Joshua Cole.

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Anon 1 Story

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The earliest memory I have is my dad leaving. Then he came back. Then he left again. There was a lot of violence in my family. My dad used to hit my mum, almost killed her once and me and my two older sisters watched him. He knew we saw him kick my mum and punch her. Apparently, he used to hit my sister's too, but I don't remember seeing that. My eldest sister said that I never got hit, but I have a distant memory of my dad taking his belt off and whipping me with it (but I don't know for definite if this ever happened).

When I was about 12 and my dad was living with one of the many women he had had affairs with, he decided to disown all of us because the Child Support Agency had asked for more money for me. He didn't speak to us for about a year, then one day he saw one of my sister's and told her that we could now call him. I phoned him up and told him how much pain he had caused me, that I had been crying every night, in so much pain because I wanted my dad but he didn't want me. And he laughed. And he said that all the things I could remember hadn't really happened, that I had imagined them.

I can't remember how old I was but once, my dad was looking after me on a Saturday, as usual but when he came to drop me off back home, my mum wasn't in. It turned out that she had decided to go out for the day and was stuck in traffic on the way home. So my dad waited with me and when my mum returned, he said nothing and left. The next morning, there was a knock at the door. It was my dad and I was excited to see him as I thought he was missing me. But when I opened the door, he pushed me out of the way and my hamster that I had in my hand flew across the room and couldn't breathe properly. My dad went into the kitchen where my mum was and pushed her to the floor. He kicked her over and over again in the stomach. I was crying and tried to make him stop but I couldn't. I can't remember any more about that day. My dad would just change. My sister says you can see it in his eyes. Home was very unsafe. Everyone was always trying to hide information about what had happened from me.

My mum used to go out a lot when I was little and she used to leave me on my own quite often. I used to see ghosts when she was out and used to panic that she would never come home, so I would put the kettle on and have to jump over the carpet a certain amount of times so I could convince myself she would be ok and would not leave me.

My mum was upset most of the time, so I would have to comfort her and look after her as my sister's had left home. I was always making cards for her and writing letters to her to try to make her feel better.

Once, I fell over and needed to go to the hospital for an x-ray and a tetanus injection. I had to have the injection in my bum and when any of the nurses came near me, I freaked out and ended up kicking them away. They were concerned about my behaviour and sent a social worker round to my house. I heard my mum and my sister talking to the social worker about me, but no-one got me any help. I so needed help as I was hurting so much, my school work was suffering, I was crying all the time and I was constantly making up illnesses, everyday there was something else wrong with me. But nobody helped me. No-one could see what was happening to me. I was always trying to break my leg, I don't know why. At school, I was always trying to cut myself with the end of a pair of compasses.

We had two dogs but I used to hurt them. How horrible is that? How evil am I for doing that? I used to stop my friends from leaving my room. By the age of 14, I'd already started having sexual relationships, very carelessly.

When I got to college, I still couldn't stop crying so I went to see the college counsellor, but that seemed to make everything worse.

When I was at Uni, I buried myself in my work, not allowing myself to socialize, working 12 hours a day every day and I wasn't going to be satisfied until I got a first-class degree. Even when I got a first I wasn't happy. I wanted to be the best, to do everything perfectly. I saw the counsellor at Uni too, but I couldn't really talk to her as I was too angry.

When Uni finished, I had nothing to hide behind anymore and that's when everything fell apart. I began working in a fancy dress shop but was so horrible to people, this is when I started to notice my moods swinging and first went to my doctor about these problems. I saw more counsellors but none of them could handle my emotions and passed me on to other people.

Since then, I have been in and out of hospital, diagnosed with BPD last year. I am now in psychotherapy and attend a day hospital twice a week. I am married now after having many doubts about my sexuality. I met my husband in hospital as he has also been a patient there. We were married 3 months later. Six months after getting married, I got pregnant after contraception failed. We both decided the 'best' thing was for me to have an abortion as there was no way that either of us were well enough to have children. I was also told by my gp that if I were to go ahead with the pregnancy, he would have to get social services involved and I would probably have to have my child fostered. I think about the 'baby' all the time and still find the experience extremely traumatic.

There is so much more to tell, but I'd be here all day and I'm sure that if you've read this far you'll be very bored by now. I just felt like writing this here.

Thanks for reading.

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:28 )

Anxious's Story

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I have felt anxious as far back as I can remember. When I was a kid I was very shy. At age 10 my dad was convicted of the attempted murder of my mum. School was difficult after that. When I went to high school I was isolated and friendless. I dropped out age 16 when I fell pregnant. That was 30 years ago. My son is great and we get on well. At the moment I am using a lot of mental health services because I get really low. Over the years I have been married and divorced, in various relationships, in and out of loads of jobs, been to art college. Trying to find some direction in life now as I feel unmotivated, due in part to not working and the (necessary) meds I think.

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:17 )

Budgie's Story

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When I was in my early teens I saw this pair of Nike sports shoes. It was the most beautiful pair of shoes I have ever seen It was light blue in colour, with a dark blue slash. How my eyes twinkled and lightened up when I saw that pair of shoes.

My dad bought me that pair of shoes finally. We were not rich then, it was considered an expensive buy So in order to make the buy value for money. He bought it it a very large size A size that even I cant wear it today.........

Laughable isn't it. What does this all mean? Is this a parody of Life? A happiness that is To be admired, afar or near, but never to be realised in reality?

I have thrown away the unworn pair of shoes. It had worn itself out over the years. In my memory it still remains. But now, a sad pair of a previously nice blue Nike sports shoes. I had been the owner, but never been the wearer of that pair of shoes.

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:17 )

Jodie's Story

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Its funny really…a lot of people say that they have childhood memories…but the earliest I can remember is from when I was about 9 years old and I was at junior school and my whole class wrote letters to my dad who was in the Falkland Isles in the army because I came into school upset because my daddy was going away for 2 years.

Let me tell you a bit about myself…. My name is Jodie I am 19 years old and I live in Swindon. I have been diagnosed with clinical depression about 4 months ago but ive lived with depression for 5 or so years. Life for me used to be hell…when I was 12 my dad came out of the army and Him and my mum split up. Me and mum only moved 2 miles away but it still took its toll on me. Dad became depressed and drunk and in a lot of debt from the divorce…. everything in their marriage was in his name and my mum being the way she is claimed she had nothing to do with any of it. She met Her new boyfriend through work…he also worked on a local radio station so was quite a celebrity so of course being young and innocent she taught me to love him and hate dad. School was a nightmare…I used to get shared between mum and dad I’d spend the weekend from Friday -Sun night with mum on 1 week then go to dad’s Monday night…. then to mum’s Tuesday…. dad’s Wednesday…. mum’s Thursday…then spend the weekend with dad then do the same till I spent the weekend with mum again so I was back and forth all the time….I was the only person in school that had 2 bus passes because I needed to get on 2 buses which made me feel CRAP because I wasn’t allowed 2 and it wasn’t normal to have 2. I used to get in so much trouble for forgetting books and homework because id left it at the other parents house and my mum and dad would never ever make it easier for me if I had forgotten stuff, baring in mind I was only 13 years old…clearly at the height of my responsibilities. I was a nightmare generally as well at school…I was cheeky and rude but not because I wanted to be…because it was how I felt and teachers were my only outlet of my anger…a few teachers picked up on this and I became friendly with them but others just had me moved class. I could never concentrate at school because I was too busy on planning where I was going after school (what house) and what I needed to take with me and I was never truly focused. It used to be embarrassing at my dad’s because I never had any clothes there so I used to have to wear my school uniform out to play because I refused to carry round a suitcase of clothes round at school all day. i also remember a day my dad picked me up from school and tried to kidnap me and take me to his mum’s in Yorkshire.

I must have been about 14 at my first time I cut myself. I was cutting some bread and my knife slipped and slashed open my wrist…at first I was scared but then I realized how good it felt and how I wasn’t crying but smiling…so I took the knife and did it to the other wrist. It was brilliant. I was happy for the first time in a long while, my friend heather saw when we were out playing and she said she had always wanted to cut herself and next thing I know she had started cutting herself too. After that I went down hill really…my dad used to physically and mentally abuse me and it was getting worse and worse so my cutting was the only thing in life I controlled. I started coloring my hair purple and spending all my time in my room when I was at both houses which made my parents more angry with me…they also used to slag each other off too me and make me pass on messages….my dad would purposely leave out letters from debt collectors saying that this was all my fault because I was here and if I wasn’t here he could just go away and leave Swindon and all his debts would go and whenever I said to my mum that I just wanted to spend time with her during the week to make things at school easier for me she said " I need a break from you sometimes…your too much hard work for me to handle and I cant let your dad get off easy without having you" So I got on with it…I was always unhappy and then one day at school I finally snapped…luckily a teacher was near by… and asked me to explain to her what was going on…I said how I was afraid to go to my dad’s tonight because im fed up of him being violent and told her that id slash my wrists open if I had to go there… A friend who lived near the school took me in…my dad went absolutely mental and phoned my mum and threatened to kill us all. The next day I got such a telling off from my mum and she asked me why I didn’t want to go to my dad’s so I finally plucked up the courage to tell her and she told me to stop being so mellow dramatic and I was just making it up…. that sent me on the down hill spiral. After that I decided to trust no-one…I started carrying a knife with me so I could cut whenever I needed too…I used to skip school so I could cut myself and then I’d go into school late but always said I missed the bus. When it came to staying at my dad’s I would drop my bag off after school and return back there at 10pm at night and go to bed…I would never be round him….in my vision that was the only way I could survive.

Luckily he decided to kick me out on my 16th birthday…it was like a god send …of course this caused more uproar because my mum didn’t want me either but she didn’t have much choice. By this time my mum and her boyfriend had got a house together… I was studying for my GCSE’s but not doing a very good job of it…me and my friends were getting drunk every night smoking every night and then I would go home and cut myself but my mum didn’t even care. Luckily my dad had disappeared out of my life and as I left school got a job and started college things looked up. Then my mum decided she wanted to buy a bigger house with her boyfriend 6 miles outside of Swindon…. I had just got my education, career and life sorted and she drops this on me…. I didn’t really think much of my mum’s boyfriend as it was and the fact that he was moving me and my mum away from our friends upset me….I was so upset I would have to get 2 buses to college because I lived so far away….the day after I moved I received a text message from my friend saying that our friend Paul had died. My heart crumbled….a member of my tight social circle had been killed in a car accident and there was nothing I could do…I had spent the last 2 years if my life in this social circle and had become the caring mother figure of our group and now someone important to us had died and I wasn’t there to help anyone and I couldn’t comfort anyone and my mum wouldn’t take me to see my group of friends because she had to watch Eastenders. That pretty much summed up how my mum always felt about it me….like I wasn’t important and she would never put herself out for me…because looking after me was too much of a strain…id never been arrested id never taken drugs but still I was the worst person to her in the world. I was helpless…stuck somewhere where I couldn’t get out of. I was too young to drive so it went back to the cutting and drinking again to be in control.

By this time I had quit college and worked as much as I could but spent the rest of the time in bed…mum just called me lazy and I took no notice. I was always traveling into Swindon on the bus and became involved with a bus driver…he was 32 and I had just turned 18 now….looking back on it now I was so stupid but I thought that he really loved me but it was just sex….rough dirty sex and I later found out it wasn’t just with me…but as soon as I told him about my cutting tendencies he left me. Even a sad old man didn’t want me…to make it worse I had just had a miscarriage on his bathroom floor and he just told me to clean it up so he could take me home. I took it as I normally took things and just dealt with it in my own way…cutting…by this time work had offered me a full time contract so that kept mum happy. I started to get the feeling that my mum’s boyfriend new too much about me and thought that maybe he was messing round with people (girls) on the internet but just got on with life….I met a lovely guy through a good friend at work and my mum excepted him and let him stay over with me (I was 18 and paying rent) but I ended up finishing with him on new years eve 2002 because he was too nice too me and I couldn’t deal with it. At this point I started sleeping around with men and women desperately trying to find myself… I was doing a really good job until Feb 03 when I found that my mum’s boyfriend had a hidden CCTV camera in my air vent in my bedroom and it was linked up to his TV Video and computer…I found this by going in the Study of my house and turning on the TV and seeing my bedroom. I was shocked…I felt so violated…I immediately rang my friends and ex’s that have ever stayed in my bedroom and apologized to them…and luckily a friend (who is now my boyfriend) put me up for the week and gave me a chance to calm down…I then made the decision too move out…I couldn’t stay in that house again…a friend new some lads that needed a house mate so in I moved…I told my mum that I needed to move back to Swindon for work commitments and that was final. there started another path of self destruction…mum rarely called…I had just turned 19 and had the world at my feet (and all the alcohol a full time wage can buy). The lads I lived with worked in a pub in town and drank lots and lived like animals…I wasn’t as bad as them but I wasn’t far off…I became dependant on alcohol and paracetemol and I went walking the streets at 2 am because I could and the fact that if I got killed no-one would no because there was no-one to care for me.

I started to see Paul (my current boyfriend) in May 2003...he knows everything about me and likes me for who I am and has tried to help me settle down and help myself. He gave me the courage to help me confront my mum’s boyfriend about the camera…he just came up with the excuse that he felt like I needed to be observed cos he thought I was on drugs and I had led him too it…and my mum believed him...well of course she would. I moved in with Paul because I wasn’t safe on my own and things were going really well between us…we were starting our own life together but my mum took it on herself to get involved… and to involve my dad as well. I became exhausted with everything going on and trying to please everyone and I ended up collapsing at work…. I was taken to hospital and kept in with stress related pelvic inflammatory disease…I was prescribed some pain killers and whilst my mum dad and Paul were arguing over what caused my collapse I became addicted to these pain killers and placed on anti-depressants…I had never really known too much about anti depressants so I did as I was told and fed myself these tablets (SEROXAT PARATOXINE)…but I didn’t see myself getting better…in fact I got worse and was taking overdoses on pain killers to make myself sleep. My doctor then referred me to the mental health team and now after 15 assessments…29 overdoses…..18 group therapy sessions…seeing 2 consultant psychiatrists , 2 clinical psychologists , with the help of 2 mental health teams and on my third set of anti depressants…this is me !!!! 5th March 2004


Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:16 )

Katy's Story

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I dont have many vivid memories of my childhood but what i do have is not positive, and what i keep digging up scares me even more sometimes. At age 6 my grandafather sexually abused me, i can only recall one occosion this happened but I recal every incy detail about it and i relive this too many times a day. my parents were always arguing as a child, we lived in a good house, all 3 kids rooms were at the back, mum&dads at the front it was big, times. I did gymnastics and was by all fronts a happy child. but even i knew back then that i was sad and didnt know WHO i was or WHAT i was. I remember looking into the mirror even when i was young just staring into my eyes, trying to ask ymself or find out somehow, someway WHAT I WAS? WHO I WAS? if I WAS really ME....I still struggle with that one.

I have a younger sister shes about 3yrs younger, and a brother 11months older. From ago 6-7 till about 9-10yrs old the memories are vague of times but i rmemeber incidents my brother started visiting my bedroom at night. At first he just wanted to sleep with me, said he wanted to be close to me. I know we were only 11months apart we were both kids. After a few months he started to touch me, at first i let him, id didnt phase me too much as wrong as that seems i was 6 or 7 it was new to me too, but i got to the point werei started to feel very ashamed and i told him to stop. HE started comming in more and more every night and started to make me take my pants off and then my undewear, I didnt want to do it but even though he was only a year (11mnths) older then me he was stronger and yes he did have power over me. Most people TOTTALY discount what happened with my brother because of the age, they tell me that it couldnt have been abuse, that its not possible cause he was young too. My father was very secually active and i remember him having magazines and things that my brother would find and hide in his room, i know my brother was reading these (or looking at the pictures) even at age 8-10 psyc now says thats probably were he got his ideas from. I dont disagree with him. My brother came to my room almost every night for the 3 years we lived in that house. Unless i was making an excuse to be out of the house. Like i said at the start it wasnt much, then it got worse, it DID become forcefull, i DID say NO and i did have my underwear ripped of me on occasions, hed push himself against me. I dont remember having full intercourse with him, maybe it happend i dont know but i remebmer lots of things i dotn want to remember adn i DO remmeber saying NO. Isnt this waht makes it wrong?

My parents split when i was 11yrs old and we moved house after a while, dad had had an affair and things wernt the greatest so i think it was the best thing that they all moved, dad was phyiscally a violent person. I dont ever see waht he did to me as abuse but as i recall it now apprently hitting us kids the way he did and yelling the way he did was wrong? but its all i knew so i didnt think so. Id been bad i deserved to be hit.

**On a side note...when i was about 15-16, one day he flatly came out and told us all he was never going to hit us children (my brother, sister and I) ever again, to this day he hasnt...i dont know what happend but im thankfull for that.

Anyway..we moved housse, a tottaly new area. I never had many friend but it took alot to adjust to a new school. I had to leave my Gymnastics Club id been at for over 5years it was the love of my life, i tried to re-join but couldnt get settled, so instability began, i started music, but stpped that too. I got teased alot at school. I made up an imaginary friend at one point to try keep myself comapny. i can not recall the name but i know it kept me company during lunch hrs. What friends i did have i never felt i could trust..cause they always ended up teasing me or dumping me for something or someone else.

I went to highschool and wasnt happy I focused on work work brother had turned 13 (a year ahead of me) and for the years to follow he started taking drugs (we think just majijuana but thier were needels found its never been proven) but his behaviour started to dictate our hourshold, he became verbally abusive and VERY psycially violent, expecially on nights mum would go out and leave us home alone (she had to work to pay the bills or see her friends at times) He would hit us, scream at us, i think my sister got most the phyiscall violence, i mean we always had the brusies, as we got used to it my sister and i used to scream and cry to scare him away, i used to pull his hair cause i knew hed hit me but leave my sister alone, we started to lock him out of the house, their were many times it was terifying. from years 7-9 at highschool i was an A grade student with a frew friends and a few problems but my brother behaviour domianted a constant sadness, my mother wasnt happy either and she knew little of how to raise us espcieally with my brother the way he was.

Half way through Yr9 i got sick and stopped doing anything....I Suddenly didnt go to school, got teased and made mum let me change schools, i went to a Private Catholic School. It was a good thing in the long run but i wasnt prepared for the sudden influx of teasing again. I was never a popular kid. I kept to myself. I went to a new school strict uniform, church requirements, strict teachers it was better for me but i wasnt used to the discilplin. it took the whole first 12 months of kids taunting me, running from me, the NEW girl getting teased till I got some new friends who i thought liked me for me. I still have ONE great friend from school but thats all. I spent many lunch times in toilets just sitting alone or was hard but it felt safer then my old school and i was further away from my brother and my old friends and old problems.

It was at about this time i started to feel even worse, or maybe it was now that i started to NOTICE i was feeling crappy. I started to scratch myself but it never meant much> I remember a time in primary school (aged 9 or so) were a friend and i went along the school fence banging our wrists and seeing who could bruise the most and it felt good to me but she was crying at the end....scratching was the same it felt good but i did it alone.

When i found friends it kinda stopped..but i never talked much> I got to yr 11 (i was 16) 2 years of school to go, my brother has moved out, stolen cars, abused my mother and me and sister more. my sister had got into a good school for smart kids, my brother had moved out and was living in god knows were houses to house, we at once staged had to go to court to get him to stay away from hurting us. I started to withdrawl. i was working part time and was doing great at work full time school and 30hrs a week at my job, anything to stay away from the house but stay busy. I changed jobs half way through yr 11 and went to antoehr one with the same boss ( i had been promoted as far as i could go and i needed a change) Yr 11 went and i felt down and self harmed a little, i started to eat lots and lots too, my comfort..mum was not really helping much, i dont think she knew how. but i was alive, working and staying busy. my new part time job was 1hr from home so i was able to escape for hrs and hrs travling too and from work alone it was a good realse.

yr12 came nad i was a was the final year of school and i had no idea what i was doing. I Studied business subjects (waht my family wanted me to do) I started having panic attacks (at that time i had NO IDEA) what they were..i was haking lots, my best friend stopped talking to me for a time abnd then realised how far down i was going and wrote me letter and we got talking again, i started talking to a teacher about things, i got consideration for disadvantage at school if i needed more time cause i couldnt conentrate or think much. Yr12 passed a bit of a blur sister had moved out to live with dad, my brother had a girfriend that was pregnant and was moving around, mum had a job but wasnt entirly thier but she did wnat she knew. I just floated my resutls at the end of the year was glad it was over but fell in a whole. I still had my job in the city and began using it as an escape, i also used the 1hr trip too and from work to self harm every day. It became routine. I started to scare myself i started to write things and i ended up writing a 12page note/letter and gave it to my uncle in January 2002. (I finished school in 2001 - I was 17yrs old).

A few weeks later my uncle was supporting me and he called a dr and i was put on lovan, it did nothing i was getting worse he called Dr again and then told my mum and then i saw a psyciatrst, i was a week later put in hopsital. I had around 5-6 addmisions to hospital over the next 12months, i left my job, i attempted sucidea many times...i landed in emergency rooms a few times. i was SECTIONED INVOLUNTRY twice one of these was just before chirstmas and i spent christmas of 02 in hospital too yet was not in-voluntry at this time. i was thier cause if i couldnt stay thier i would be locked in again, so the hospital addmisons rose, my first psyc questioned BPD disganoses gave me many meds, anti-d's labeled me depressed and possible psycotic symptoms that im sure i must have had...i dont remmeber much of 2002 but it was fuilled with chaos. I even had my 18th birthday in hospital. Also went for my drivers licene test with my instructor picking me up from hospital.....I got another job at one stage near christmas inbetween bouts of hospital addmissions and overdoses but left that too. In July of 2002 (i was 18) I started talking on the internet alot (*this will explain my fear of net forums and chats and stuff i guess*) but i met a guy, we didnt talk to long, i was young..implulsive and i decided that since we lived close we could meet, hwen he asked me i said yes. it was mid July, we met near a shopping centre *lots of people* then things went bad and i wont go into detail but we ended up back at a motel and i was raped. I remember every detail as if it was yesterday and the memories haunt me every single day, i can see his face and if i drive past it (only done that twice in over 2yrs) I cry and am a mess and cant do it, last time led to more self harm..i am not over it, and never will be. I tried to tell the Dr and he sent me to a rape person and i didnt get any kits done cause i was too scared and didnt go, i did talk to someone at one stage but was toos cared cause i had been threatened to not talk so i havnt really talked to much about it, too scared still.

Jan 03 came around, my brother and his gf had a baby , then in feb i got a new job as a manager at hungry been out of hospital for over a month, i had a second psyc and it felt ok...but not right still. In march i ended up back in hospital for a few weeks, then came out went striaght back to work. In may i decided i needed a change and quit my job and took a job as a NANNY (Au-Pair) in Netherlands. I left in June 03 and spent 2 of the best weeks of my life in Paris with my father then went to start a 12mnt job with a family and thier 3 young boys in Netherlands. I was their for a little over 4 months, we started to argue lots, they saw i was depressed, my self harm esculated, i had stopped eating much and it had become a problem to them that i was throwing up meals. Yes i developed an eating dissorder, while i dont know the whole story behind it as yet I know in paris my father said i was disgusting *ill never forget this* but i know i was over weight adn it suddenly felt like the ONLY THING in my life i could CONTROL and i started to control it with starving myself, and throwing up family meals at dinner time. They contronted me, thingsgot chotic and i booked a plane trip to USA and ended up staying not far from WAShington for 3 months with a close friend. my self harm was bad, i was depressed, i was unstable and i had many more experiences in USA good and bad, the friend i stayed with was like a second mum but a day before i was meant to leave (VISA ran OUT ) she tried to suide and i had to call 911 and it was a mess and i have bad memories of leaving USA, but i do have good memories of SNOW, Thanksgiving< Chirstmas and many other things, just like the good times in paris. Netheralnds taught me lots but i was depressed and came to usa a mess, i left USA on January 10th 2004.

I came home over 30kg lighter then when i left 7 months or so earlier, this raised alramrs for my family and i still battle the alrams cause i am stuck with my ED now and i want to loose more, but thats only part of it!

I came home in FEB I took my job back as an assistant manager at hungry jacks, i was so pleased to have it back. things looked good, my niece (brother daughter) was 1yr old now and i missed so much of her and spent lots of time learning more about her, i was kind of happy. It was so odd being home again but it was like a fresh start, i even stopped me medication *BOMB*

APril 04 came around, i was working 50hrs a week, living with mum again, and it all got too much i took an overdose and after over 12months out of hospital i was re-admited. I took the overdose at work, i dont enve remember why to this day, but i was not too well, but somehow i knew it wouldnt kill me, maybe its cause i needed to cry for help, but deep down somedays i wish it did work. I was stuck in Emergency room for 3 days cause my psyc id had befor i left overseas said i was fine but the hosptial refused to let me be realeased so 3 days later i got a new psyc and was sent to a new hosptial. this psyc is great. he has helped me so much since April alone this year i think ive come further then when i first started seeing drs a few years ago. I stayed in hosptial for 2 weeks, came out adn went back to work. I have defered my uni degree and focus on work entirly. ive had a pay rise already, my boss and i get alone well. I really like my job most days even though it is stressfull and i am alwas sorry for the fact i tried to end it at work, but i have my job and it takes up 50-60hrs of my week but im glad im kept busy. Its my life now and i strive for perfection at work. I see my psyc every friday. After a few meetings in hospital he confrimed the BPD Diagnosis without much of a flinch. He also keeps track on My eating, but im FAT so it doenst matter to him. He is very strict on trying to stop self harm, it has become an issues but also an issue that is getting better, he wants to stop but im getting thier. I also go to a DBT (Dialectic Behavioral Therapy Program) treatment for BPD every friday, it is great and it is helping me lots. So I see the Dr every friday, i havnt attemped to take my life since April this is a big stint for me, spec considering last few years, im rather impulsive, i have issues to deal with but im trying to come to terms with things. After much work i moved out...and i currently live with my brother *Scary as that works some days* but he is 21 and split from his girlfriend still sees his daughter but we both cant live with our parents. Things might change soon but dont know. My life is in turmoil but im working to get it out, i think flashbacks of abuse, self harm issues things like that take time. but ill get thier.

Im working on No self harm...Im working on myself and i hope things get better. I hope...chaos is horrid...

**OMG this has been long..if uve got to here, thanks**

MY LIFE.....Or a Skit of it........


Last Updated ( Wednesday, 19 August 2009 18:15 )
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