Today I hate you. I hate how angry I’m feeling at you. I hate that I can’t send you a message and tell you just how much I miss you. I hate that it’s so agonizingly painful to feel this attachment, but I can’t imagine not having it anymore. I hate how since yesterday this longing for you just builds with every hour that passes, and even when I distract myself, the thought never goes away for long. I hate how it seems you don’t understand how hard this is for me. I hate that I feel you’ve forgotten me. I hate that I’m not able to trust you completely when you say you won’t abandon me… Because right now I feel abandoned. I hate that you haven’t sent me any indication that you’re still here for me. I hate how afraid I am of telling you these things. I hate how scared and alone I feel. But most of all I hate how I don’t hate you, *”not even close… Not even a little bit… not even at all.”


*Borrowed this part from “10 Things I Hate About You”.


I started a new job on Wednesday. My range of emotions are vast.

I’m excited about this job, and enjoying it. Other times I feel fearful and just want to stay home in bed and drown out the world. I’m still trying to find balance. I feel completely off kilter and not quite sure how to handle this. As with any change, it takes a while for the body and mind to come together in harmony again I suppose. And as much as I like change, that fact doesn’t make it that much easier to deal with when it actually happens. Alternating between periods of feeling “I belong here” and “what the hell am I doing here?”, and “what if I fuck up?”.

I no longer have unlimited time to spend on my blog or other people’s blogs, my emails are falling behind, and I haven’t watched TV in days. It feels a little strange to not have that so much anymore. But it’s a good thing. I just really need to find that sweet spot. Anxiousness has reared it’s ugly head again.

I found in the first few days, I was testing the people I work with. Being awkward, saying the weirdest shit because I’m feeling nervous and uncomfortable, only to find them laughing at all of my jokes and paying complete attention to me, almost like they’re eating a meal and savoring every bite. This is strange. I thought I was putting them off. Definitely a good group of people… And it seems I fit right in. After all, anyone who can accept me through my awkwardness is alright in my books. I’m much more comfortable around them now and the awkward moments have mostly disappeared.

Working night shifts, my sleeping patterns have changed too. It feels strange to get home late, past my bed time, and sleep in until 8am. But I’m slowly starting to feel better. Yesterday was the first time in ages that I woke up feeling as though I had a good nights rest. The constant fatigue seems to have gone. So maybe I’ve found a good sleeping arrangement and should continue this even on my days off. Maybe it’s a combination of having a job, socializing, and Vitamin B, Iron and Magnesium supplements that have also helped me feel physically stronger and less mentally exhausted.

They say change is as good as a holiday. Well, it takes a while to get your mind fully into holiday mode too, so I’ll go with that.

I Am Borderline (Powerful Video)

I thought I was relatively comfortable saying I have Borderline Personality Disorder. But the truth is… I don’t yet think I am. I feel if I admit to it I will just be giving myself permission to continue to let the symptoms own me, so to speak. I’m afraid that if I admit it, I’ll be admitting to weakness. I feel ashamed. Would I feel ashamed if I had the flu? No, so why should this be any different? Voices from the past (and present) repeating over and over again that it’s all in the mind. Yes, it literally is. But that’s not how they mean it. It’s not just society. It’s that one person I wish could understand. The one person I wish would show compassion instead of making hurtful (and untrue) comments.

Why do I keep trying to reach out to someone who doesn’t know how to show emotion? Someone who thinks throwing money at me makes it all better. Someone who just keeps hurting me over and over again in ways he can’t even imagine. Someone who I never wanted to hear from while living far away, and didn’t want to answer calls from, yet feeling abandoned and desperate when he wouldn’t phone me every few days. Picking up the phone to call him, and “jokingly” asking him whether he forgot about me.

Hating him so intensely, while other moments, loving and wanting him so desperately. The desire to feel a connection to him. For him to be the father I always needed and wanted him to be. Attempting to get his attention, while at the same time uncomfortable with the thought that I might get it. Wanting him to really see me. Longing to escape him, yet feeling that even when I do, I’ll be unable to let go completely. That only death will annihilate it.

Trying to hide the marks on my skin from him, in my late teens and early adult years, yet desperately wanting him to notice them. Realizing one day that he had noticed, but never saying anything. Having his sister tell me to roll up my sleeves, while he stands there, saying nothing, not even looking at me. Refusing her harsh request, but being unable to stop her from grabbing my arm and forcing me to reveal what’s there. Her yelling at me “you stop this shit today!”. Looking over at him, hatred flooding my body, daring him to look at me. But he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at the floor. The coward. The bastard. Wanting to yell “I hate you”, but keeping it locked away instead. And still… I keep it locked away.

I feel like there’s something fundamentally wrong with me. I feel like no one understands. Not even my therapist. Not my closest friend. Unless we have somehow miraculously been transported into another persons body and mind, we will not understand what someone is really going through.

One minute I’m floating on a beautiful cloud, as high as I can get, surveying the amazing, rich landscape below and filled with gratitude, and the next the cloud just disappears out from under me and I find myself plummeting back down into the lowest depths of the earth.

I’m tired. Of this constant up and down, over and under. It’s exhausting. I long to just sleep for a few weeks, to get some rest. Or to fall asleep… Forever.
I’m so tired. I sometimes wish someone could just come and carry all this for me. Just for a little while. But no one can.

I want to yell “fuck it all”, “fuck you world” from the highest rooftop. Keeping these screams inside feels like a poison coursing through my body. The frustration and pain is so strong that it has a physical effect, and I can’t stop the shaking.

Another mark. They say it’s inappropriate. But if I express my emotions by giving them a voice, they say that’s also inappropriate.
“Just be positive”, “It’s not that bad”, “You can choose how you feel”.
So please tell me… What do I do when neither of those options are seen as “appropriate”? My mind is a black hole and maybe the answer is there, but there’s no light to illuminate it in this moment I find myself in.

I just saw my therapist on Thursday, and already I’m desperate to just reach out to her. To hear her soothing and gentle voice. But what if it’s not that voice? What if it’s the firm one? The one that frightens me when I’m in such a vulnerable place. No, I can’t call her, even though it takes every ounce of strength to resist… A strength that just leaves me drained and depleted.

It’s this hopeless, penetrating sadness again. I came across this video, and couldn’t stop the flood from taking over and unleashing the storm. It was as though someone was slicing through my whole body with a sharp knife, and the blood was pouring out in the form of tears. It hurt so bad. Because it touched me on the deepest level.

Dream: Waves

I was going to start this post with an apology for my last post, and for not having written anything in a little while. But I don’t want this blog to become a place where I apologize for having feelings (or not feeling anything at all), or where I post because I feel I have to. I think I know myself well enough to know that once that happens, it will just become another thing I stop because I feel overwhelmed and like it’s a responsibility. Thank you to everyone who reads my posts, and for all your comments, likes, and emails. I appreciate all of you.

I’m still not in the head space to write anything ‘profound’ or uplifting, so decided to share another dream instead.

Last night I had a nightmare that I had so many times as a child and teenager, but over recent years hasn’t featured quite as much. Strangely enough, the dream is always the same, with only very minor differences.

I’m standing in a wooden house in what appears to be the middle of the ocean, because I can’t see a shore in any direction. The house is on stilts. Either I am doing something in the house, or I am just looking out the window over the ocean. If I am doing something, I hear a thundering noise, and go to the window, or out on the deck. I see this huge wave coming toward me. There’s a massive storm as well. I do not panic, but feel this intense fear. I want to run, but I know I can’t. That there is nowhere to go. So all I do is watch as it comes closer. I usually wake up the instant before the wave can hit the house.

A few times the wave would actually hit me before I woke up, and I would be struggling to grab a hold of any piece of wood I could find. Panic taking over, I would struggle and swallow a lot of the salty sea water. I was busy drowning when I would jolt awake, and find myself safe in bed, but feeling very unsafe, my entire body shaking and my heart beating in my head. This extended version of the dream played out last night.

I wish this dream would just stop repeating. Although I suspect it has to do with feeling overwhelmed with life and everything going on in my head. It literally feels like I’m drowning lately. I also can’t help but feel that even the wooden house represents something that I just can’t quite figure out. I guess that’s the world of dreams.

The Ocean In Me

I was recently featured on a beautiful website, Broken Light Collective, and thought I’d share it here too. Photography is an amazing art form, which helps me find the beauty in life and this incredible planet we call home. It’s also a great way to express and explore our feelings.

I wrote a little something that I feel ties in with this photo of the same name “The Ocean In Me”:

A calm and beautiful ocean lies in front of me
But today, today she has other plans
Clouds gather in the distance
Close, closer
The light breeze not content anymore
Sweeping over me, blowing faster
Running from the intensity to follow
Thunder rages, announcing the storm

They don’t understand, they can’t
Waves crashing over one another
Emotions rising and falling
Fast, faster
Sweeping me up in the current
Struggling beneath the waves
Desperate, coming up for air
Only to be swept up, and away again

A calm and beautiful ocean lies in front of me
And today, today she is content

Broken Light Collective

Please welcome first-time contributor Rayne, a woman in her early thirties who was recently diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder, as well as Borderline Personality Disorder. She’s struggled with depression her entire life, and never felt that she truly belonged anywhere. Passionate about photography and helping others, her goal is to start studying psychology as soon as she is able to.

About these photos: “You can be staring out at the ocean, on a beautiful cloudless day, and all of a sudden the wind starts blowing, clouds appear in the sky, and a storm approaches. That’s what happened the day this photo was taken. The wind had just picked up, and the clouds were starting to come in from behind us. This photograph reminds me of my own emotions. How quickly they can change, and how it can feel like an unstoppable force at times. It also represents loneliness, abandonment, and the…

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