The note (TW suicide) 

I’m losing it. I must be. It was my ‘good’ week and it has ended in tears once again. I think back over today and put it on replay. The early composure, the conscientious perfectionist that thrives on control and outcomes. I felt so ‘above it’ all. Like I’m walking on the highest of clouds, skipping from one to the next. Sorting them all, supporting them all, aligning them just so. Think about everything but how you feel. The thoughts run so fast it’s hard to keep up. So hard in fact that I miss patches. “Did I put my keys here?” I don’t remember finishing that drink, but I must have because it’s empty. Weird. Now why did I walk in this room?

The frustration builds. I’m so savvy tho that I recognize it and go for a skill to bring that down a little. I can bring it down enough to face the music and continue on my charade.

I listen to a guest speaker talk about her mental illness and ability to hold a full time job, and shine in her other performance job. I am jealous. I didn’t realize that till right now as I wrote it.

I’m sad and I’m jealous.

I want to be authentic and not have to hide my health struggle. I want that support. I wish to be able to have my calming piano music in my ear without worrying about losing my job.

It’s so stressful trying to hide mental illness. It’s so heartbreaking when you don’t want to hide it but fear, yes fear what happens if you don’t.

At the time I wiped away the tears and reassured my boss I was ok to go and present. I would have been if everyone had been nice and cooperative. It was unexpected that they weren’t, and I had to leave the room.

I managed to gain recomposure again and go back and deliver the next 55mins.

The result is exhaustion. And more tears. Tears that fall with defeating thoughts. Tears that seem to fall for unexplained reasons, in the middle of random places.

Drip, roll, drip roll……



And again. Over and over.

So now I’m seriously considering going back on my medication.

Or seriously considering writing a note.

When I was suicidal in the past, it had never occurred to me to rent a hotel room. My mind goes there now.

What if, instead of doing work and releasing stress by catching up, I just leave altogether?

I would hate for someone to have to find me. I could perhaps write a note and stick it on the outside of the door at the last lucid moment.

Please do not come in this room but call emergency services. I have committed suicide and would prefer only paramedics to deal with my body

Or pre-record a message and call when it’s too late?

I would ruin my children’s lives. Forever. I wouldn’t just be killing myself but my family too. Their lives would never be the same. No, I cannot do this to them.

So I binge and purge, and this makes me feel better for now. That’s twice in 2 weeks. Another slip. For now, I fall asleep and nap and I feel a little relieved.

Try not to think of the purge as feeling better…. That behaviour will just get more frequent and before I know it I’ll be relapsing.

I can’t have that. I can’t deal with that again.

Keep positive, keep perspective. Keep swimming.

Just keep. For now. Just keep.


My name is Miss Chameleon

I have been called this several times… Chameleon. It’s been a protective skill and worked in social situations. It also stops me from connecting with… well… myself. Living through personas and identities as I didn’t know who I was. How do I *be* that person? 

Take on the colour of someone else who I want to be and paint it lusciously over my body. Brush on the expression, the tone, mannerisms, beliefs.. become their prodigy. Vulnerably teachable. I belong. 

Although I don’t meet the criteria for BPD anymore, I wonder when a shift happens if it’s really me or have I just grabbed onto another script? The sway for example from evangelical Christian to passionate …. I’m having a hard time labeling it. This might be a good thing. I was going to say crunchy, or critical academic, I don’t know what it is and I’m happy about that.

Get on that yoga mat and I can just let it be. Be me.

Let go Chameleon girl, you have your own colour now

Birds eye view of colour tabbed objectivity

Stealing an idea I read where someone colour tabbed their diary, I decided to do this to keep balance (or even try to find its birth) in my life.

Begin with excel spreadsheet of my timetable, check! Add in study times… housework…add in family times…add in exercise… add in possible work.
Now, colour coding them..
Oh. My. Goggles.
This is an eye opener. Lots of Uni time, then throw in pieces of the rest and I hadn’t even thought of time for myself to do anything I might enjoy, with no room left.

This is a perfect recipe for disaster.

Ok. So I can’t work that often then. I need one day where I can have space to breathe. Relax, perhaps watch a tv show or read a book for pleasure!

Smart. Very smart. 🙂