Sometimes I wonder what the point is. I take steps forward only to take several more back.
It’s tiring mentally, emotionally and physically.
This time last year I was on subutex contemplating if I was really ready to detox from it completely. I had started at university only a couple of months previously and the fogginess in my head was causing problems.
It has been 11 months since I detoxed from subutex. I completed my first year of uni despite the struggles which threw themselves at me througout the year. I did far better than I believed was possible and felt a real sense of achievement. I stuck my fingers up at those ‘professionals’ who laughed at me and my desire to be a therapist. That was such a satisfying feeling to have.
But since the start of the new academic year in September, I am struggling with terrible social anxiety. I have panic attacks just from the thought of having to sit in a lecture with other students, having to interact and make conversation with them.
I feel myself becoming more and more anti-social and withdrawn from everything. I want to hide from the world most days and just cocoon myself in the safety of my home.
I may be clean and sober, but the reality is that the addiction I had was just covering up the depth of my mental illness. It has been there for at least 25 years (I’m 37 now), and in one form or another I’ve used ‘unhealthy’ methods to get through the days, weeks, months and years.
Now I am having to face things head on and it’s really fucking hard. I cannot begin to express how much I would like to take some of those little white pills which numbed things. I am missing that feeling of oblivion which got me through those tough days.
I am still attending my counselling sessions with my psychotherapist and I know that in the last 6 months or so we have started to make some progress. Building up trust and being capable of participating fully in the counselling process has taken time but thanks to my therpist not giving up on me, I’ve begun to open up about the trauma I have experienced.
I knew it would be tough, but these swings and roundabouts with my mental health is exhausting. My moods are all over the place. I can’t sleep most nights and there are days when I just can’t find the motivation to do anything.
Its so fucking frustrating. I worked bloody hard to get clean and make it through the first year of uni. I don’t think I’ve ever realised how much of a mess my head really is. BPD is a bastard to have to live with.
I don’t care what anyone says about diagnosis etc, I’ve learnt enough during the past 12 months through the degree and counselling sessions to know that things for me were doomed pretty much before I was born.
Its a long story and not for right now, but what i can say is that everything that happened to me throughout my childhood, adolescence and my early twenties has impacted on where I am today. There’s no escaping it. I am unstable, I am scared of attachments to other people, I am scared of being on my own, I am paranoid and alone.
I want to bury my emotions, thoughts and feelings so that I can just get on with my life. I am impulsive and more often than not self-destructive. I feel empty and worthless, filled with self-loathing and anger at myself. I rarely know who i am or who I want to be. I feel lost.