifling my cries. I got hold of 2 months worth of my mood stabilisers and laid them out on the bed. I sat there sobbing. I didn’t want to die, not at all. I just wanted the pain to finally be over. It had been a couple of years since my last overdose, I had been getting better slowly. However, there are times that can be unbearable even when you think your life is on track. I took the pills one by one at first, then I was practically choking them back. I couldn’t cope anymore so I would take my life away as a sort of punishment. My partner found me and I was taken to A&E where I was seen by unhappy and unsympathetic nurses and doctors. I remember having blood tests done and then suddenly there was nothing.

I woke up. I had no idea where I was or who I was with. I couldn’t control my body and I was desperately scared. I was searching for my partner I think, but at times he was by my side trying to get me to eat. That day was a blur. Looking back on it I had lost my grasp on reality totally. In my head I knew that it was my fault this was all happening. I prayed that it was all a dream I was going to wake up from.

The next day I could finally communicate again. The reality of it all began to sink in. This was the worst overdose I had ever taken. I could have died. I could have died and I didn’t want to. I want to live my life. I want to be strong enough to overcome the trials that life throws at me. I want to care for the ones I love and have them care about me. I deserve to live.

That was a turning point for me. I am ready now. Ready to recover and ready to live a life that isn’t perfect, but it burns brightly. Sometimes it’s sweet and sometimes it’s bitter. I’m learning that you need that darkness to really feel the light.  

The return to work interview

So as I posted yesterday I had a return to work interview to attend. I had only been signed off work for 2 weeks, but my manager thought it would be a good idea as I work in a very high pressure job with a lot of responsibility. Which I understand, as I need to have my head in the right place so no one gets hurt. I had been in a crisis and things got to a total breaking point. I took the 2 weeks off in order to get my head straight. In a way i’m glad I took the time to recover because this time is what has rekindled my writing hobby, both creative and blogging.  

The actual return to work interview itself was nothing like I thought it was going to be. My fear was that i’d be sat in a room with my manager’s manager and be interrogated about the circumstances that led to me being off. I was frightened that they’d ask why I had been in hospital and question me on my diagnosis. As far as they know I've suffered with anxiety and depressive symptoms for a while now, which isn’t a lie. There’s something about BPD that I don’t expect them to sympathise with. A lot of our patients have personality disorders and sometimes I feel the staff there have some very closed minded opinions. What I've had to learn is that with regards to work you should feel able to share as much or as little as you see fit. Not everyone has to know everything about your life and as long as you’re safe to do your job I can’t see an issue with that.

The lady I saw was really friendly and took me to a private side room. She asked to see my sick certificate and asked how I was doing. She didn’t assume anything and didn’t ask me any questions about my diagnosis. I explained to her how stressed I had been and the financial situation at home. She was really understanding and honestly she just wanted to make sure I was going to be okay. She let me choose when I wanted to return to work. She referred me to occupational health and asked me if there was anything else I needed in order to return. My worries were dispelled so easily and honestly now i’m a lot more positive about returning to work this Friday.

Sometimes our anxieties can get the better of us. They descend on our minds like fog and pour in thoughts of our greatest fears. Fear is paralysing. If I had let it overtake me and gone in there a wreck I imagine the result may have been different. I faced it head on and actually it turned out really well.

Out of Darkness. Xx

UPDATE

I spent most of today sitting at my desk thinking through and planning upcoming blog entries and how I can keep it interesting and informative. I’m feeling confident, but also a little anxious. I don’t want to let it die like the last one. I’ve decided i’m going to try and get at least one reasonable sized piece done in a week. I’m sure i’ll have times when I’m writing more and inevitably times when I go AWOL. I’m hoping to keep that to a minimum though.

I managed to get out of the house to grab a few bits of food shopping. It’s definitely been a productive day even if supermarkets are an anxiety nightmare, especially alone. I’m currently signed off from work and due to have a return to work meeting tomorrow. I’m sure i’ll be giving an update regarding that. It’s not like I've never had one of these meetings before, but it’s the first time in this job. I’d managed to avoid taking any time off since I started in January. Due to circumstances I’m going to write about soon, I was signed off work for 2 weeks by my GP.

Anyway, wish me luck.

Out of Darkness. Xx

What on earth is BPD?

To understand BPD (Borderline personality disorder) you first need to know what a personality disorder is and how affects lives. Our personalities are a combination of characteristics or qualities that form our distinctive character. This influences how we think, act and feel. We create our personalities based off our experiences and the opinions we form about them. A personality disorder is a deeply ingrained and maladaptive pattern of behaviour that causes long term difficulties in the day to day function of that person. This tends to be most notable when interacting with others. BPD is one such disorder.

You might hear mental health professionals referring to BPD in a few different ways. In the UK at the moment it’s often called Emotionally unstable personality disorder or in some other areas Emotional intensity disorder. These are much more descriptive than borderline personality. The word borderline makes it sound as if it’s on the edge and not that bad. There is a reason for the strange naming. A while back it was thought that the condition was on the borderline between psychosis and neurosis. Despite this I still use the term BPD as it’s easier just to stick with the old name; the internet seems to do the same.

Now we’ve briefly covered the definitions let’s get straight into the signs and symptoms of BPD. There’s quite a broad spectrum of criteria you must meet in order to be considered for diagnosis. There are so many symptoms and even then we all experience them in different ways. The following criteria have been provided by NICE, which is a British based institute that gives guidance for health and social care.

• Emotional instability. Lows and highs day in day out. Emotions such as emptiness, despair and anger cycle quickly. The emotions are also extremely intense.
• Difficulty making and maintaining relationships.
• An unstable sense of identity, such as thinking differently about yourself depending on who you are with.
• Taking risks or doing things without thinking about the consequences.
• Self-harm or thoughts of self harm.
• A fear of abandonment or being alone.
• Sometimes experiencing hallucinations or delusions.

If you have 5 or more of these symptoms that have been affecting your life for some time then you may be diagnosed with BPD. At the time I was diagnosed I thought that I met 5 of these, but looking back on it now I met all of them. My life was in ruins and I didn’t even know why until I stumbled across the condition during my years as a student nurse. After that moment everything suddenly made sense.

It took years to get an official diagnosis of BPD, but I knew it was the right call. Let me give you a glimpse of how I experience these symptoms.

• My emotional instability was intolerable for me and my friends. One moment I’d be laughing and being playful, the next I would be sobbing and hiding under my desk. I constantly felt like there was a gaping black hole where my heart should be and the intensity of my feelings lead me to do strange or unhealthy things.

• Relationships were also really hard for me. I only knew how to give my heart and soul or give nothing at all; which could change in an instant. This lead to me having very volatile relationships which were often bordering on abusive from one end.

• I had little sense of who I was and what I really wanted to do. I’m an incredibly ambitious person at times, but my direction can change depending on the people I spend the most time with.

• I used to engage in a lot of risky behaviours including drug taking and binge eating. These and self harm were my maladaptive coping mechanisms.

• As for fears of abandonment, this was one of my most distinctive symptoms. I would do literally anything to stop people from leaving me, even if that meant physically blocking the entrance, refusing to let go or even threatening to hurt myself as a last resort. The fear inside of me was so deep and powerful I thought that if they left my sight I would never see them again and that it would kill me.

• With regards to hallucinations and delusions, these can happen when i’m under a lot of pressure. I sometimes end up with strange thoughts of paranoia or odd fantasies that I have to find someone who has been erased.

My life really was one big exhausting drama back then. If you feel this resonates with experiences you may be going through then it’s always best to seek professional help. Self diagnosis alone is a bad idea because you could easily misdiagnose and if your diagnosis is wrong then the treatment you receive may be wrong too. Get your GP/physician to recommend you to a specialist mental health team for an assessment. It could change your life for the better. I know it has mine.

You can find other information and support on almost any mental health problems through the charity Mind and their website www.mind.org.uk. They’re a really good charity in the UK who do great work surrounding getting people talking and eradicating the stigma people with mental health problems are facing.  

Trigger warnings!

Whilst a lot of the content I will be posting is safe for work, there will be times that in order to fully explain what it’s like to live with a mental health problem I have to talk about subjects some people might find uncomfortable or distressing. I will try to include trigger warnings at the beginning of certain posts.

We all feel vulnerable at times and if you know the subject is potentially going to cause you emotional strain, please, please, please wait until you are in the right frame of mind to read the post. I won’t be editing my life experiences down because I feel they are really important to include and not censor. We have to do enough self censoring in our lives already. Especially when it comes to our work colleagues and acquaintances. This is a place I can speak my truth and feel obliged to put on a mask. Please remember also that my opinions are my own. I don’t speak for any groups or individuals other than myself.

Anyway, enjoy me rambling about things and stay safe.

Hello to older and wiser

Hello again.

My name's Out of darkness. It's important to say before I start anything that I'm not the best of writers so I apologise in advance for what will probably be some appalling grammar. Whilst it's not my forte I do however enjoy it and find it therapeutic.

I had a blog back in 2015/2016 where I talked about a mental health condition I live with called Borderline Personality Disorder. I wrote a fair bit about my experiences and daily life; that was until I started psychotherapy. It pulled the rug out from under my feet and for a while sent me spiralling into an emotional turmoil I had absolutely no idea how to write about. The blog went silent and that was it. I went back to keeping a personal journal, which I barely wrote in despite knowing it would help me. Sometimes mental illness does some interesting things to us.

So here I am popping up 2 years later in 2018. I’m still in psychotherapy, but it’s drawing to a close. At the end of December I will complete my final session with the Complex Needs and Personality Disorder Service. It’s a frightening, but exciting time for me and my family. This next step in my journey to recovery has inspired me once again to start blogging about my experiences.

You can look forward to me sharing my very personal experience of BPD and also hopefully some factual information about the disorder here and there. I hope that this new blog will not only be beneficial to me, but that maybe it might help others dealing with mental health problems or even their friends and family.