Had an actual decent night’s sleep, but dead weird dreams again (meds).
The first part of my dream was that I was in this fishing competition with my Dad at the arena, but it wasn’t the arena (obviously), it was a canal.
The fishes were huge, and hooking them was pretty gruesome because we were using barbed hooks (the ones you can’t take out in reverse) and removing them from their huge, blubbery fish mouths was horrible.
The second part of my dream was that I was playing Risk online with several of my friends, including my ex.
But it wasn’t Risk (obviously) it was a D&D campaign.
The online chat function was just like Risk though, where you can only send set phrases and emojis. I sent a few emojis to my ex, because it was the only way I could communicate with him, and I really wanted to talk to him.
I know I keep bangin’ on about it, but I really do miss him so much. A part of me wanted to contact him yesterday, but it came and went very very quickly, because I know it’s way too soon for that.
I am aware that he may be reading this, as he said in his e-mail that he had been following. He was concerned that some of the things I write are aimed specifically at him – like an indirect form of communication. I just want to reiterate to him, and to everybody reading for that matter, that this is not the case. I want to make that very clear, especially given the direction that this particular entry goes.
I promised to him, and to myself, that I would be open and honest during my recovery – no manipulation, no mind games.
All I am doing is documenting my feelings and my recovery, and I am going to continue to do that.
As soon as I took my earplugs out at 7:15 there was the shouting, and I COULDN’T FUCKING STAND IT. I was ragin’, and when I went to get hot water for my coffee, I explained to one of the nurses that even though I seem really chill, I actually have a really short fuse (BPD innit), and I am really worried that eventually I’m going to snap and just start shouting back at her. I explained later that that hadn’t been a threat, but I just wanted her to know that it’s literally taking all my energy to not snap.
Once I was back in my room, I was fine. I got ready, and did some writing. I had a really nice couple of hours, especially because my sequin cushion was catching the light like a glitterball and reflecting all around my room.
At 10AM there was ‘Community Garden’, where they open up this little garden section in the grounds and do some work to it. So I headed on over.
It was weird to walk there on my own.
Outside, completely on my own.
It felt a bit unsafe.
Like riding a bike without stabilisers.
The garden is dead cute. There are veg patches, herbs, and flowers. There’s talk of making a big mosaic to put on the wall too.
I was the only person there, which I found quite nice and peaceful. Had a bit of a talk to the staff about things that have been helping me, and how I like to occupy my time.
The task of the day was to sow peas…
Fill the pot with soil.
Pat it down.
Put one pea in the centre of the pot.
Put four peas surrounding it in a square.
Push them in a bit.
Put some more soil on the top.
Pat it all down.
I ended up sowing TWENTY pots of peas, trying to take as much notice of it as I possibly could.
Mindfulness in practice.
I tried to focus on everything…
The smell of the soil.
Te cold sensation coming through my gloves.
The squidgy feel of the soil in my fist.
The birds tweeting.
Arranging the seeds neatly.
Patting everything down properly.
Eventually four men from one of the other wards came, and I started to get a bit anxious.
The garden was no longer peaceful, there were strangers chattering all around me. I was just about to get started on another task of picking up twigs and wheelbarrowing them up to the top of the garden to make a ‘Bug Hotel’, but instead I decided that I’d had enough.
I could feel myself getting anxious, I’d been out for an hour, and I just wanted to return to the safety of my room.
Once I got back, I went to set up some episodes to download on Netflix, but I WAS LOCKED OUT OF MY ACCOUNT AGAIN, so I had to phone the man and secure it all, which was super stressful.
I just spent the whole time stroking the sequins on my cushion back and forth – so therapeutic. I didn’t realise how much I would appreciate having it here!
I had forgotten that lunch was ‘Fish & Chip Friday’, so that was very exciting!
(about as exciting as it gets here anyway…)
There were loads of people in the dining room (cuz fish & chips), and afterwards I felt intensely anxious. I went to the nurse and took some medication.
Even though all I did in the morning was walk across the car park on my own, I think it had a huge impact on me.
I went back to my room, and played a bit of Cluedo on my tablet.
It sounds so strange, but the music reminded me of Alton Towers, and it took me on a really strange train of thought…
It got me thinking about how me and my ex had planned to go there, cuz neither of us had been for ages. We also had plans to go to a couple of music festivals, and to go on a holiday together. All of a sudden, I felt this crashing wave of sadness. It hit me like a fucking truck.
I missed him so much. I went through our WhatsApp media – photos and GIFs we used to send back and forth, photos of him, messages that we’d sent to each other, and I cried and cried and cried. I realised that I’d actually not properly cried since the breakup. I was body wracking, sobbing, howling kind of crying. I just felt so fucking sad, and missed him so so much. All I wanted was to see him, to be with him, and to re-live the good times that we had together.
I wanted our loving relationship back.
I still want that back.
I still have hope.
Then ofc my thoughts spiralled to ‘well what if this? and what if this? and this? and this? and this?!’.
I felt fucking devastated, and really hopeless.
It’s definitely natural to be sad after a breakup, so that’s no big news. But the thing with BPD is that…
When you feel happy, you’re not just happy, you’re fucking elated.
When you’re angry, you’re not just a bit pissed off, you’re furious.
When you like someone, you don’t just like them, you adore them.
And when you’re sad, you’re not just sad, you’re absolutely devastated.
I think the morning really knocked me. I know that I need to get well if there is any chance of me getting my shit together, but after the anxiety I felt after going out, it just didn’t feel like I was progressing at all.
I went to the nurse, had a big cry and a chat, took some more medication before my mood spiralled any further down, and went for a bit of a walk. Then I got in to bed, put Drag Race on, drank endless tea, and ate 6 Freddos.
On a bit of a tangent, one of the doctors came to see me about my womb medications – she wants to check it all out with the pharmacist before prescribing anything, but it’s good to know they’re on it.
I have a new neighbour. She seemed a bit pissed off, and pretty tearful, but I said hello anyway.
When dinner time came, I went to see what was on the menu, and it was bolognese (mince – gross), so I decided I’d probably just have a pot noodle. I didn’t want to see all the people anyway.
Once the queue went down, I went to the hatch to get a fork, but saw they actually had some of the veggie option left – mac & cheese – so I had that with some of my FRANK’S HOT SAUCE instead!
I say instead, I then went and had a Pot Noodle in bed too.
By this point it was like 6PM and I was genuinely struggling to keep my eyes open. I ate a whole big bag of Starmix in the hope that it would wake me up, but nope.
I got ready for bed, and turned off my light at 7.
I went pretty much straight to sleep, for the first time without a sleeping pill since I was admitted.