Posts Tagged ‘survival’

…Is the knowing that there is no cure , no medication, nor merely a bandaid to put over my furiously rampant monster of illnesses.

I’ve gotten to this point , slowly but steadily. A bumpy and painful decent.

Despair doesn’t always come across in conversation, but it does sit on the back burner in view.

Reading a memoir of journal entries by a courageous man with borderline personality , addiction issues, and major depression is comforting , yet it also triggers the thought that yes, I may struggle for the rest of my life.

In addition, I have a handful more that I’m lucky enough to call part of me, so I’m definitely a goner. Right ?

I am not one to count my illnesses as if it’s a game or a competition, but I can’t help but think .. “I have double the diagnosis as this poor guy. “How am I still alive? ”

And what for? To shun all my friends only to share seemingly random pictures and blogs?

To create some art that stems from the abstract and unusual thinking of my broken mind ?

Well, I guess for now it’s something.

I’ve begun recording every day-my thoughts, emotions, situations, successes and also failures.

I have a recorder on my phone , plenty of space on both of my cameras to make videos ,two ongoing journals ( one for my mental illnesses, and one to record tarot readings of my own and of other readers )

Is my purpose simply to show that one can survive excruciating agony and still be in awe of a new leaf on a plant I started from seed? Or to deeply enjoy such things as a birds song , or the thriving vegan movement I’ve been cheering for for 3 years ?

There is such a dichotomy to my mind. Such confusion and different choices to make over a seemingly mundane tasks. Like, which side of the table should this plant go on?

My illnesses can seem to melt together and actually become me , speak for me , BE me -or , I can sometimes find a slight hole to peek out from and shine for a moment or two.

But one thing is for sure , I never , ever have a full day of consistent mood , thoughts, or actions. I just don’t grasp what that’s like , sadly.

( later that day..)

As I slammed my door with tears streaming from the echoes of my doctors subtle yet clear voice to use what I have learned to ” cope”, the thoughts of driving into the river , or screaming for help in the middle of a parking lot appeared as if they’d been next in line anyway.

I refuted these impulses and grabbed my go to medicine. “Harm reduction”, I thought to myself , well knowing I was lying .

I came home and shut myself in, turned on my go-to , depressing Radiohead station, and with a haunting familiarity, lay motionless on my bed as if to mimic being in the coffin I already felt that I was in.

But then, almost to my chagrin, I decided to think of how loved ones may perceive this. Probably with worry. No, most definitely.

Dbt decided to come into play without my permission, but I granted it just to see…

Then, my day turned around.

Maybe there is hope. Strategy , a distraction strong enough to grab my spinning emotions and have them spill out until it’s just me and my core feeling. Ready to grasp onto even the tiniest of spoken belief that there is always hope.

All this to say, if one person who you love and loves you -despite what you perceive as your innate ” flaws”, can see through the fog to a beautifully talented , inspiring and not so difficult to be around source of joy , then – maybe there is reason to stick around til the crowds clear and everyone is gone. What’s the harm ?

Having cleansed my overflowing volcano of of a heart with tears attached to many different emotions , I feel at ease. Dare I say , content.

What a phenomenon . Maybe I wouldn’t be so lucky if dealt another’s hand. Okay, that’s enough positivity for one blog.

Remember to send love, and kindness if only through your energy to those who need it. You really never know how much they may be on the edge and that love could be the hand that helps them down.


Note : I will edit this tomorrow, so I apologize to the sticklers for any spelling or grammatical errors.


A match made in hell.

7-10 days out of every month where you lose yourself to your hormones , your weaknesses , cry over spilled (nut)milk, feel like you are coming down with every illness , fatigued, brain fog, irritable, likely to lash out , not likely to stay in wise mind , likely to self medicate ( to the point of accidental OD) simply from someone you cared for stabbing you in the heart with one sentence , complete loss of control you felt just days ago, worsening on all your mental illnesses, body aches , pains, headaches,cramping,excessive binging ,weepiness, and more.

As if we with bpd and co morbid illnesses need a guarantee every month to be thrown into constant tests of strength , fight for ownership over our mind and body, and loss of motivation.

This is the week that I’m likely to spiral and have dramatic sudden breakdowns and failures. I’m never prepared. And I’m always fearful.

Sometimes complete solitude and fetal position are required as the clock ticks waiting for day one of my cycle to begin.

Love to other women who suffer immensely due to their hormones, PMS and PMDD plus mental illness.

I understand.


What a gorgeous day all around. I woke with the sunrise (455), got up, sat outside with my garden and incense , and began improving my vegetable garden.

I felt good. No need to mood boosters or the fight to destroy mood drops. It’s actually easier than taking a pill. If you focus hard enough on your goals and what you love, you can escape the trap of chaos and begin to step into your power

I did a tarot reading, with a high spirit and glee. Funny enough, my cards reflected ending my old way of life, and following my new path to happiness. A complete change is just what I needed.

With this change , which began on the full moon May 29th, I felt a strong need to be assertive and stand my ground with people like my old landlord ( long story), or people who have kept me wrapped up in anxiety and disrespecting me . Leo’s aren’t fond of that. I’m not fond of things that are morally wrong ( not at all saying I haven’t gone down that path), and just bask in the guidance that I’ve been given the gift of feeling with my entire self.

I spent a lot of time with my parents , and really using my dbt without noticing , except for that there have been zero fights since I moved back closer to them. I cherish my family. I CAN move past my upbringing.

I know my strengths , and I will use them, without the noise of doubt or repeating old cycles.

I really feel like I have gained self respect, and let go of ideals and things that I once held dear.

It really is a huge shift and the universe is propelling me into my next chapter. I hope I remember this feeling tomorrow.

I can only hope my upcoming PMDD won’t suck me back into the pits and darkness of my mental illnesses.

However , I’ve done it a thousand times and survived. So, I will be confident that I will again.

Thanks for reading ,

Your borderline gal,


Over time , I’ve become a stranger to myself. Every day, is a brand new life. I remember what I have to do, I remember what I own , my friends , etc – but what I don’t know is how I’m going to be, or…when I will be that way…

A year ago ,I wouldn’t have said this.

I was running 3 YouTube channels and answering every comment.

I was working , without any personal life issues melting into my professional life. That’s not the case these days. I contemplate hospitalization and suicide more than ever.

1-2 years ago I was doing private readings all weekend.

I pretty much knew my routine , knew a lot.

I didn’t realize how stable I was, until now. And I thought I had it bad then. Is this my fate? My fault? The lack of psychiatric care?

I’m unrecognizable. I’ve lost all sense of self. I change sometimes from minute to minute. My addictions , obsessions , compulsions and disorders mould one massive ghost hanging over me, releasing parts of itself at random.

I have to deal. I have to survive what’s thrown at me. All the whole remaining a friendly face to the world. Remembering who I am to them.

Right now, I don’t trust anyone. I don’t even trust my own feelings. My behaviour since being brutally attacked and bullied and abused over the last few years has done something permanent to me.

Especially since November 17′. I’ve spiralled frequently.

I take dangerous amounts of downers without a second thought. I drift through the day floating on empty and going through the motions of the life I vaguely remember my plan for.

Sometimes I click in. Ahh, there I am. I’m funny , I’m creative and have brilliant plans for the future. If I could take a video of those moments and watch them days later , it would be like watching a distant twin speaking another language.

I worry often that I’m suffering from more than my 5 diagnosis.

I worry that 8 medications is criminal. I worry about worrying.

I apparently binge eat now. I just… don’t care. Days like this I dissociate and enjoy not feeling like this is my life.

I don’t know what else to do to make it. But every morning I wake up, and I take on the fucking challenge.


Always reminding myself when I have days upon days of anxiety, depression, massive adhd and ocd challenges , and of course – borderline moods and everything that comes at random in the lovely package deal, that I KNOW… this too shall pass. No feeling is final.

After 35 years, when I am in the depths of mental hell, I still cannot believe my own attempt at self comfort. I feel like I am and always have been stuck in the exact feeling I am in. But that’s not true. Why can’t I KNOW, it will come up again. I’ll regain clarity, motivation, joy.

It’s such a bizarre and messed up mental catastrophe , which seems different yet so similar each time – and no matter what people I love reassure me of , I just deeply do not , and I mean outright refuse to consider.

Now that I am back to ” myself ” , I don’t even remember those 4 straight days of anguish and pain.

I suppose there are two sides to every coin. This selective amnesia can actually be of help. I don’t WANT to remember yesterday’s pain. I’m actually forced into mindfulness by squeezing every last drop of good that is my current yet fleeting existence while it lasts.

How long? Only my mind can decide. Or can I? The quest is never ending. But I’m still here. I’m still here.



BPD is so emotionally exhausting. Our bodies cycle through extremes all the time.

After last nights childhood trigger , breakdown, and coping , I got 7 hours of sleep yet feel so blah.

However ,I’m finding that when I’m depleted of my usual ADHD hyper super productive yet constantly challenging mornings, I am less likely to react , and more likely to be wiser, less moody, etc.

I am determined to overcome this incredibly draining illness. I have faith. Always. ๐Ÿ’ช๐Ÿป๐Ÿ’–

” This Too Shall Pass”

” No feeling is final ”

Words to live by.


This was sent to me late last night by an angel of a friend across the world. Validation, and comfort in one picture. ๐Ÿ˜‡๐ŸŒŸ๐ŸŒ™๐Ÿ™

Consistent Chaos

Posted: May 17, 2018 in Addiction, BPD, Pain
Tags: , , , , ,

Why must every day meet me with a minfield ofย ย triggers that I canโ€™t see until they explode in my face and send me to deep places of shame, hate, resentful, tears and pain.

Just one normal day. A semblance even. Maybe Iโ€™m the problem. It canโ€™t always be everyone else.


Dbt can wait. I wish to stay in this misery, only if for one more nights.


#bpd #borderlinelife#triggers#perpetualchaos

A thought is just a thought.
But when you say it , it becomes real.

I am not happy or proud of where I am today.
I am proud of myself for enduring and rising above serious pain and mental illness, for sure – but I don’t choose these afflictions. All the times I have felt that I had no hope left , I always found the flickering light ;a single burning ember to make a flame again.

I have no money. I have no debt, but I have no money. I live beyond my means sometimes – because I want to be able to eat the food I like , and drive a reliable car. My apartment is tiny , but I live alone because I am very introverted and private.

I am a drug addict – I think we have covered this aspect of my life thoroughly.

I can’t say that I never saw it coming. I’ve always had the ” addictive personality “.
My family saw it coming as well, since I am mentally unstable , and I could be generalizing here , but I’m sure that there is a line drawn between the two. A strong connection, at least.

I’m single at age 30.
I’ve had three long term relationships , but all have failed , largely due to my mental illness. My bpd in particular. The depression also tends to wear people down. I can get pretty crazy, possessive ,and untrusting. My whole world becomes about my partner.

Being borderline , I don’t feel like I have an identity without someone in my life. I’ve never been someone who has a lot of hobbies and enjoys being on to go and planning things to do all of the time , so this probably makes me seem more frightening to my boyfriends when I just kinda wait around for them to be available. I am always ready to hang out. I get attached quickly. I always try to change the person I’m with, to get then to see more like I see, to be an obsessively clean person , to be as emotional as I am , to be a mind reader and just know what I want them to say and do. I guess I’m never satisfied.
I’m Always bored. I now see the relationship between between my addictions and my lovers.
Always wanting more. Searching for something or someone to fill this empty space inside me.
I don’t know that I will ever find someone right for me. I keep going back to the one that still comes back to me.
How could I be confident when meeting someone new ,when I have this full time job of looking after myself.
There is a childishness to me , and I think I’m attracted to emotionally unavailable men.
My father was not always around when I grew up.
From a young age , he was always on the road for business , and I am not entirely sure that he wanted kids , especially girls. He had two.
When he was in the mood, he was great with us. He took care his girls.
But overall, my mother raised us. Stay at home mom. She still stays at home , in her little OCD world of strict , to -the -minute routines , and narrow view of the world.
I feel resentment towards her for passing along the OCD gene /learned behaviour , as I try to fight my way out of my own restricted , obsessive thought patterns.

I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. I have hemmed and hawed over the question so many times and come up with absolutely nothing feasible.
After finishing high school, I spent years not working , being depressed, and playing video games in my room.
I always felt that I had tons of time to figure it all out.
I started my own housekeeping business at 21. I still have that business.
Sounds better than it is. I don’t have employees or even a business card.
I just have customers here and there that I make a few bucks from.
I did it full time until I got tired of it and started working at a health food store to learn something new.
After studying the field for a while , and going through the whole ” everything is bad for you- eat this 8$ loaf of gluten free bread and take these $50 vitamins ” stage , I grew tired of it and quit .
My chronic pain was at and all time high , and I simply couldn’t be on my feet for that long anymore.
I dropped down to just cleaning part time , and applied for disability. I got denied twice , and have recently reapplied. I am more hopeful and confident this time , having all of the supporting evidence for my illnesses that I lacked in my first application.

It’s been terribly hard financially ever since. I’ve had to rely on my wealthy father and the government for about a year now.

So overall- I am single , broke , and broken.

I am desperate for a positive change to catapult me in the right direction.

I have a gardening service that I started last year that did pretty well. That will start up in a month or so- and I’m looking forward to it – although I fear that my physical pain will be limiting.

I wish I didn’t have to go it alone .
I thought I had found Mr. Right, but that was just one more disappointment in my life . It’s really unfortunate , because we had begun setting up our future, and still love each other to death.

It takes everything I have , every single day, not to focus on this long list of cons in my life.
It could always be worse I suppose.

In the meantime , while I wait for a miracle , I will take another pill and banish the thoughts that tend to pull me under the waves and try to drown me.

At least I have an extremely loving family with whom I am very close to and owe the world to. There is always something to be grateful for.