It’s not me…

(TW: in depth detail of violent behaviour and brief mention of suicidal behaviour)

I’ve been doing much better- my depression has virtually gone since being on Paroxetine and this has made the effects of my BPD mood swings far less crippling.

This said, I thought I’d give you detail on an episode I had yesterday as I can’t talk about it out loud but know it’s good to try and get things you feel so ashamed about out in some way.

Yesterday, I had an emotionally stressful Recovery College course in the morning where I felt I couldn’t say anything and everyone seemed to be talking over each other about things completely irrelevant to the course. Even stigma, anyone in the community knows whenever a person with a mental health problem is given the chance to speak about stigma the vocal floodgates open purely because it’s a daily frustration we all have to face yet something we rarely get a voice to talk about and feel heard. Then I had to go to a meeting for some work I’m doing which meant getting the train for the first time from a station where I got restrained, cuffed and sectioned a few weeks ago and the meeting itself was frustrating, with everyone talking and nothing getting done again. As well as this the guy who runs it snapped at me at the end when I said I needed to leave to get to a GP appointment even though the very fact I came to the meeting was a favour. I got back to the station where my Mum was meant to pick me up at half past the hour in time for me to get to my GP appt at 6 so I could get to the pharmacy I needed to get my prescription for that day by 7. My Mum texted at 24 past whilst I was sitting outside the station in the rain saying just get the bus- I tried to call twice got no answer and only got to me after me calling my sister much later. By that point I had gotten so incredibly worked up I flipped.

I got in the car and started hitting her and the windows until she had to stop the car. When I have an episode I tend to flip between violent and self-destructive. She was holding my by one wrist as I was trying to get out the car to go to the station and jump whilst with the other arm I was attacking her. I shouted threats, tried snapping her phone. Telling her I hated her and I would smash the window and use the glass to stab her over and over as I acted it out. I was completely out of control…completely…not me… I told her I would cut her up and eat her flesh. (As I typed that my head physically turned away from the screen in disgust) I said that I knew the car was being bugged by the police, I told her to drive the car and crash so that we would be number two and three dead (her brother died young in a tragic and horrific car crash.) I’m sure you get the picture now- my muscles were spasming, I was all clenched up screaming and clawing at my face.

The day after one of these meltdowns (this one was not even that bad compared to most of my others especially those a year ago) I always feel very low you can imagine why. As I get back into reality, back to being me I can only feel disgusted, ashamed and incredibly saddened that an illness, and myself could make me behave like this and get to the point where only being sedated can help me. I am left to question how I could be capable of this? How such statements could be formed and phrased so maliciously from knowledge I have in the back of my mind.


I disgust myself.


2 thoughts on “It’s not me…

  1. Hi, Little One:

    You’ve answered your own question in the title of this post; it’s not you. It’s an illness twisting, distorting, skewing your thoughts, making you experience feelings of guilt about something over which you had no control…I bet your Mum isn’t disgusted…

    Sending hugs,


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