The Loss Of Hope That Created A Blog

Hello darkness my old friend, it's almost poetic that those were the words flowing from my car stereo as I opened this laptop. I’m not sure where to start, or what this will blossom into, if anything. If you are able to follow along in any way, you are either a psychiatrist with an in-depth understanding of someone with Borderline Personality Disorder, Bipolar 1, cPTSD and ADHD, or some poor soul who understands all too well my frame of mind right at this moment. I'm sorry my guy, I feel your pain. Wholeheartedly.

My hope for this endeavor is, that if one person learns from my mistakes or one person realizes they're not the only one suffering, and even one person is moved to get some help, I will have surpassed my goal. My goal is I need a safe outlet for my thoughts and I think that this might help me. If it does blossom, it will have no proper structure or timeline. That would require me to be able to organize my thoughts and more importantly, have access to most of my memories; I have neither. I would like to also note that I'm the furthest from a medical professional, these are just my thoughts.

I’m day 4 after a psychotic break, or day 4 OF this psychotic break, depends who you ask. I'm not entirely sure myself, they keep upping my sedatives, so I’ve lost concept of time and space and up and down; yet somehow words keep appearing on the screen. I drove… and before the judging starts, I think driving right now is the very least of my shortcomings and or problems and it was unused back roads. So, I drove to the one place that makes me feel safe. I parked with my tires in the water, and my windows cracked so I could hear the waves breaking on the shore, almost as an accompaniment to the sorrowful music playing in my car. Each song bringing me back to a time and a place, and most importantly a person. Every person I’ve ever loved, every person I’ve ever let down, every person I’ve ever hurt and ruined, they live in these songs.

I envy the waves crashing into the rocks in front of me, to me they are blissful and free, yet at the same time, they’re the most powerful force known to the universe. There’s no stopping them, no hurting them, they just forge their way without a single care. The sun is out, and the weather is finally warming.

Usually this is when I’m at my best mentally. The time of year I keep telling myself is coming when I’m feeling like there’s no light in sight. I think that’s one of the things that really hurts, I fought so hard all winter, like unbelievably hard, knowing this beautiful break of just… peace. That it was coming.

And it came, it really did! I could feel the waves of calm and tranquility wrap around me the first time I drove to my safe place and just listened to the waves. It was a feeling that’s hard to describe, a swelling of the heart and lungs, like the chains that were constricting them fell off in this overly dramatic fashion. The screaming was all of a sudden, a whisper, and it was at the back of my mind. I could hear my thoughts again; I could feel love again. This one day a year is what I live for, I can make it the other 364 just for this one perfect day. And I did have my perfect day this year, it was magical. It filled me with the usual reassurance that the next few months would be filled with peace and sunshine and walks in nature. That the darkness, mental noise and complete loss of myself would be held at bay by Persephone and all the growth she brings.

All this makes these last 4 days all the more difficult. This was my time; it was time for me to get a little of the tranquility I've been fighting for all those dark sunless months. It made me wonder for the first time in a very long time, is it really worth the fight. Most of my life is complete mental chaos, and now my long-anticipated vacation into bliss has been robbed? What if it keeps getting robbed? What if there are no more perfect days ahead? What if there will never be any peace?

So this last, let’s call it, “break from reality”, has an incredibly long back story of total miscommunication, lost documents, and 2 professionals that I was supposed to be able to trust that catastrophically dropped the ball. Honestly, I’m not mentally capable of delving into details any further than that yet. None of those things take the blame off me. I could have averted the whole thing by being truthful months ago. I could have averted at least part of it when I was confronted instead of lying to this persons face. Something I never thought I’d do.

Nevertheless a part of me remembered the results of being truthful. Whether it was my birth giver, or my partners, being truthful usually led to physical pain. That scared part of me takes over when I feel like I’m in a similar situation. Again, I’m not trying to avoid blame in the end, its my brain and my mouth and I need to learn to take control of them.

Let’s step back a second, this person I’m referring to. This person has been my rock and my weakness. They have been my biggest cheerleader in my recovery. The one person that would tell me they’re proud of me for tiny accomplishments, things that the average person would do instinctively, but on some days to me, seemed like insurmountable peaks. The one person who would hold me and tell me everything would be ok, no matter how many times I hurt them. The one person I knew would never hurt me. I can honestly say they were the love of my life, not in the romantic sense, more in the soul to soul connection.

So I lied. And I saw in their eyes the moment the words left my lips, that they knew. I saw the pain that I had once again inflicted. Not because of what I lied about, but because I couldn’t be honest with them. Pain that I would give anything to take back. But even though these sedatives are messing with my concept of time and space, I’m aware enough of the fact that words aren't like sparrows, once they have flown, they cannot be recaptured. And just like that I knew it was over, I had lost the one person who knew me, who knew how to help me. I could see it in their eyes.

The worst part is, I’ve seen that look before. I’ve made them feel pain to the point that something that resembles hatred enters their eyes. Yet time and time again, no matter how many times they’ve said they’re done and how many times they’ve told me that they cannot keep jeopardizing their own mental health, they always come back. They come back because they know me, know that I’m not ok and it doesn't matter how angry they are at me, they need me to be ok. Well I’m not ok with that anymore, I’m not ok ruining someone's life, especially one that I love so dearly. This time I won’t let them back in, although this time I’m not entirely sure they’ll even try. Whatever the case, I won’t allow it. I know it's going to be the hardest thing to accomplish and will hurt them in the process. I believe a little bit of pain for a short time is better than a lifetime of misery.

So there you have it, the precursor to my psychotic break, along with a poorly timed medication increase and we have the causation for these words flying onto the screen. Still not exactly sure why I wrote this or what will happen to it, all I know something in me knows, and made it happen.