What a difference a year makes…
Or does it?
Have things changed a lot for me, for you, over the past year?
Where were you this time last year?
Earlier this month I mentioned being concerned about April and how it always seems to bring some of my worst BPD problems, last year was probably the worst ever for that.
Let me tell you where I was this time last year…
*Trigger warning – there is discussion of self-harm and suicidal ideation in this post*
This time last year I was in the midst of possibly the worst ever BPD crisis I have had. I was single, homeless and unable to attend work due to what had happened…
In February my partner had flown off to Afghanistan with the TA leaving me feeling abandoned and stressing over unresolved problems in our relationship. Very quickly I spiralled out of control trying to cope with not being able to sort things out with him being so far away.
Passing through March I was drinking heavily, cutting daily and emailing him about leaving him. I wanted to get my own place and move out of his house because I felt that he did not love me, that I was just a ‘trophy’ girlfriend to him, that he loved a former partner the mother of his youngest child. I had moved in with him leaving my hometown for a place where I knew no-one.
He was due to return home for R&R in April.
As April approached I started going out with a new friend, I hadn’t been ‘out’ since moving out of my home in Birmingham and it felt good to dress up and dance. One night she took me to a town centre pub where we played pool and got talking to some regulars in the pub. One guy seemed especially nice and we were getting along very well. When the pub closed we moved on to a club, it was a warm night so I offered to put the guy’s jacket in my bag so he didn’t have to wear it while we danced. In the club we bumped into his sister and spent a little while chatting with her. We were having a lot of fun. We danced a while and before we knew it the club was closing too.
My friend and I were not ready for the night to end, we wanted to carry on drinking and so we decided to head back to mine, and invited the guys we had spent the evening with to join us, so they did. The drinking continued as we sat chatting in the lounge, the conversation was great. I went into the kitchen to get another drink closely followed by the guy I was with as we continued to talk. Whilst in the kitchen he asked if he could kiss me, which sent a thrill through me, no-one had ever ‘asked’ if they could kiss me before…
Returning to the lounge my friends guy had fallen asleep on the sofa and she was now bored of him and decided to go home. The guy I was with stayed and we discussed what to do about the sleeping bloke. I fetched a blanket to pop over him, thinking it best just to leave him there to sleep and my guy asked if I had another blanket so he could sleep on the other sofa. Boldly I said it was okay he didn’t have to sleep on the sofa. So we went up to my room…
It was a long time before we got to sleep, he was such a gentleman and made me feel like I had never felt before.
The next morning the other guy had left when I went downstairs. My guy woke up and upon using the bathroom declared there was a lot of men’s toiletries in there – in all our conversation the night before I had neglected to mention my absent partner. I was struck dumb unable to find the words to explain to him, he left quickly.
After this my emails to my partner became less frequent and more full of my beliefs that our relationship was doomed. My crisis grew worse, but I failed to recognise what was happening. I threw myself into my new job, all I did was work then go to the pub, I was barely eating, barely sleeping, drinking heavier and hoping to see this guy again and explain myself to him. The following week I took my best mate to the pub and slept with a different guy. I was a disgrace.
Then the day was coming that my partner was due home. I couldn’t handle it, I didn’t want to be there when he returned, I wanted to die.
I sat in the hot tub the night before he was due back, it was a Wednesday night, I downed a litre bottle of amaretto with 45 tramadol tablets and crawled into bed, hoping not to wake up I slipped into unconsciousness. Late the next day I came to hardly able to move as I struggled to get to the bathroom where I passed out again. At some point my partner returned home, but it barely registered as I slipped in and out of consciousness. On the odd occasion I came round, at first he was being loving and looking after me, unaware of why I was so unwell.
Later he was angry, he was packing my clothes in a suitcase. I had no idea what he was saying to me, I just wished I would hurry up and die. At some point he discovered the tablet packets and empty bottle by the hot tub. He went through my phone and laptop to discover what had been happening.
On the Friday morning I came too again and crawled into the garden to have a cigarette, where I promptly collapsed again. My partner was raging at me, but still I could not make any sense of what he was saying. When he bought me a glass or water I smashed the glass on the floor and tried to cut my wrist with the broken pieces, but I had not strength in me at all and just collapsed again. At this point my partner picked me up and took me to A&E.
I was put on a drip and monitored while they got the Mental Health Liaison team to come and see me. I was now also homeless…
Later I left the hospital and returned to my partners house to collect some belongings, when I refused to leave having no where to go he got the police to come and make me leave.
I went to my best friends house and spent the next few days sleeping on her sofa while I tried to find somewhere to live. the council refused to help me, not even providing emergency accommodation for me and my children. In the end I checked myself into a hotel, my daughter went to stay with a friend and my son went to stay with my dad.
My ex-partner started coming to see me at the hotel. I wanted to work things out, I couldn’t move back in but he wanted to help me, but he was going back to Afghanistan in a few days…
I spent all my time drunk, in the pub from opening till closing, I cut off my hair – literally, I hacked at my long hair leaving barely an inch of hair over my head; and using the scissors I had just chopped my hair with I slashed my arms and legs terrifically. I still wanted to die but my partner and best friend made sure to remove all sharp objects and all medication and constantly checked that I had neither accessible to me. I made plans to crash my car, to jump off a bridge onto the highway and other ideas to take my life that kept spinning around me, each time someone interfered preventing it from happening.
April ended with me in this state, my future looked bleak. I was homeless, signed-off work, in a horrendous BPD crisis and alone. Was there any way out of this mess?
- A BPD extreme cry for help – Rage, Anger, Splitting and Panic (or Getting into a pub brawl and a night in the police cells) (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Changing Self Image – Hair, Fashion,Tattoo’s and piercings – A BPD perspective. (showard76.wordpress.com)
- ROW80 Check in – Explaining the one I missed, or a BPD crisis in progress and what happens if you smoke marijuana by mistake (showard76.wordpress.com)
- You know you’re a Borderline when… – 10 signs you have BPD (showard76.wordpress.com)
- BPD Black and White Thinking and Don’t take my phone! (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Dissecting My BPD and Suicidal Urges (showard76.wordpress.com)
- What happens when a person with BPD ends a relationship (showard76.wordpress.com)
- Unstable Moods in Borderline Personality Disorder (showard76.wordpress.com)