My Mind & Meg

Get in loser #hellooctober Motivational Quote/Self Care

So, I started therapy a month ago and thought as usual I'd share this new journey with you guys, it's a bit of a long rambly post but it's honest and from the heart, so hope you stick through it with me.

I've been waiting a long time to finally get some and after meeting with a psychologist who assessed me and my needs, decided to give me some one to one sessions to do some DBT (dialectical behavioural therapy) which is essentially a talking therapy based around cognitive behavioural therapy or CBT, but tweaked to better fit the needs of those with emotional dysregulation - such as bpd sufferers.

I've been to four sessions now and my feelings are, underwhelming.

It would be unreasonable of me to assume there would be some a large change in my mental health after four sessions, yet I can't help but feel somewhat deflated. Am I missing out on the big trick of therapy? Shouldn't things be getting better yet? I don't quite know what I was expecting to come of it or what I was expecting to feel, but it just wasn't this.

I've never really done any therapy throughout my mental health struggles, I dabbled in some talking therapies for my anorexia and OCD tendencies as a child - and that seemed to have worked well as I no longer suffer with either of these.

Yet, I can't remember feeling a sense of "Wow, this is totally for me", and never really have felt that about the minimal psychological help I've been offered over the years.

Many people initially seek help for their mental health and may assume that counselling is where they'll start. That's not always the case. Waiting lists can be up to a year long in areas like mine for something as basic as a talking therapy or a group therapy.

Frequently, medication is likely to be offered in the first instance, to see if that eases the symptoms.

When it comes to disorders like bpd, bipolar etc, full psychological therapies are the only thing that will make some significant difference in your struggles, but finding it readily accessible is still so difficult nationwide.

The main thing I've gained from my therapy is discussing and practicing the STOPP method for my anxieties and paranoia, but I'm yet to properly be able to implement it into my episodes. For now, I'm completing forms after an episode has passed, allowing me to reflect on what happened, so I can try and use these skills during the next episode.

I'll go into the STOPP method fully in another blog post, but a brief summary is using reason and logic to debunk paranoid and anxious thoughts, and using facts and evidence to notice what's happening and why.

At my last session, I was told that the whole point of me attending these sessions was to boost my confidence enough to attend the group therapy that I have gotten half way through on two occasions then not turned up to the final session because, in all honesty, I hated it and thought it was ridiculous. This to me was just a whole amount of shit, and I was sat with the feelings of sadness and hopelessness I'm usually filled with when I attend Ferham Clinic for my mental health appointments. I just felt as though this whole trying out therapy was stupid and pointless, like i was wholly wasting my time.

You see, as someone with BPD, I am not treatment resistive. but more treatment sceptic. I fail to understand how anyone can make me feel any better about having to live with an illness that makes me want to put my head into a brick wall hourly. I know when I'm being reasonable that many people find dbt and cbt extremely helpful for their BPD and find that over the years their symptoms reduce enough to no longer warrant a diagnosis, but to me it just feels like, maybe, it just won't work for me like it does for them.

This is all well and good thinking "okay, well this isn't for me" but when it's about your mental health and it was already your last chance saloon, this can make you feel incredibly hopeless for your future well-being. It's okay to try things and realise they aren't for you, but then you have the "okay, what next" aspect, and for me, there is nothing next to come. I've been on medication for 7 years now and my struggles have only intensified with age, symptoms an ever growing list and miseries high. So what do I do now?

I'm not sure even I have the answers this time. But I guess what I'm trying to say is, if you're just starting out with therapy or you're quite a bit in and finding it unhelpful, that's okay. It takes a lot of time and I know that, and know realistically I have all the time in the world to focus on myself and keep making myself better, but in my mind I feel like a ticking time bomb. I'm definitely going to keep going with the therapy, and see how I get on, but I wanted to talk about my counselling journey after waiting so long for it and there's no point not being honest about how it's going and painting a false rosy picture of what's going on.

So yeah, any thoughts or advise please feel free to pop a comment below or get in touch with me, I'd love to hear your therapy stories and what you found was good for you and what not so much.

Meg x

So This week is Eating Disorder Awareness Week, and I didn’t want to not honour the week with a post as it is something close to my heart. This years theme is “Come As You Are - Hindsight is 20/20” and I often reflect on how my journey started with anorexia. I’ve written a few posts now highlighting my troubles with disordered eating as a child, the first one being last years mental health awareness weeks post which focused on body image, you can read my post on that here. I also wrote the post The Lifelong Recovery Of Anorexia talking about how my struggles with anorexia changed my life, and how they still affect me now.

And it’s true, anorexia has affected me for a big part of my life. I was diagnosed with anorexia nervosa aged 12, plagued with thoughts that I was obese, that I was ugly and fat and worthless. I couldn’t look in the mirror without being filled with hatred and self loathing. It’s almost 10 years on from the beginning of my mental health journey as I reflect on how I’ve changed and grown, one thing that sticks is how I feel about my body and the way I look. I'm still often filled with self loathing, hatred and paranoia towards my appearance, and try to mask this in various ways, baggy clothes, bright hair, tattoos etc.

But I have changed in many ways too, I no longer restrict my eating, I don’t avoid lunch times, I don’t stop myself from having a treat, I don’t self harm when I do eat or when I feel hatred towards my body and purposely cause myself harm to feel better. I don’t exclusively eat cheese slices and digestive biscuits to fulfill my daily intake of food. I don’t cry myself to sleep ignoring all those pangs of hunger and the pain I’m filled with.

But I do carry the guilt I used to hold onto so dearly. I eat a meal, even treat myself to a dessert and my inner voice goes “.. but should you have done that?” “Do you deserve to eat?” “You’ve had enough, you’ll only get fatter” and it’s a voice I don’t think I’ll ever be able to quieten. A voice that I have carried with me throughout my years of recovery, that I have fought so hard to overcome and ignore. But it will always be there, the voice of my old toxic enemy Ana.

I once considered Ana to be my friend, my companion, the voice of reason I so desperately needed to hear. When I’d throw away my food or restrict my diet I’d get a “well done” or “you did the right thing, you’ll weigh less the next time” “you know you didn’t deserve it anyway” and feel a sense of pride, that I was stronger than the gargles coming from within me. That if I could withstand my hunger and need for food I was strong inside, I was worthy of looking in the mirror and I was worthy of my anorexia diagnosis. For me it wasn’t a diagnosis, it was a badge of honour, I’d lost enough weight, I was thin enough and I was finally beautiful.

But that wasn’t true. I was unwell, poorly and my body wasn’t what it needed to be. I was tired, dizzy, having panic attacks over food and meal times, filled with anxiety about how I would get out of the next meal. My every thought was food and how to lose weight. I would sit in class, a tiny year 8 child, thinking about how many hours I could work out on my wii fit to work off the morsel of food I’d eaten that day. No child should think like that. No person should think like that.

It's frequently misconceived that to be diagnosed, to struggle with anorexia, you must look the part. You must be extremely slim and have your bones visible, your skin mottled and your hair and nails weak. You must look sick enough to be your diagnosis.

But this isn't the case. For me, to begin with, it was largely an internal thought process for someone who didn't understand the consequences of her actions or ultimately, illness. It's not to say that eventually, having fallen into this downward spiral, looking the part may then become an attribute of the illness. But it certainly doesn't define the illness.

My true reflection of my eating disorder is that it may have been the start of my mental health journey but sadly it also wasn’t the end, I was then diagnosed with depression, anxiety and finally borderline personality disorder. My childhood was filled with therapists, consultants, psychiatrists and diagnoses. But my eating disorder taught me I am strong, not because I can skip a meal and be “okay” but because I can overcome something and someone that was my entire life, my entire being and my entire thoughts. I can ignore Ana, I can be stronger than her and what she whispers into my ear as she sits heavily on my shoulders, and I can be well again.

Meg x

It's not a secret that mental illnesses come with stigma, many of them more than others. Borderline personality disorder is unfortunately one of them, something that isn't well recognised in the first place and when it is it is also often demonised and seen in a very negative light and the positives aren't always seen - although if you want to find out some positives off the bat check out my post on the 13 positives of BPD.

When I was staying in a crisis centre and waiting for a formal diagnosis of BPD, I was told of how I "wouldn't want to have a diagnosis of a personality disorder" because of how stigmatised the condition is, and 2 years after my diagnosis I'm completely understanding the person's reasoning's behind saying this to me. When people hear the words "personality disorder" they are often confused and wonder what this entails, often confusing other conditions like dissassociative identity disorder or "split personality" and things like schizophrenia, thinking that it means you may hear voices, or that you have multiple personalities inside of you, when infact BPD is a complex and serious disorder that affects emotional regulation, relationships, and basically your ability to cope with the tiniest of things. (for a less shit and more in depth explanation of BPD check out my Borderline Personality Disorder Awareness post)

Common Stigmas

1. Crazy and dangerous

a lot of people wrongly assume people with BPD are "crazy" due to episodes of hyper-mania that quickly dissipate into depression. What actually happens in people with BPD is we have erratic mood swings and struggle to regulate our emotions so this can lead to swinging from being elated and happy to being depressed and miserable very quickly in a matter of seconds. It can be quite confusing when this happens and people can assume we are weird or crazy when it is out of our control how our moods swing to. Hyper-mania or a feeling of elatedness is common in BPD and is where you are on a 'high' mood and can happen often and can be very fleeting, this may come across as 'crazy' where we want to do irrational and impulsive things and can feel like our mind is pinging and whizzing round.

2. Liars and manipulators

I don't know where this trait came from, but it's a common misconception that we are manipulative and lie often for attention. The truth of the matter is we can lie, just as much as anyone else can, but we are not manipulative. We struggle very much with abandonment and this may trigger an adverse reaction that come across as manipulative, such as threatening suicide or self harm behaviours, when in actual fact we are crying out for help because we have reached crisis point and need some help and reassurance. We are not trying to force compliments out of you or forcing you to stay, we just need help with these emotions as we don't quite know how to deal with them.

3. Untreatable

We are often believed to be untreatable, and that there is no recovery for BPD. Again, this is not true, in actual fact there are various methods of treatments for the illness, such as medications like anti-depressants and anti-psychotics, which may be very helpful to some and not so helpful to others. There is also dialectical behavioural therapy or DBT for short, which focuses on mindfulness and using logical and emotional thinking to see sense in situations and come down from crisis point, and can be very helpful for emotional regulation and dealing with the intense mood swings that comes with BPD. It is also possible to go into 'remission' with BPD and no longer meet the criteria for a diagnosis within the 9 symptoms.

4. No Empathy

Another misconception is that we have little to no empathy, when in reality we have more empathy than we know what to do with. We can come across very cold and struggling to understand what other people are feeling but this tends to be when we are overwhelmed and not sure what to do with the information. A lot of the time we can become upset when someone else is upset and this may seem as though we don't care and are being selfish, but some people, myself included, can feel other people's pain and envision it and this makes us very sad too. What this really means is that we know how it feels to experience the lowest of lows, and the reality that other people feel this sadness or any sadness breaks our hearts, we don't want people to suffer like we have and see and feel the pain we have.

5. Unlovable

People with BPD are often seen as 'unlovable' or impossible to hold down relationships due to our struggles and internalised worries about every relationship we hold with other people, but like the rest of this list, this isn't the true case. I have had long term relationships, I was with someone for almost four years from the age of 16, and I've had short term relationships. I used to think that the reason all of my relationships didn't work out was because of my illness, when infact, it was due to the lack of empathy and understanding from my partner that was our ultimate downfall. But I can love and be loved, I feel emotions run so deeply within me that I love with all my heart, and sometimes it's hard to understand if this is reciprocated. But we are lovable, we are capable of being in romantic relationships and having long term friendships, all we need is a little understanding and some communication to build up our trust and let down the walls that hold our deep routed abandonment fears.

6. Victims Of Abuse

It is wildly thought that every person with BPD has developed the condition due to abuse during childhood, although it is common for people who suffer with BPD to have developed the illness to cope with childhood trauma, this isn't the case for everyone. I was never abused during my childhood, I was a pretty happy kid. I had my struggles, I became anorexic at the age of 12 and I lost all my friends and began self-harming, but I was never traumatised. There is no solid defining moment in my life I can pin-point and say that's where my illness developed, it just happened over time and my mental health began to deteriorate. But professionals don't always take no for an answer, because, I have BPD, I clearly must have endured some sort of trauma that is curable with therapy. But it's not always that easy to pin-point the downfall of our mental well-being and is another misconception about the disorder.

7. "Oh, like bipolar?"

Many people hear the words "BPD" and instantly draw the connection to bipolar disorder. Whilst the symptoms and traits can be similar between the two illnesses, they are very different disorders and should be treated that way. Individuals with bipolar may experience long periods of sadness and depression followed by long periods of elated moods and happiness, this may span over weeks or months, whereas someone with BPD will experience a very brief moment of elated mood and a very brief moment of depression, followed by more elatedness, then anger, then sadness and so forth, and this could be anything from hours down to minutes, and what someone with bipolar may experience over the span of months, we may feel in the span of 24 hours.

8. Suicidal Thoughts Aren't Serious

Because our emotions and 'episodes' are quite short lived, it's a common misconception that our suicidal thoughts and ideations aren't real or to be taken seriously as this may pass in a few minutes or hours. But because we feel emotions a lot deeper and a lot more real than a 'normal' person may, our suicidal thoughts are very much painful and real, and can be extremely distressing for us to be in crisis and very difficult to come down from that point without intervention. It is thought that around 10% of people with BPD commit suicide, and around 80% have reported a history of attempts. Any threat on someone's life should be taken seriously and talked about, no matter what their diagnosis.

9. Cannot live a 'normal life'

Have a quick google of BPD, the amount of stigmatising articles and wrongly quoted articles you will come across is staggering. Because of how BPD is portrayed, people think we cannot live full and happy lives, when in actual fact we can live very 'normal' and full lives, but we are just struggling and need extra help sometimes. It's possible to go to school, get a degree, fall in love, have a sustainable relationship, have friendships and be happy whilst living with BPD, it's just a little harder for us than others, but not impossible.

10. We Don't Want To Change

Finally we have the worst myth, that we are treatment resistant and don't want to change. Of course we want to change, living with BPD is at times unbearable, it's painful and difficult and a pain in the arse, if I didn't have to live with this illness for just a day I would be happier. But at the same time, as much as my disorder doesn't define me, it does help make up who I am and why I am the way I am. It holds the answers to my irrational behaviour, my mood swings, my irritability, and I'm okay with that.

I have borderline personality disorder, but I am not evil. I am not dangerous, I am not manipulative and I am not a terrible person.

Have empathy and kindness, always.

Meg x

Tonight the tragic news of Caroline Flack passing was released, and ever since I found out I’ve been sobbing on the sofa. 8 years ago yesterday, the 14th February 2012 my uncle John committed suicide. January 2019 I attempted to take my own life by running into traffic after a night out and Christmas just gone on Boxing Day I took an overdose of all my pills, then two weeks later I tried to run myself into traffic again and was sectioned by the police on a 136 for endangering my life and was ultimately released back to my mental health team.

I’ve felt suicidal for a long time in my life, mostly intermittently as comes with the highs and lows of my borderline personality disorder and depression. But the last two years was the first time I’ve actively wanted to end my own life and take away all the pain I was feeling. I remember so vividly the first time I tried to take my life, I had been out with my friends on a night out and everything was fine, then all of a sudden i started to panic, and I sat there and thought “this is how the rest of my life is going to be - and I can’t cope with that” so I ran. I ran all the way to the dual carriageway hoping a car would hit me. Luckily that night I had my friends surrounding me and who were more than willing to tackle me to the floor until I was taken to A&E in a police van.

Being suicidal doesn’t mean walking around with a noose around your neck waiting for a good moment to strike, it doesn’t mean you can’t leave your bed sobbing and in a pit of depression. Sometimes it does but other times, it’s picking yourself up and carrying on with life despite feeling this worthlessness, hopelessness and all round shittiness throughout your entire being. Feeling like a complete burden on your family, on yourself and on society. Feeling as though nothing will take away the pain deep inside you, nothing will ever change how your feeling and no one will make the pain go away.

People say suicide is selfish, when in fact all you think about in that moment is how you’re doing everyone a favour. You don’t want your family and friends to see you struggle, see you not able to carry on, see you enduring months of therapies and medications and waiting lists only to feel the same hopelessness you started with. You want them to be happy, to live their life without you in it, because it would be better that way - or so you believe. You want to take away your pain but also take away the pain you’re causing your loved ones. Telling people who care about you that you no longer care for your own life is hard, and hearing it is even harder, no one wants to put people through that so they hide it away and keep it a secret until it festers and cannot be contained anymore.

Most people believe being suicidal means you’re ready to die, when in fact most of us who are suicidal just want the pain to go away. We don’t want to die, we don’t want to be gone forever we just want to kill the pain that’s rotting away inside of us and kill the part of us that is no longer living, that is festering inside causing physical pain to your every being.

People also believe that maybe “I could have said something” or that they “could have done something” when in reality, nothing anyone says in that moment when you want to end your life will ever make sense. Nothing is worth living the pain you’re living, the little things in life are meaningless, the joys life brings are just moments, and they’re not enough to make it all worth while. Trying to think that “it’ll all be okay” sometimes just isn’t worth the risk of what if it isn’t okay? What if it’s never okay again? Logically I know I will have ups and downs, that’s just part of my condition, but in that moment I feel as though I will never be okay again, that this haunting feeling of sadness will cloud over me forever.

And that’s what I want to kill, the sadness, the pain, the unknowing of what the future holds. I don’t want to find out. I want to make it all stop, for me and for everyone around me who has to endure my mood swings, my outbursts, my never ending tears and rants and moans.

For anyone that got this far and actually cares - I’m doing better. I’ve started therapy and working on myself, I haven’t self harmed in over a year and I haven’t wanted to make another attempt on my life. I Started a new romantic relationship with someone who makes me incredibly happy, and I got offered a new job which makes me excited for the future and what it holds. I am safe but not from my thoughts and urges, but I’m working on it. And I’m here for anyone who needs help working on theirs too.

Meg x

Being told you're high functioning when you're mentally ill can be one of the most frustrating things ever. It feels so invalidating, so humiliating and down right makes you feel like shit, like yeah you're ill, but you cope with it well so well done you. It doesn't take away your illness, it doesn't make the symptoms any less painful and hard to deal with, just means that you can take a shower, look after yourself and turn up to psychiatrist appointments not looking like a bedraggled depressed demon.

High functioning is a term adopted for mental illness to mean you are a fully functioning human despite your illness. It means you go undetected, you live with a debilitating illness but you cannot see it, you haven't got 'depressed', 'anxious', 'BPD' written on your forehead like a broken leg or a physical disability. It's essentially a psychiatrist or mental health professional telling you "wow, you're doing so well and functioning despite your illness" but what it feels like they're saying is "wow, you're a fucking fraud you may as well not even be here you don't need help" and that's what is so hard to swallow.

My day to day life is pretty regular, I wake up, have an existential crisis and twenty minutes in my duvet saying "do I really need a job/money", trying not to burst into tears and then finally get up, get myself ready and head off to work. I look after myself, I go out and see my friends and family, I drive my car around running errands, I keep down a relationship, I do all the regular things a 21 year old does. Yet despite all this, I still struggle from borderline personality disorder, depression and anxiety everyday of my life.

The worst part about being high functioning is the second-guessing in yourself and how you show yourself. I often sit and think "I wonder if this or this would have been different if I'd have presented myself differently the that professional". I have made three attempts on my life, and never once have I been sectioned, I frequently think about this and been told I'm not at at that stage of needing inpatient help, but what exactly does that person look like if not someone who desperately wants to end their life? Because I was out drinking with friends? Because I spoke eloquently about my struggles and presented as well and fine? Because I wasn't covered in self harm marks anymore?

Whenever I see a new mental health professional I am reminded of how high functioning I am. I live with a complex mental illness and yet I am a support worker in a psychiatric hospital full time, I have a group of friends, I go out regularly, I can and do hold down a romantic relationship, I don't self harm anymore, I don't gamble, do drugs or abuse alcohol. So to them, I am not a typical sufferer. But I am suffering.

It's hard not to feel like a complete fraud in your own illness when you're told you're coping well, it's almost as if doing well is a bad thing? Which makes no sense, like being told your broken leg is healing and being distraught about it. I think the worst thing for me is that they don't see how much you actually are suffering under your guise of health and coping, I feel like professionals don't listen to me when I say I'm feeling suicidal or extremely low because of the fact I work and have friends etc, which is completely backwards, as surely someone who typically has their shit together telling you they still don't feel complete, whole or worthy of life should stand out? I just can't wrap my head around it.

It almost makes me think I have to pretend when I go to see a professional just to feel listened to. I once went in full makeup, dressed properly and didn't burst into tears in an appointment and was told how stable I seemed and how I seemed to be doing well when in fact the words that I'd literally just said to her was "I don't want to be here anymore". I wasn't listened to because of how I looked and presented myself to the world and that makes no sense to me.

Amongst this waffle of an essay what I really want to say is; just because you're told you are coping well with your illness and what you've been dealt with in life, doesn't mean you're not entitled to be struggling, finding it difficult or needing to ask for help. You don't have to fake who you are and prove yourself to be ill just because it's not written across your forehead in blaring red letters. You are doing the best you can in a really shit situation and you should be amazingly proud of yourself, so well done you. Keep trying, keep going and keep fighting, always.

Meg x

I think 2019 has been a rough year for a lot of people, the feeling that people can't wait to get rid of the year is rife and it's been no different for myself. I've had my heart broken, felt alone, felt like I was ready to give up, but I didn't and I'm so glad to say I'm still here and I made it to 2020. I wanted to do a round up of this year in photos and just ramble throughout so it's going to be a long one, get ya brews at the ready kiddos..

You will also notice I changed my hair colour approx 1353637 times this year too, and yes it is damaged as hell and yes it is staying brown for the forseeable!

January

January started off with a bang, on the 3rd me and some of my best mates set off to Amsterdam for a few nights and spent three days drinking fruity ciders, seeing the beautiful city of dam, and playing stupid card games in tiny pubs. It was the best trip and the first time I'd ever been away on holiday with just my friends, the anxiety was high but I was so proud of myself for doing it and checking somewhere off my bucket list at the same time. I would 10000% recommend going if you're thinking about it, it's such a beautiful city and so worth the trip.

Then January got a bit rocky, we went out for my friends birthday and everything was going fine, as you can see from the above picture we were all happy and laughing and even surprised Katy that we were all there and ready to go to leadmill for a night out. Then the night went west, I got very drunk and had a misunderstanding with a friend, and with my drunkeness and highly swung emotional moods due to my BPD being a bit rocky, I had my first suicide attempt. Luckily I was surrounded by all my best friends who did everything they did to calm me down until the police came and escorted me to A&E, of course being the stubborn head I am I discharged myself and went home. I'd never felt so low in my life and didn't know what to do with myself. So the year had a bit of a rocky start to the first month, and I didn't have high hopes for the year ahead.

(although a few days after this I actually retook my driving theory test for the third time and passed, despite feeling like absolute shit I smashed the exam!)

Also January was the last time I self harmed, so it's now been a whole year self harm free!

February

Then February came, and so did many, many nights out in Nottingham where two of my friends were living for their final year of university, and so lots of nights out in notts city centre drinking fancy fight club themed cocktails were consumed. I also went to my first ever gig with my friends to see my fav band Catfish and The Bottlemen. I was absolutely terrified, my anxiety was sky high, I'd never been to a real gig before and never experienced standing in a large crowd of people (other than seeing one direction when I was 15, loool) but it was amazing! Another achievement ticked off.

Then on the 25th I took my second ever driving test... and PASSED! After what was probably well over 100 lessons, a 6 month break, 3 theory tests and a whole lot of melt downs I'd finally done what I thought was impossible and passed my test. I was thrilled! I also got my first ever car, Colin the Corsa. (RIP)

It was also at this time that I started a relationship with a certain Manchester boy, and I was feeling a million times better than this time last month, everything was going my way and I was feeling positive, yet still unemployed...

March

March was a pretty uneventful month after the whirlwind of january and february, I spent most of my time driving to and from Manchester to see my boyfriend and inbetween that spending time with my ever growing niece Rosie, where does time go???

April

April was a busy month, two of our friends were currently working and living down Cornwall, and since we shared a birthday and we hadn't seen them for a few months, we all arranged to drive down to the coast and surprise him! It was the best trip, some of my best friends and my boyfriend all drove down and spent a few days in the cutest air BnB near Port Isaac, drinking rattler cider, going on beach day adventures and eating the best food, and playing a million and one darts tournaments too. I had some blips with my anxiety and one panic attack on the first night but on a whole I was feeling happy and confident and settled in myself.

Then on the 19th, I turned 21! I had a house party surrounded by my boyfriend and my closest friends and had the best time. I felt truly happy and it was the best feeling ever.

During April I also had a psychologist appointment, which had.. more to be desired. I was basically told there was nothing they could offer my therapy wise and that there was nothing more my team could do for me so naturally, I told her to fuck off and got kicked out of the session. lol. I was feeling happy for the first time in a while but under the surface I still had my bad days and I still needed some help, I was finally ready to start therapy and to be told there was none was a huge kick in the teeth.

May

May was another boring month travelling to manchester and having my boyfriend visit me here. The weather was starting to pick up and so days out to the local lake with my munchkin were organised.

Whilst out in manchester my boyfriend lived in the most beautiful little village, and I finally picked my camera back up after three long years and decided to get back into photography (hence the cute cow), this was pretty short lived but hey I gave it a go!

I also had my third hair change of the year and went pastel pink, I was very much summer ready by may!

I was still unemployed by this point after finding out the job I quit my old job for were no longer taking me on because they "couldn't support me and my BPD" in the workplace, so I had applied elsewhere and been offered a job as a mental health support worker in psychiatric hospitals. I started my MAPA (restraint) training and I was so excited to be getting back into work soon after so long unemployed and most importantly, skint.

June

June saw me consuming a lot of alcohol money permitting, and when it didn't , doing a lot of trips to and fro from sheffield with my mates in tow after a day sesh on the pop. I also started visiting the job centre at this point and admitting I needed help with finances and affording my car as well as life in general and got some help from the good old universal credit. I know a lot of people think that 'dole' is a dirty word and are ashamed to have needed to use it but personally, if you need it, take it, it's there to help!

I'd been regularly seeing my psychiatrist by this point and she'd agreed that starting a round of anti-psychotics might be a good idea to trial again, and so I went through the motions to try that to try and lower my mood swings, lessen my impulsive thoughts and overall round me back out again.

The end of June also saw the end of my relationship. I was heart broken, I lost a stone in weight from just not eating and not looking after myself and I was back to a broken shell of a human. But with a little help from my best friends I turned it back around and sorted myself out. Heart break really does suck but god time is a healer!

July

Speaking of my best friends... I spent a lot of time getting drunk with them this month to ease the pain of my broken heart and ego, and I consumed possibly way too much pink gin.

It was an exciting month in terms of my best friends, firstly one of my closest friends from an old job was having her hen-do! We went down to Birmingham, all got out treatments at a decade themed hairdressers and make-up place and got dolled up in our dresses (my polka dot dress wasn't very 50s appropriate but it was all I had!) and got absolutely trollied in Birmingham together, it was the best time and spending time with old work friends was a complete blast.

Secondly, one of my best friends turned 21 and obviously we celebrated in style by consuming all the pink gin and getting absolutely off our faces, ending up in leadmill and me sleeping on my friends settee not knowing where I was and how I got there, a night well done I think.

August

August came around and I finally started my new job! I was officially a mental health support worker in psychiatric hospitals and couldn't be happier! It's long hours 8am til 8:30pm but I was so happy to be back in work and doing something meaningful for other people.

Then Chloe's wedding came along! It was the nicest weekend in Guisborough celebrating Jack and Chloe's nuptials and though I spent it as one of the few single people there (cry for me) I also got to spend more time with my old work friends which was amazing, I'm so proud of my beautiful chicken and so honoured to have got to be there for the wedding.

September

September was another boring month, a few nights out including bringing my sister along for the ride to meet my crazy friends and getting into my work schedule. I started picking up shifts at the CAMHS hospital and was loving it. I was struggling with getting into night shift routine but enjoying it none the less.

October

October saw a rough patch with my mental health, it was mental health day 2019 and I couldn't even get myself out of bed that day to go to work, and had many days similar to that throughout the month. It wasn't the job, it's never been the job, but my BPD makes working very hard. I struggle with getting up some mornings, I just lay there and think "I really can't do this", and makes my life impossible.

But most days I do get up, and I go out and see my friends and I go to work and I go and get new tattoos and things are fine! But the days that they aren't can be the worst days possible.

November

Yes I did manage to go through three hair colours this month... I dyed it pink and hated it so let it wash out to a pinky blonde wash, and then finally settled on going back brown. It's boring and I miss the blonde so much but the pink just wasn't coming out! So now it's back to my brown roots and sorting my hair condition out.

I also got a tiny rose tattoo behind my ear that I am in looove with, my family however are not. But I think it's pretty! I also took my Rosebud on a shopping trip this month, boy was that stressful, how do single mums cope with toddlers on their own??!!

Then it was Chloe's 21st, which meant going out and getting absolutely ratarsed with my favourite people ever, getting in at 3am from leadmill after drinking one too many vodka cokes and my sister classily throwing up outside her house... a good night done well.

December

December was a tough month. My mental health took a really big dip this month, I was suicidal and really struggling. My best friend Conor (pictured) spent most of the month looking after me or me looking after him, I couldn't have been without him or the rest of my best friends (too many to name but you all know who you are) this month by my side.

Probably the first month I didn't go out anywhere, I made one attempt with conor to my mates christmas do, and we were both so anxious it ended up in him leaving and coming back to help me stop crying in the toilet having a panic attack. So went well really.

Then came boxing day, and I made my second suicide attempt. I'd been feeling suicidal and depressed and missing a lot of work and that night I'd just had enough. Luckily the paramedics came over and told me I'd be okay, that my mental health team would contact me and left - they actually contacted me to say they wouldn't be seeing me and I'd have to wait for my psychologist appointment that I'd been waiting 6 months on the wait list for. My mental health team are pretty much the shittest place ever.

And that's where my year in review comes to an end. It's been one of the hardest years of my entire life, but I'm here and I can say I did it. And if that's not something to be proud of I don't know what is. I've had good months and bad months, but I'm still here to keep on going, and I'm officially one year self harm free! I've had my heart broken, I've cried myself to sleep and I've had days where I've completely had enough, but I did it. And everyone reading this if you made it this far have made it too. Be proud of yourself and what you've accomplished and never forget them.

Happy 2020 guys I hope it's a good en for all

Meg xx

I've been trying to figure out how to open this blog post for about 25 minutes, when I want to write something positive and helpful but all I can really muster up the strength to say is, I'm struggling.

I'm struggling to just get out of bed in the morning. I don't want to shower, I don't want to go to work, I don't want to speak to anyone and I want to sleep all day. But I do all these things, I get up, I go to work in a psychiatric hospital and I do my best to help young people cope with their lives when I can't even cope with my own. I talk to people and laugh and joke with colleagues and tell them funny jokes about my life and pretend everything is fine, I smile and laugh and walk down the corridors singing and fist bumping my co workers with a "I'm good thanks you?!" when all I really want to do is curl up in a ball on the floor and sob.

Living with a mental illness is exhausting. Faking and living a second life is tiring, having to pretend to be fine is draining. But we do it, because it hurts too much to just say "actually you know what, I'm not doing so great right now". Admitting I'm struggling is a personal milestone I can't quite tackle and never have been able to, I've never wanted to appear weak, or leave myself open to judgement - "is she safe to work here like that?" "maybe she's lying to get attention" "she's so dramatic" "all she does is complain that girl".

For me, BPD means I swing from one erratic mood swing to the next within minutes, sometimes seconds. Today I've been singing my heart out in the car, barely able to sit still in my seat in the coffee shop talking and ranting at a million words per second, happy and laughing and now a mere few hours later I'm so sunken into a depression I couldn't even get out of bed to go get a drink, just sitting up to write this post is physically painful on my body and my mind feels numb. I'm panic stricken about what my mood will be like next, and how easy it will be to get up tomorrow and take myself off to work. It also means that earlier, when I received a phone call to say I wouldn't be seeing my psychiatrist, someone I've seen every 3 months for nearly 4 years, again, I completely broke down, sobbing on the phone to the duty manager and angrily telling her to fuck off when she couldn't help me and was only passing on the message as to why I hadn't received an appointment letter.

I struggle to contain and deal with emotions, particularly stress or change, this can make me angry and erratic, and lead to a complete mental breakdown. For example, last night a wave of sadness took over me, and I began sobbing on my friend out of nowhere. I was overcome with emotions of not being able to cope with this anymore, and just wanting an out. When they and my mum touched me to try and comfort me I began screaming in pain, I couldn't bare to be touched or spoken to. 20 minutes later when I finally calmed down I fell straight to sleep, exhausted at the deep depression my mood had swung me into.

Living with borderline personality disorder makes these experiences a daily occurrence, and can make me difficult to be around. I can find different tones of voices hard to swallow, instantly feeling a hostility between me and someone else, and find it difficult to voice my frustrations at situations I don't feel comfortable in, instead hyperventilating and getting myself close to a panic attack in my seat.

But it also means I can be the life and soul of the party, the one that gets everyone up to dance and the one that always wants to please people. The one that's always there to listen, to help you with whatever you're going through and lend an ear day or night. It means I can be empathetic and sympathetic and help you get through problem, because I know what it feels like to struggle.

Living and dealing with a mental illness is exhausting, painful and tiresome, but it is doable. Going to work everyday, seeing and talking to friends, going out for drinks and meals and spending time with loved ones is possible, no matter what your mind tells you. You are always loved and never alone.

Meg x

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