Woke up late this morning, I’m usually pestered awake by Dom, as he has a thing about being in bed past 12pm 🙄… I’m a lazy person. I like to sleep. This bothers me. But, recently (since we got the PS4) he plays FIFA on a Saturday morning – giving me a lie in.
I rolled out of bed afternoon time, and was feeling great! Just so happy! I couldn’t place why, but still, it’s all good! It could have had to do with the online test I completed in the tryout for a job with the DWP (Government’s Department for Work and Pensions).
Also, yesterday an ex colleague and friend got in contact about a job they have been made aware of by an ex employer of theirs… senior work coach that would earn a fortune! I have the skill set. She also said she’d put in a good word for me!! I’m so flattered! Totally applying to this ASAP! Never know! So I’m going for that too!
My little bro is looking to BUY a house!! … Buy! Well, his girlfriend is at least – she’s the one with a job, (in a bank). I had a bit of a typical bitter BPD reaction when my parents told me they were looking for a property to buy…
Life is not fair. Everyone I’ve spoken to on the subject tries to tell me not to compare myself to others… ha. How do you not do that when everyone else’s lives are falling into place and mine is falling apart? When I try so hard to keep my head above water, working, where my brother hasn’t had a job in years, OR been on benefits, and now plans on buying (sort of) a house?!
Dom actually gets really mad at me for having this envy/jealousy towards other people who’s lives are working out for them. All the usual reasons – it’s not healthy, blah blah blah. Sometimes I just need to vent it though, and then I’ll get over it. For example… when I found out my cousin was having a baby I had a complete mental break down (over Christmas, two years back) and my bro and mom had to call an ambulance to deal with me. Now the baby is like 8 months old and it’s all fine. I still get pangs of jealousy as I (and the baby) age and I am still nowhere near capable of rearing a child of my own… let alone looking after myself. Fuck!
Anyway. I’m drunk right now and I’m coming to terms with my bro moving forward. As long as they don’t get pregnant before we do. That would just about kill me.
Today radio 6 woke me up as usual, informing me of world events alongside some good tunes. Today is International Woman’s Day… it got me thinking (there’s a lot of space to think when you’re unemployed), I thought about writing a post on topic, but couldn’t find my angle. So instead, I’m going to freestyle.
The first person and most important woman who will ever be in my life is my Mom. It’s only been in the most recent years (my late 20’s and early 30’s) that I have really grown to appreciated her for EVERYTHING she’s done for me and my little (now big) bro, and all she’s endured and sacrificed for us.
The more I thought about it being international woman’s day, the more I ended up thinking about my mom – so this post is dedicated to her.
I speak to my Mom almost everyday about nothing, somethings, anything’s and everything! This evening I text her to tell her that she is my hero. I am a bit depressed at the moment, and I got tearful in front of Dom about a memory that haunts me… Mom and I were in class learning BSL level 3 a few years ago, the topic of conversation in the group was ‘role models’, we each took turns to say a role model of ours, it came to my turn and I said “I don’t know?”, other group members laughed as my own mother was sat beside me and that would have been an obvious choice. I glanced at my Mom and she looked a bit hurt, but hiding it well, laughing along. I think I can accidentally be a real arsehole sometimes. It was just that (at that time) I didn’t believe in having a ‘role model’ as such. I’ve grown up a lot since then. I’m less of a twat.
My Mom loved my message, she told me she went for a walk in the park today and got talking to a grandmother on the way home, in her message to me, Mom talked about the woman:
“She said about her daughter when she was growing up ‘I never thought that we would be best friends’, but she said ‘we really are’, it made me think about us and how we are best mates, I had never thought of it before?” – My Mom
She’d made me realise it too -my Mom is my best friend. If ever I have any news she’s the first person I call. When I’m bored (however sick of me she must get) I phone and she answers. I love that woman. I have two main people saved in my phone as emergency contacts, my Mom and Dom.
I texted her back confirming we’re best friends forever! (Complete with tears streaming down my face – like I said, I’m a tad depressed and the slightest thing can set me off at the moment).
Understatement… shit, I was balling! There is too much emotion for me to comprehend, to handle. I thought I’d never be able to stop crying. The love, the pain of the future loss, the guilt of not being there when she’s needed me in the past. Everything. I’m a big upset mess at the moment. I’m due my depot injection tomorrow, think I’m going to enquire about upping the antidepressants. ANYWAY!
This has been a good post, I feel I haven’t had to delve too much into my upbringing to show you how much my Mom has done for me and my brother. However, I will say, she did above and beyond as a single parent to give us both more opportunities than she could have ever dreamed of when she was a kid. If a mother supports and provides for their child/children then my Mom is the best in the world.
Woke up this morning in a cold sweat (which is becoming the norm) following nightmare-ish stressful dreams. Decided not to move for a few hours. Didn’t even check my phone (almost like I knew it would be bad news). When I eventually peeled myself out of bed, popped my pills and checked my emails there it was… the ‘sorry but you have been unsuccessful’ email from my old job. I was so emotionally fucked by it that I didn’t react. Didn’t cry, didn’t even sigh. I think I’m broken now. How far I have fallen… I can’t even get offered my own job back from a charitable company that work closely with disabilities. My mental health issues clashing with work was too much for the company to handle. They knew they couldn’t sack me, so they waited until my contract ran out and then did everything they could not to re-hire me. Too much trouble for them to deal with the personality disorder.
There was another notification on my phone. A missed call from my GP surgery. I called back and they booked me in to have my COVID-19 vaccine tomorrow! I was shocked. I’m only 32. I read online the other day that doctors practices are now giving the vaccine to the severely mentally ill. I guess that’s me. Mental illness stops me from working yet gets me a VIP ticket out of the pandemic risk?… it’s swings and roundabouts.
I’m pretty messed up at the moment. To be honest, I don’t know what is keeping me going. I wake up to wait to go back to sleep. The days are empty. Boring. I have no motivation to occupy myself. I try to force it, for my boyfriend’s sake. He’s working his arse off 24/7 doing his final year of his Bioinformatics PhD. While I rattle around the house with a blank look on my face. All I have to look forward to is getting fucked on the weekends. Even that has it’s downfalls, the inevitable dreaded hangover until the next drinking session. My hangover was so bad last weekend I actually puked. I’m 32.. I should not be binge drinking to the extent I puke due to been hungover. Buuuut, I’m unemployed and depressed. I know I’m not helping myself.
At what point do I give up? I’m not allowed to be on work related benefits, rent, food, bills, still have to be paid for though… my Mom is helping me out where she can, bless her, she’s been sticking a few hundred quid in my account once a month – which is lovely of her but makes me feel like shit. Again, I’m 32… I should not be sponging off my mom. Ugh. I need a job, I need my own money.
In the back of my mind I’ve started to weigh up the likelihood of me getting a job in the current climate, and whether it would be worth applying for disability benefits. I know I have enough going on to qualify. I think that’s a discussion I need to have with Dom. I would hate for him to think I’m a waster, I want to work, and I will! But how soon… I just don’t know.
The other day I had a phone conversation with my manager from the job I’ve just been made redundant from. I’d been owed this phone call for about a week but he’s a busy man, I understand. I’d had to politely remind him by text several times to give me a ring. The idea was for him to give me some feedback following the two interviews I had (via Zoom) to be redeployed in the company (that I was unsuccessful in), but we didn’t really touch upon that at all. Instead he asked about what new job opportunities I’d been looking at elsewhere, and started suggesting where else to look – despite vacancies becoming available there, where I’ve worked for the last two years… I asked about my chances of coming back if I should happen to apply for these new roles, and to my slight confusion he seemed to deter me from applying, putting me off with info about another colleague stepping in and likely to get the job etc. I just got a very strong feeling that they don’t want me back.
I know I haven’t been the easiest of employees to work with, due to my mental health conditions, but I like to think that I’m a hard worker who gets results, and that my managers had come to look past my (MH) disabilities… but clearly they had had enough. I actually felt that this was the case earlier in my employment, after been given an initial warning, followed by a disciplinary and then the threat of a second disciplinary -all of which I felt were unfair and unfounded considering my personal situation and complex needs. I saw an occupational health therapist for a ‘fit for work’ assessment after my managers called for it and HR made the referral, (around the time of my disciplinary). I was deemed both fit and unfit to work, depending on my fluctuations in wellness -which I’d already told them about and explained a hundred times that this was unlikely to change. I experience massive and extreme mood swings on a daily and monthly basis, from manic dizzying highs to debilitating crippling depression, and I am rarely in a stable state of in-between. But, I battle on! Every single day. I try so hard. Many people with problems similar to my own are (quite terribly) classed as ‘revolving door patients’ by care professionals, in and out of psychiatric hospitals their entire lives. It’s actually quite amazing how ‘functioning’ I am with everything I have going on.
I am quite upset that the company I worked for don’t want me back. I feel like my contracts ending was the perfect way for them to get rid of me for good. I feel like I was set up to fail in my redeployment opportunities, especially with the wording of one particular interview question… anyway. I need to move on now. I think if the company are not willing to stick to their reasonable adjustments to cater for my needs in a fair and equal way, then I’m better off not working for them.
Feeling way too positive today… I’m not used to it…
After a completely sleepless night (one before last), last night I went to bed at 10pm and set my alarm for 7am. I fell asleep with a strong determination to get up when my alarm told me to. And guess what… -I did! I just -got up! If you knew me, you would know how unlikely it was for that to actually happen. I started the day perfectly; came down stairs, had coffee, flicked on the morning news programme, ate a healthy breakfast, had a shower, got dressed -in ‘daytime clothes’ not the usual half and half combo that has become the norm over lockdown of comfortable pyjama bottoms with t-shirt and hoodie, using the excuse that there is no real need to leave the house. As a matter of fact, at breakfast I used up the last bit of cereal in the bag (granola if you want to know), so I decided to go out to the shop to get some more. A nice cold morning walk up the road in the fresh air to the local convenience store. Dom came with me. I woke him up an hour after I got up and we were out the house just after nine.
I tried to explain my current feelings to Dom as we walked… I feel as though I’ve had a near death experience and woken up the next morning thankful to still be alive. The kind of feeling where the grass looks greener, you notice the birds singing, food tastes better. Basically, I think I might be happy. right now, this morning, despite everything going on – I am happy.
Maybe the new antidepressants are working after all. It’s kind of a good job I didn’t ring the psych team yesterday like I wrote that I would, to complain that the drugs aren’t doing anything.
Maybe this happiness is a bit too much? But don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m just a bit weirded out by how drastic of a change my mood has gone through overnight. They always say things will be better in the morning, but they never usually are.
I just kept thinking, where’s my Christmas miracle… y’know? I interviewed for two separate redeployment opportunities but my co-workers got the roles. There wasn’t enough to go round. Reminds me of being picked last to join a team of basketball in senior school.. fucking sucks. At least in school it didn’t effect how much money we have to live on! Being an adult is waaay harder.
I haven’t slept tonight. It’s 6:00am now, so I just got up. Dom and I argued last night. It was a serious one. Came close to the end of our relationship… there was a lot of shouting, slamming things, tears (on my part), it was a mess. I really need to sort my life out. It’s crumbling away, and I’ve worked so hard to get to this point. Depression wants to beat me again, but I’m not going to let it. I’m going to phone the psych team at 9:00am, tell them the new drugs aren’t working on me yet.
Basically everything at the moment is a wake up call. And if I don’t make some big lifestyle changes I’m going to be back at square one, for sure. I don’t want to choose the easy life. I want the good life. And that comes with hard work.
I’m going to spend the next few hours working on my CV and looking for jobs. If I could get a new job to start in January, that could be a real turning point. A fresh start. No horrible reputation of mental health days off sick, or being late because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. A clean slate. New people. Yeahh.. that would be nice.
One of the well known catch phrases associated with Borderline personality Disorder (BPD) or Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder (EUPD) is “I hate you – don’t leave me!”… in my eyes this sums up splitting on a loved one and fear of abandonment.
I’ve been trying to do some thinking this morning as I awoke unusually early, before my alarms (that often fail to get me up anyway). So I came down stairs, made coffee and (unusually) flicked on the morning news (I never turn on the TV). I caught up on current affairs (which again is unusual for me), had breakfast and got in the shower, all without being prompted by my ever patient boyfriend (as he was still in bed). I was quite proud that I was fed, washed and dressed before 9am. I took coffee up to a sleeping Dominic, and gently pestered him in intervals until he got out of bed. Maybe I should have left him to sleep a little longer (he’d not slept well). But quite selfishly I was bored and wanted company and conversation. It wasn’t until he finished his breakfast that I started to moan, but rather than a general moan, I was trying to figure myself out in a self aware way. I moaned about; being bored, not having any friends, being in lockdown, lack of social interaction etc.. Dom reasoned with me, as he does in an attempt to try and get to the root of the mood. I realised that I couldn’t gauge my mood until I was in conversation, and that it turns out that I am grumpy, even after such a seemingly positive start to the day. I then started to explain that I thought I might be jealous of Dom, because his days have a focus (his PhD), he has an aim, work to do, tasks to complete. When he stops talking to me -he is still occupied with things. Whereas when (from my point of view) when he stops talking to me -I have nothing. I just quietly wait until the next snippet of conversation sparks up. I do not actively entertain myself. I just sit there on standby. I feel like I do get bored (very much so) and it’s not like I can’t think of anything to do either. I could list loads of things to do, but my trigger is broken. I will want to do things, but I won’t want it enough to act. Everything seems like a massive effort, I can rarely make myself do anything (even things that I want to do). I will always end up fixing my environment, making it tidy, or filing my nails/plucking my eyebrows. Always a meaningless procrastination task that can wait.
Anyway, after further thought, I think I may have got somewhere in picking this apart. I am not okay being alone. I don’t know how to care or look after myself, how to occupy or entertain myself… I have never been alone.
When I was a baby (apparently) I would cry whenever my mom left the room. I didn’t really have many friends after my one best friend moved away in early childhood. Instead I was picked up by a bully and kept close for years, the bully was the only ‘friend’ I had, and she used to torture me on a daily basis, making me do whatever she wanted me to by threats of no longer ‘being my friend’. I was so scared of being alone that I thought I was better off being tortured. My Dad had another life and never married or lived with my Mom, but he would come over to see us everyday after school for a few hours… and then leave. I remember standing in front of the door to barricade it, and chasing his car down the street as he drove away each night. That hurt me a lot.
I eventually broke away from the bully, only for her to be replaced with a voice in my head called John. He told me what to say and do, I was then technically never alone. For years I had him to talk to in my head, until his demands turned gory and I had to self harm. My troubles were discovered and I was admitted to a child and adolescent psych hospital and put on medication. That was the loneliest time of my life.
Got out of there and made it to college where I met my first boyfriend. I thought he was the love of my life, we were sickly and inseparable, and stayed together for one year and three months… then I split on him and love turned to hate. He was heart broken and threatened to kill himself if I did not agree to get back together. I did not agree… he did not kill himself. But that hurt me a lot and shook my already rickety trust with others. It was like I could just about live with them and not at all live without them.
I had a rocky time at university, that was the second most lonely time of my life until I made true friends a year or so into the three years. I moved away from home in an attempt to gain independence. It was sort of like running away, but safer. I developed an eating disorder and became very sick. Still self harming and drinking I partied away my chances at decent grades. By the end of the three years there was a really good group of us. Friends for life I called them. Then Uni finished and I moved back home with my Mom. Everyone went their separate ways. I lost the first real friends I’d ever had.
At home I spent a year getting high with my brother before he moved away to university. Then I was alone again. No friends, no job. Just the same four walls of my little box room. I got very depressed over the years of isolation and attempted suicide by taking a big overdose and cutting both my wrists.
I got a support worker, 9 hours a week. She was younger than me which made me feel like a failure. But I got over it. She was my support worker for three years. She was practically paid to be company for me. A prescribed friend. I eventually got a job in Poundland which I hated. I befriended the assistant manager and asked him to be my boyfriend. We were together for a few years, both living at our parents houses. Neither of us had much drive. But retail was not for me. The hatred of the job drove me to apply for bigger and better things. I got a job as a support worker (how the tables had turned, I thought). Then the pressure got to me after a year there, and I had a breakdown. Back to square one. I broke up with Mr Poundland, he lost his job and did not look to get another. I was suicidal again, but did not act on it this time.
I joined internet dating sites to find a partner. Wasn’t long before I met Dom, and my life’s work to improve began. I got two part time jobs as mental health worker, moved into supported living as a stop-gap, and then got a more structured job working with deaf people. Me and Dom moved in together. We have had massive ups and downs but have also been on some great adventures. I care about him more than I care about anyone. I don’t want to lose him, and trust me, I think I’ve come close… a few times! But he is the love of my life.
I’m about to lose the stable job I’ve had for two years. But I can’t take another knock… I need to keep moving forwards. I’m not going back!
What I started off saying was I have this fear of being alone, this not knowing of how to be by myself, or how to cope in my own company. I was going to say I need to learn this. But really I need to learn about how to ‘be’ in general. With AND without people!