My mood has been slipping lower and lower. It’s driving me mad. I cut last night for the first time since the boob incident. It’s a record for me, that long without any silliness but I can’t see it ever happening again. I didn’t go too far. Just the tops of my arms and my ankle. My ankle bled a lot though. It always does.
I hate myself for it but at the same time I feel oddly happy. I don’t fit very easily in this world but cutting is something I can actually do. I control it (mostly). I make myself feel that pain. It’s so different from the emotional tricks that BPD is constantly playing on my brain.
I’ve been really very suicidal recently as well. Only in the last few days but it’s also entered my unconscious. I go to sleep thinking of slashing my wrists and so I dream about it. In the morning there is always a gut wrenching disappointment to be alive.
I have been fantasising about hanging myself. I’m not exactly petite so it would have to be a fairly strong light switch to hold me up. There are these metal things on my ceiling. They were put up to hold one of those swinging chairs. I’ve long since taken the chair down but I have wondered if I could string something up there. I don’t know who to tell or even if I should tell anyone. I feel more confused the more I think about it. I hate myself for considering it but hanging out to dry does seem like my best option at the moment.
Here is a poem about what’s been haunting me of late.
I dream of suicide
The grim determination of the blade into the vein.
The wondering if these thoughts are turning you insane
The thud of heavy bones as the chair is kicked away.
The relief of the knowledge you won’t live another day
The acrid smell of plastic as the bullet leaves the gun.
The final acceptance that there’s nowhere left to run
The tremble of your fingers as you pop the tablets out.
The gulp of every mouthful shows the absence of your doubt.
The sudden jolt of morning with the alarm clock bleep.
The disappointment: it was not death, it was only sleep.
Life on the Borderline 