Emotions.

emotion/ɪˈməʊʃ(ə)n/Learn to pronouncenoun

There is something melancholic yet sweet about feeling depressed. As hollow and empty as it makes you feel, there’s always a flicker of light at the end that pushes you to keep going.

I’ve struggled with depression since I was in my early teens. I always felt this sadness inside me that made me feel quiet and disconnected from the other kids. Whenever I was asked to come out and play, I felt so strange compared to all of them. Though I still had this imagination inside me that created so many worlds that I played in, I never imagined I would be fighting demons at 13 years old.

I felt suicidal at that age. I never really knew what suicide was till I read in a newspaper that a kid tried to end their life. I asked my teacher what it meant and she carefully explained that it’s “a feeling of wanting to end your sadness when you feel there is no other option” and I was forced into seeing a child psychologist for asking a question so young. Twice a week after school I would see a lovely doctor who would ask me how I was feeling. How my school holidays were, how my friendships were developing. Though i never really had friends. I would often lie, though she saw through it. When the sessions stopped and everything went back to normal, I started to see things. Whenever I was sat alone at my desk I would hear things and see vivid shapes that seemed to creep up on me. The possibility that it was just an over active childhood imagination seemed plausible but I knew the word psychosis from reading The Silence Of The Lambs in my school library.

Through what I call my ‘dark summer’ it started to get worse and worse. The auditory voices I was hearing were distracting me from my school work and I become withdrawn. My speech became disturbed and confused as I was overwhelmed with the noises I was hearing.

With the repeated beatings I was getting at school, I found myself being able to ignore them as I found having my head kicked in helped ease the sounds I was being forced to hear.

Now at age 27 i find my emotional instability has become much, much worse. My masking has taken over my whole personality where i cannot open up or show the real side of myself to the people i adore. 

I was told that masking to much can be dangerous?… i thought ‘how? its protection’…

It seems once you start to mask your emotions.. it’s very hard to break out of it.

I am completely closed off from my friends/family or anything regarding closeness. The only time i am myself is with my cat Lestat which is strange.

Being diagnosed with BPD ‘Borderline personality disorder’ when i was 23…didn’t surprise me at all. I knew. With schizophrenia that did come as a shock. 

The fact it is considered the most painful of any disorder/illness is saddening.

Because they are right.  

The rage you feel at the smallest thing. The pain with rejection. The reservedness when it comes to love or friendship. When you feel sad, its the single most painful experience you can ever go through. It’s like losing a loved one. Grief. 

There are parts of me that want to scream FUCK YOU to every person who has hurt me. But i can’t.

With me, i am very self aware. Quiet BPD is rarer than most but is mostly seen in women. It causes self destructive behaviour, painful feelings of guilt and self harm. 

I have been hurt and used so many times that it has caused such hate and bitterness in me. I have helped so many ‘friends’ through their pain and then i am ignored for so long till they need me again. It causes a rage that is deep below what is considered hell to the devil. 

I don’t think anyone will see the real me. Which is why i do the work i do. 

Whenever people look at my drawings or photography, i like to think they are looking at little parts of me.