This isn’t going to be a long post as it’s 1:10 AM and I need to try and sleep. The past few nights I’ve been sitting up all night shopping online. My shopping addiction has reached an all time low. Only people who have suffered addiction would understand how crazy and out of control you feel. It’s reached a point where what was initially something that made me happy is now destroying my health, destroying my bank account and destroying my life. My eyes were blood shot. I fell asleep around 10 AM today and when I woke up at 3 PM there are no words for how dreadful I felt physically and mentally. On top of all my other issues such as my tremor I was breathless, nauseous, in pain, my eyes were burning and my nerves were buzzing. I knew I had to do everything in my power to turn this around. I just feel so hopeless about all the damage the mental health system and psychiatric drugs have done to me that I just let myself go. It’s now been half a year since my overdose and I’m still suffering. I can’t lie on my right side as my pulse pounds like a ticking clock in my ear. I feel a great deal of sadness about what I did to my body that night. If I could take it all back I would. I really beat myself up over it. But I try to tell myself that it wasn’t my fault. That I can’t help this. That I’m unwell, and the mental health system let me down. The overdose may have been prevented if I had of been admitted to hospital when I presented to the emergency department earlier that week. But unfortunately I have a diagnosis in my file that I wish I’d never received. Once you are diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD), you are discriminated against by hospitals and mental health professionals. People don’t want to work with you or give you an admission, even when we have many other co-morbid physical and mental health issues. If you do get an admission they won’t let you stay more than 48 hours. You receive substandard care. This is something that’s been documented in research literature. One study by Gemillion (2003) looked at those with eating disorders.  After being marginally, physically stabilized, patients who also had a diagnosis of BPD were removed from the ward in favor of caring for other patients who were seen to be truly sick rather than manipulative. These patients with BPD met all of the same markers for anorexia as other patients, but their anorexia was labeled as a form of acting out for attention, rather than a form of sickness, as it was for other patients. Despite identical physical markers, patients labeled with BPD were then denied care because they weren’t actually sick, even though the diagnosis of anorexia was otherwise made based on physical markers. Patients with BPD must meet standards of illness above other patients.

I still find it easier to blame myself for what happened rather than a system which has let me down. Perhaps blaming myself makes me feel like I have some power over things. I have repressed my anger at all the people who have let me down and hurt me. When I really feel the extent of my anger, it is overwhelming and not a nice feeling. I even start to relate to people who snap after a lifetime of abuse and go on killing sprees, as we see in the movie Natural Born Killers, and in the song Burn by Nine Inch Nails.

“BPD” is actually the least of my concerns right now. I have a lot of other distressing physical and mental health issues and the hospitals should have made a better effort to help me.

Today I haven’t bought anything (except for a few groceries) and have been spending more time away from the computer. Despite being so sick, I dragged myself out of the house to meet with my doctor who I am also friends with. We went for a long wander through a park and watched birds. She is very knowledgeable about the different bird species. My doctor is buddhist and often tells me things along the lines of happiness is a choice, which I find insulting. We are very different people with very different worldviews. While I don’t find she really understands what things are like for me, we both enjoy nature and it was still good to get away from the computer.

This evening I’m thinking I probably need to leave this city and start a new life elsewhere. Too much damage has been done here. On top of everything the mental health system has done to me, I still live near all the schools and people who caused me to need mental health help in the first place. This week when I went to the post office the lady at the counter asked me if I went to *name of second primary school*, because her son is my age and went there. “I went there for one year and left in grade one” I told her, trying my best not to have a break down in the post office. Staying only one year or so was usual for me. I eventually left every school, usually because I was bullied and abused. No wonder so many people recognise me, because I’ve been everywhere. I think next time someone asks me I will say no I did not go there.

I have a farm in mind that I used to do working holidays at. I would be leaving everything behind. All the beautiful, quirky clothes and costumes I’ve spent so much on will just sit at my dad’s house collecting dust and instead I will be wearing old farm clothes. I would be leaving behind my disability worker who is great and takes me out twice a week. I won’t be near the beach which is my happy place. I also run an art business which I will probably have to leave behind as well. Art and dressing up are some of the few things that bring me joy right now. But maybe living and working on a farm is what I need. It’s just hard to clean my teeth, get dressed or do anything given I’m so unwell, let alone move. Often I get more energy in the middle of the night, but during the day I feel depressed as fuck again. My mood changes so rapidly it’s hard to make any plans.