By Charlotte Edmunds
So recently I have documented a lot of my depressive episode and a new diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). As much as it makes sense, I am still unable to identify myself as BPD as I thought I was Bipolar. Whatever the title or reason, depressive episodes do not discriminate.
I’m having/coming out of/unsure where I am in a depressive episode. I have had very prolific and real suicidal thoughts. I don’t want to die, I just want it to stop.
I feel things so intensely; I am currently watching the news, another terror attack, more people dead. Read the internet – another person hit by a train. Did they kill themselves? It sets your brain right off. I also just got news of someone I care for dying. And my big, big boss wants to see me. But back to my point. The news hurts me. The news makes me over-think. I want to be a mum, but I also am not selfish enough to put my issues on another and bring them into this horrid world with my view. That’s not to say anyone who has had children is wrong, I bloody love kids, and any time spent with children is awesome. But children are also sponges and I am very expressive.
I am sitting here just watching evil, pure evil in the world. Someone has died, innocently lost. Now you know what we will get: did he have mental health issues? Answer: yeah, probably. More stigma.
I cannot cope with all the negative; you tell me to cheer up and see the positive. HOW? HOW can you see the positive when there is NOTHING good? Also, as a former nurse, I see such horrific things happen and I can no longer help as I am not working or registered (NOT MY FAULT, AGAIN MORE BETRAYAL).
I just want to cry and can’t! It gets really inside, feeds those voices that tell you it’s all worthless. Why am I actually bothering? I am a good human – I cannot stand seeing the bad.
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