This blog is over.

I was on a tour, years ago, and we were on a ship traveling between two islands. 

The sea was rough. So rough, the bands I was traveling with, and everyone else on board was launched into the air as we crested each enormous wave. It was night time, which added to the sense of foreboding.

A rough crossing, as they say at the snack bar counter.

Of course I was out on deck, holding the rail, looking at the black water, feeling the whole ship shudder as the waves slammed into it. Powerful, unstoppable walls of water.

We were at the whim of the sea.

I wasn't sure if I was going to survive it, and me being me, I wasn't sure I wanted to.

I'm mentally ill.

I have been ever since I could talk. What used to be considered bad behaviour, hyperactivity, attention seeking; now have neat new names and entries in the DSM. When someone I know suddenly disgusts me beyond belief with no warning, it's just silly old borderline personality disorder. When I'm terrified at the prospect of doing something I do for fun, it's ADHD. When I can't see the point of living any more, and start planning my own death, that's...

...where I am right now.

Those dark waves are smashing into me again, and it's so dark out here I just can not see the point in trying. My whole life has gone by and instead of things getting better, they only get worse. I've been homeless since last year. I have no privacy, no security. No dignity.

I can't just work my way out of it because I'm still completely burned out from the last time I tried to do that. Believe me if I could, I would.

I can't just positive think my way out of this, because that's not reality.

I feel constantly guilty because I have special needs, but there is no framework to support people with my disability in this country. It's left up to families to take the weight, and I don't have one. And my friends are understandably tired, because they didn't sign up for this. They always disappear, and my current friends are in the process of doing just that. I can't blame them. This misery grinds everything to dust, even though I put on a smiling face for them. It's called masking. I'm pretending to be happy for you, please don't abandon me.

So this nihilism rises up and swallows me completely, and I'm too tired to fight it any more. I've been lonely for so many years, but I can't be vulnerable with another person again. And no one is upset about that... whatever I used to have that people found attractive is long gone. I've been invisible for over a decade.

There is no bright future. Things will just keep getting worse, and I can't even handle this much worse.

I went to a support group for people with BPD. Everyone had the same question- "How can I stop this constant hurting/guilt/confusion/loneliness/exhaustion/isolation?

And there is no answer. It was a waste of time. Everyone in that room was fucking doomed. People with BPD are 45 times more likely than non BPD people to commit suicide. 70% of people with BPD do it. Because there is no other way out.

It's all I can think about.

This blog is over.