Please note this post mentions self-harm and suicidal thoughts.
I may be a mum to my beautful daughter, partner to my amazing husband, a dedicated teacher working with children with additional needs and writing my second book on living with BPD. But that doesn't mean my struggles are over. Yes, I live a really fulfilling, wonderful and happy life. I experience emotional stability that I once thought I would never have. The vast majority of the time I would say my mental health is in a good state because overall I feel positively about myself, others, my life.
However, that doesn't mean my mental health is in a positive place all the time. Sometimes, in fact, it's in a really, really difficult place. A place where I am lying on the floor, expressing all manner of things that I don't want to share here and sobbing so hard that my face gets puffed up and my eyes become bloodshot. My panic is so strong in these moments that I feel (irrationally) terrified of the people I love most. I hurt myself because in that moment I feel desperate to expel the mental agony.
It's hard to talk about these difficult times. The easy option is to pretend everything is always easy for me emotionally and act like I have entered the famed (and problematic) kingdom known as 'recovery'. Mostly it's difficult to discuss my struggles for fear of being seen as lesser in some way; a less good mum, a less valuable partner, a less desirable friend, a less competent teacher.
A month or so ago, I had a one of these distressing panic attacks. It was the dead of night when it feels like the whole world is asleep, expect yourself. I felt so stressed I could only think of dying (if you have BPD, you will probably know exactly what I mean).
The emotional pressure had been building for some weeks and, for various reasons, I hadn't managed to release some of the pressure before it reached an uncontainable peak. In the run up to this night, I found it too anxiety-provoking to do the things that would have made me feel better. I felt disconnected. I had too much stress from a couple of areas in my life that I wasn't able to alleviate. I felt out of control in my own life and body. I tried to control my life and my body with things that inadvertently made me feel worse, not better.
In the days and weeks surrounding that horrendous panic attack, I was frought with anxiety, couldn't quiet my mind enough to sleep properly and couldn't catch my breath amongst an insurmountable to-do list. I felt frantic, my thoughts raced and I became hyperprodutive. Suicidal thoughts took univited home in my mind-- as they always do when my stress levels get too high. These thoughts are my reminder that I need to take steps to reduce my stress level. I didn't want to end my life, I just wanted to end the unbearable feelings of stress.
After the feelings following the panic attack subsided, I managed to start feeling better. I took the advice of some loved ones and used my DBT skills more. In order to do this, I had to use courage to take a leap of faith. I'm still having to be daring to keep following their advice. People with mental health problems often have to use courage to keep their emotions and feelings calibrated. I know I do sometimes. Nobody sees it expect people who know me very well or who I decide to tell. I mask a lot in many situations.
I write about my difficulties though because it helps me to acknowledge all the parts of myself and my life. I also want others to know they are not alone. This is me and I know it might be you too.
Rosie x
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