A Diary From Noone

She spoke but no one heard, every scream seemed a whisper, and so she took pen to paper...

Tag: #nhs (page 1 of 2)

Broken Heart

I think the reason why I blog, write poetry, spoken word, music and reach out to people on social media is because I genuinely don’t want people to feel the pain that I do. I reach out to anyone and everyone because I feel like I have lost the contact and love from important people in my life and I try to fill that void by helping others. A heavy heart and tangled brain is a burden that often leads to isolation and fatality. A problem halved is a problem shared, because you need more than one hose to put out a fire.
I have lost friends, partners and family because I suffer from mental illness, BPD and all that sails in her. I have lost a huge part of myself, my dreams, my confidence, reputation because after being constantly bullied, denied/abandoned/banished by my biological father, excluded from family holidays and reunions and you can only pick yourself up and dust yourself off so many times. I can see a world without me in it, way more clearly than I can see a future for myself. I want my own family and their only burden would be to be smothered by my love and baffled by my pride, my husband and children would never doubt my love for them for as long as I live.
When you stop going out and attending social events/family occasions, inevitably the invites stop coming in, so do the phonecalls texts and all communication.
The only comments I receive are about my weight gain, belittling or denying my illness, I receive no love off the people that once gave me so much. Do I embarrass them? Offend them? Do they honestly think self harm and suicidal behaviour is something that I am proud of, that I take pleasure in?
When you come from a working class background and you don’t get private health care, even the professionals abandon you and let you down. I had a mini breakdown last year, because of the disgraceful way that I was treated in hospital.
A family member has said to me, “If you are going to kill yourself, just get on with it and do it!” I tried by the way. At least I know where I stand with that individual.
Life carries on. I think people loose patience with people like myself. The survivors have a strong network of support. So many others leave this world because fighting depression/anxiety/psychosis is like fighting an army and no human is strong enough to combat an entire battle alone. Not even fictional characters like Arya Stark from Game of Thrones! Even her badass needed much help.
I apologise to all whom I have hurt/disappointed/upset since my breakdown 2013. I need you to know (even if you do not understand) I am ill. Would you be able to resent someone with epilepsy? Sounds a bit silly and I am not literally comparing, but sickness is sickness.
I used to reach out alot more before than I do now, because I know that there isn’t really enough help, love and support out there for me from the people that I want and need. I got so confused, at one point I was even reaching out to people from my past, whom were left in my past for a reason, sorry! Desperation is a poorly lit torch. I now understand your side steps.
I don’t need to be ignored, excluded resented by my closest/oldest (long standing) /bestest and feel that I both have been and am being.
I feel like a spare part.
I feel so tired of fighting alone.
I feel like trouble and woes just keep falling upon my shoulders.
I cannot really help myself anymore, I try my hardest to be independent and self sufficient but my demons are often all consuming. I take my medication, accept professional help but it feels like prolonging the inevitable.
Friends come and go in life but best friends should stick around through ups and downs forever.
Partners come and go in life but should I loose my current one I really will explode.
Love is so important and we understand that it should be unconditional, but more often than not, it proves not to be.
Family are your family, blood is an undeniable bond but I don’t expect my third cousin in timbuktu to be there for me, yet I do get disappointed by my immediate family not.
Age is just a number when it comes to dealing with the emotional turmoil that I do, I still need a phone call, an I LOVE YOU, a cuddle, to be held and included. I hate confrontation and so I don’t scream & shout about all this but we all know.
I think people get tired of people like me, I just want those people to know that I do not choose to be this way. I don’t want you to have to tolerate me, feel obliged to be there for me, so I silently let you ditch me but it does upset me and doesn’t help me stay on top of recovery. I have tried to communicate and hint but you are all putting a wedge between us, just please hold on until I am secure with my special someone, I won’t survive on my one.
To my blog readers I am No One, a someone representing everyone and no one in particular, but to a few I should be a special someone, and all this someone wants is to feel loved and secure to fuel the fight and sun away those dark clouds.
So never feel a burden by messaging me guys, together we can silence those terror crys.

No One’s Lounge

Hello readers 🤗 I am absolutely ecstatic and delighted to report that the pilot for my new chat show has been watched over 170 times since it aired on my YouTube channel noone adiaryfromnoone on Christmas Eve. My YouTube subscribers have also almost doubled but I need more of you to click on that red button.
My plan is to host a 10 episode season of No One’s Lounge throughout this year of 2018. I think it is important to be as creative and intriguing as possible, in order to keep people’s attention and constantly raise mental health awareness. This vibrant new show is all about real life people, with real life experience within the realms of mental health and speaking openly and honestly in order to connect with you, the people.
I will not be having a festival this year and so please support me in this project, as generously as you have over the last two years with, A Festival From No One.
If you didn’t catch the pilot or have not yet seen my fundraising pledge, please check out the details below.

https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/noone?utm_source=Facebook

Much love, kisses, well wishes and appreciation to you all. Don’t forget to subscribe as Season1, Episode 1 is being filmed today and shall be aired in due cause. Come with me on this journey, as I fundraise and produce an insightful season of No One’s Lounge throughout the year. See where your donations go as it manifests and please keep sharing, as to broaden my network!?

Xx No One

My Condition…

I have a condition,
I am super skinny,
Fit,
And beautiful.
When I look in the mirror,
My reflection is wrong!
When people comment on my weight,
Their opinions are wrong!
When I get on the scales,
The numbers are wrong!
I am not big boned,
I am strong!
I am not fat,
I am simply perfect!
Every man’s wet dream!
All women are green eyed with envy,
When they look at me!
This is self diagnosed,
And perhaps delusional,
But if I believe in it enough,
It may actually,
Truely become my condition!

The Big, “H”

The corridors are long and thin,
The bright white of the walls,
Make them seem never ending.
People in blue wherever you go,
Always rushing around,
And around,
Everything so fast,
Never slow.
There’s a beep-beep here,
And a bleep-bleep there,
Anywhere,
Everywhere,
Everywhere a beep, bleep.
Not a happy place,
But apparently a safe place,
The best place,
If you have a case,
Of the sicks.
For people who drink backwards,
Liquid flows out of their mouth,
The opposite to what you are meant to do.
For people who are broken,
And need some special glue.
For people who are lost upstairs,
And don’t know what to do.
For people with lazy lungs,
And need machines to get the air through.
A place for the wanderers,
The upside downers,
The drowners that need help to stay afloat,
Secure,
In the magic place of potions and lotions.
They’ll fix you up a gooden,
With a one, two, three,
And so you can get on with living,
And being where you need to be!

Please help me and show your support…

Positive Change is what we need and we cannot rely on change to just happen. We need to instigate it, create it, Push it and make it. Starting small, everything starts somewhere. We cannot ignore or deny the increasing NHS Mental Health budget cuts. As they keep deleting the money, we keep loosing people, it isn’t ideal but we must help because help is needed. Action makes change, not sulking in silence. Please help me raise awareness by sharing www.adiaryfromnoone.co.uk and help me make positive change by donating and sharing… https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/jade-laurie-hart?utm_source=Facebook

Botched Up Bodies…

I have always hated my breasts. They have always been large in size but the bigger the natural breast, the less kind gravity can be. That is a fact. I have always blamed my mother for encouraging me to sleep without a bra on as a teenager, whilst developing. Truth be told, I doubt that notion made to much difference, but it is easier to blame your mum then an anonymous God or fate!
I have always said, that if I win the lottery or come into money, I will be straight down the plastic surgeon’s. Boob uplift, liposuction, laser cellulite remover, the list goes on, the whole shebang! People say just exercise more or eat less. People say an awful lot! The reality is, I can honestly say that all of my ailments are not self inflicted. I do exercise. I eat rather well. Looking back at my pictures in my twenties, I looked fabulous, but even then I was body conscious. People have always picked on me for my weight, even as a child. Those voices are never silenced and will haunt me to the day I die. My issues are not just physical but mental because of being traumatised by criticism about my shape, size, appearance, looks, being dumped by partners or nagged by family members. I never got to truly and confidently enjoy my size when it was rather good. I used to have a natural four pack! I doubt that is ever coming back. One can wish, but actually, I would rather four kids.
Age has of cause played it’s part, like it does upon everyone else, but also depression has ignited comfort eating in the past, I used to sleep eat, sleep walk to the cupboards, snack and wake up feeling sick from poorly digested food and crumbs in my bed. Thank goodness that stopped, but now with BPD, depression, anxiety, psychosis, I have to take an awful lot of medication to steady my mood and weight gain is a side effect.
It is no secret that I self harm. I believe this makes me a little less screamish then most, but watching the inspiring weight dropper Josie Gibson under the knife on celebrities botched up bodies, the surgery really made me feel sick. Josie was asleep through all of it and woke up looking great but I am now in two minds. Not like I can afford surgery anyway but it has definitely opened my eyes to the seriousness of cosmetic surgery. Surgery is surgery and always life threatening.
I suppose that if I was fortunate enough to truly make a decision, under the knife or not under the knife, I am single and thirty-two with suicidal tendencies, if I am going to die, I wouldn’t mind dying whilst trying to look hot. I would wake up hot or wake up not. Chances are, it would be the first, then maybe I could find a man to love me, in this cruel, judgemental and shallow world that we live in. Most importantly, after thirty-two years of failing, maybe, just maybe, I could learn to love myself. I have a lot of love for everyone else but have never loved myself. If nothing else, it would be great to embrace that feeling.

Struggles With Voices Are The Worst!

When you are down, low and insecure, there is nothing worse then the added pressure of hearing voices. For the reader’s that have never experienced psychosis, imagine wanting complete quiet but you have two people shouting into each ear at the same time, plus the radio on full volume, the TV on full volume and the piercing sound of all electricity, the lights, heating, just a volcano of noise that you cannot control or ignore. Plus everything being said is critical, condescending and demanding of you. That is the best way that I can describe my experience of hearing voices. It is agonising and can lead to catastrophic consequences’. I may be happy one second and then like a smack in the face, it can all come on and all at once. I can have the cleanest diet, be alcohol free, exercise daily, distract myself with music, poetry, TV, whatever. I could go on a heavy night out, drink all night, socialise and dance. I can be stuck in bed for days. I keep trying to diagnose my own triggers and think that is where I am going wrong. Such symptoms are simply part of my illness, what I do does not determine a relapse, it is just the nature of my illness. I take my medication, communicate with support but neither or are cures, they are just put in place to decrease such symptoms, not eradicate them. This is an acceptable theory upon reflection but not helpful at all when in the moment. I just want to switch off for a bit.

Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Swish!
Swash!
Swish!
Can you hear it?
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Buzzzzzzzzzzz!
Swish!
Swash!
Swish!
Can you hear it?
I can!
I am sick of it!
It’s not as it may seem,
The noise I mean.
It is like tuning into a radio station,
Before they went digital!
Nonsensical sound waves,
They then commit,
Translate,
And strongly exist…
Listen to me!
Listen to me!
Oi,
Jade,
Listen!
Seriously,
Can you not hear it?
I can!
It goes on and on,
And on and on,
Intense,
Overpowering,
Tightening,
Instructing and demanding.
I hear it!
I cannot turn it down.
Where’s the mute button?
The stop button.
They say they will,
If I succumb.
You are insignificant!
You are unworthy!
You are vermin!
You have the stench of death about you!
People would be better off without you!
You are no one special.
Pigeons are like Rats with wings,
You are like a rat with two legs.
A pest!
Get over yourself,
Everyone around you,
Strangers that meet you,
Loved ones too,
They don’t want you,
You know it’s true.
Darkness and gloom seeps in and out of your nostrils,
What you inhale is pure,
But release is deadly!
So I unwillingly spread darkness?
Make it stop?
No one wants you around,
It doesn’t have to be said!
Just read between the lines,
You are an unwanted inbred.
No one wants a burden,
You’d be better off dead!
You can try to keep up.
You can try and beat it,
Defeat it,
But is there any point?
Weighing people down,
Bringing people down,
Drowning and gagged,
Sinking deeper and deeper,
Let go and release them,
Everyone and thing you touch ends up in disaster,
Your darkness spreads like fire!
So let them all go,
Or they’ll all burn with you!

Therapy

A lovely someone sent me a link about the best way to support someone with BPD. It revolved around validating the individuals feelings, emotions, actions and reactions. It encouraged patience and empathy. As someone with BPD, my world is very isolated, as it is for most people with secondary level mental health problems, which is exactly why I selflessly write poetry and document my thoughts and experiences via my blogs, to engage, validate and show empathy towards the many people out there suffering and that feel alone.
I feel depressed, teary, stuck, lost, insignificant, frustrated, isolated, misunderstood, a burden, worthless and helpless every single day. I am self destructive, self harm is my biggest problem and suicidal thoughts linger around me constantly. I worry that if I communicate and reveal this to the professionals, they may admit me into hospital, which has kept happening once or twice a year since 2013. From my experience, mental health professional’s believe acute ward’s are not the answer for someone with BPD, which I believe to be an inaccurate theory as they cannot tarnish us all with the same brush. It just cannot be so black and white! If I am at risk to myself, of cause a safe place such as a hospital with twenty-four hour care is the best place to be. The only alternative is daily half hour visits which rapidly decrease and then you end up seeing a community psychiatric nurse every fortnight. There seems to be nothing in-between, no happy medium. If I tell my loved one’s, I worry them, upset them, confuse them and somewhat push them away as they are not equipped to take on the heavy load of problems that I undergo. I personally find helplines’ pointless. The NHS home treatment crisis line is always busy, inundated with many fellow sick people reaching for help. The longest call back time that I have experienced to date, was three whole hours. In that time the damage I feared had already been done.
They say that the best remedy for my personal mental health problems are medication (which I do take religiously)and agree that they help, and therapy. DBT (Dialectal Behavioural Therapy) was designed for people with BPD. Unfortunately it is very hard to come by. To my knowledge, in the city that I live in, you can only get DBT if you opt for private care. Unfortunately I am not lucky enough to be able to afford private care, and so I am stuck in this unhealthy merry-go round of ups, downs, highs and lows, my life hindered by anxiety, depression, psychosis, emotional instability, feeling trapped and misunderstood.
Despite feeling let down by many mental health professionals and the NHS care provided, I don’t want to live the rest of my life the way that I have been these past three years. Therapy has been suggested as a method of care. I had a therapist who performed psycho-dynamic therapy upon me for almost twelve months, first once a week and then twice a week. Unfortunately she suddenly passed away. I was then reluctantly catapulted into a group therapy where I was deeply misunderstood, it made me feel helpless and lead to some serious self destruction. I was then asked to not return, rejected and abandoned once again. This was over a year ago. I believed that I was on some kind of waiting list, I didn’t push or pursue the matter as my experiences were so sad, so bad, so detrimental towards alot of my relapse’s, I was in no hurry to try it all again.
Following my last relapse and hospital admission in May 2016, I came to discover that I had been taken off the waiting list. There has been alot of inconsistent information thrown my way since my discovery, confusion about where I may have my therapy, what therapy, do I even need therapy? The issue is still to be resolved, but if I hadn’t had my relapse, I would have still been silently waiting for contact that inevitably was never going to come!
I have always been very adamant about having individual therapy from a female therapists. I had an assessment two weeks ago, with not one but two male therapists in a rather small room. I felt judged and anxious. I have no recollection of what I said within the one hour and a half appointment but I felt uneasy and like I had failed. It felt like I had just talked my way out of a job. I felt that my intelligence, past success and vocabulary made them analyse me quite intensely and it did not go in my favour. I hope that they remember that ones achievements do not counter their mentality.
I am now anxiously waiting upon some kind of answer or report. I asked them to watch my, “BPD” vlog on my YouTube channel because what I said and how I felt whilst filming that at 4am at my parents house for sanctuary, most likely describes me better then I did in that tiny room with two male strangers. My fate is in their hands, I shall report all as soon as I am informed. Please see my BPD vlog below and watch it and share it, if you may?

Mental Health “Care”

I am by no means a veteran of mh hospitals but I have stayed in four, both in London and Birmingham, over the last three and a half years. In regards to atmosphere, Oleaster’s Melissa suite is by far the best. This time I found, “The Venue” extremely beneficial, it is basically a room and court yard off the wards, all inpatients are welcome and they provide varied entertainment all day, everyday. On the ward, I kept myself to myself, from experience making friends in a mental health environment is not wise, if not eating in the communal area, I would be in a side room playing guitar ? or in my room blogging, www.adiaryfromnoone.co.uk but I met some very like minded people in the venue, people that also carried note books everywhere, people who also wrote poetry and lyrics, people who played musical instruments, people who wanted to sing and jam with me. The staff were non judgemental, accommodating, non invasive, helpful and detrimental towards my crisis recovery. Since being discharged, I would have loved to continue going for support and something positive to do. It was not explained to me that once discharged from home treatment, I would not be entitle to attend, if I knew, I would have been lots of times by now, I would have taken advantage of the opportunity. My options were not made clear. I asked for a referral, thinking that I could enjoy the venue as the next step to recovery after home treatment. Unfortunately because of where my general doctor’s is situated, I am not entitled to attend the venue, I have to go to the day centre at the Zinnia Centre instead. Logistically the decision completely makes sense but my feelings and well being have not been taken into account. I found a place of Zen and it deeply saddens me that I can not go back again! The decision has left me feeling angry and emotional, especially as it wasn’t made clear and explained to me these last few weeks, I could have at least utilised a bit of time there. My only other complaint is that staff need to be trained up on how to sensitively yet professionally handle people with BPD. I think that the illness is completely misunderstood and therefor handled incorrectly. If you have been admitted to a psychiatric hospital, it has not been decided lightly, there is a national shortage of beds, if you have been allocated one, you definitely deserve to be there and should be treated accordingly. I was told, “People like you should not be here”. That statement was an inaccurate matter of opinion. My time in hospital definitely helped me get through crisis.It’s all over the internet, people with BPD, feel Ike they are dismissed and not taken seriously by mh professionals, but BPD is often not the only illness that people suffer from and if you have been allocated home treatment or admitted into a psyche ward, it is mostly because of the patient being depressed or under heavy psychosis or a danger to themselves or all of the above, therefor acute admission is beyond necessary.

But What is BPD?

Are you better now? You look well? Are you doing well?

Unfortunately I am not better now! I spent twenty-two day’s in hospital, and yes I got discharged, but please do not be under any illusion that I am now well. I was ill before I went to hospital and still ill when I came out, I just got through a crisis under supervision and twenty-four hour care, without it, I would not still be here but don’t be fooled, it has happened before and it will most likely happen again. My struggles are not over. Good make-up and hair only disguise what is really going on inside, of cause I look well if I have spent two hours grooming and getting ready before venturing outdoors, most days I am at home, make-up free, messy hair and stuck in my pyjama’s.
BPD is not the common flu or a cold; it is a deep rooted mental health illness and something that (although for a long time, unbeknown to me) I have had for most of my life, if not its entirety.
These are the worries, feelings and emotions that I personally go through every single day but try to suffer in silence;
• Can’t see forward
• Irrational
• Distrust of anyone who says that they like or love me
• Self-Conscious
• Intense empathy for others but not myself
• Day to Day/Hour/Hour highs and lows
• Low self-worth
• Helpless
• Unable to connect with or accept any of my, “Positive Traits”
• Impulsive
• Self-Destructive
• Suicidal
• Fear of abandonment
• A bad judge of character
• Numbness
• Misunderstood
• Unloved
• Unwanted
• Beyond help
• Isolated
• Alone
• Unable to sustain positive relationships
• Unable to recognise the difference between good and bad relationships
• Unworthy and distrusting of love from friends and family
• Self-Loathing
• Feeling left behind
• Feeling stuck
• Feeling betrayed
• Feeling all good odd’s are stacked against me
• Undesirable
• Scared
• Hopeless
• Helpless

Where does all of this come from and why does it happen? In order to get diagnosed with BPD, you need to suffer from at least five out of the following nine symptoms. I unfortunately tick all of the boxes. The symptoms are as follows;

• Abandonment issues- False promises, if people go AWOL, getting cancelled on by people or if an event that I have planned to go to doesn’t happen, it is the end of my world.
• Unstable and intense relationships- Fall in love extremely quick, fall out of love but feel better as part of a two instead of being alone, worry about love being unreciprocated, tolerate cruel behaviour.
• Identity disturbance- Shift of idea’s thoughts and personality. Big thoughts, dreams and ideas, followed by fear of failure, low self-esteem, low self-worth, no confidence.
• Impulsivity and self-damaging- Over spending, substance abuse, promiscuity, reckless behaviour, self-harm/mutilation.
• Recurrent Suicidal Behaviour- No regards to others or rational thinking, all is black and everything hurts so much, you lose all regards to life.
• Mood swings- constant up’s and down’s.
• Feeling Empty and Lonely- Disconnected to the world, all living things and myself.
• Anger and aggression towards others or one self- A loss of control, all morals and principles dissolve and in the moment a lot of damage may occur.
• Stress Related Paranoia- Psychosis or impulsiveness leads to uncontrolled dissociative behaviour.
Everyone has mental health, just like everyone has a heart; they are both as crucial and integral as each other when it comes to life and living. Some people’s hearts and mental health may not function as well as others!
BPD is actually a very common illness, even celebrities both past and present have apparently suffered from it, research suggested Tennessee Williams, Marilyn Monroe, Lady Gaga (don’t quote me) but it is not as well-known as other mental health illnesses like Bi-Polar or Schizophrenia for example. If people do get into contact with it, it is very misunderstood because of the varying emotions, the symptoms are fast and rapid and so therefor without a complete understanding of the illness it can come across as intense and most probably frustrating. I know that mental health professionals find it so but that is because they are just as clueless as Joe Public. I have said it before and will say it again, people that work in mental health need to understand the patience and sensitivity required when dealing with someone with BPD., they have no excuse, but I can understand when regular people outside of the profession find the illness extremely overwhelming, but all I can say to that is, try walking in my shoes!
From a demographical point of view, if we label the number one as extreme depression and number ten as complete euphoric mania. The average person fluctuates between four and six. Someone with Bi-Polar may have long periods of nine and then long periods of two and not much in between. Someone with BPD may go up and down the entire scale, rapidly in short amounts of time and may feel only numbness in between.
The truth is I am fighting every day. I fight the urges of self-destruction, if not for myself then for my loved ones. The same loved ones that have absolutely no idea how hard it is for me to get through every single day, I don’t blame them, it is not their fault, if I don’t communicate, how can I expect them to know and understand. There are preconceptions, age, heritage and logistics to contend with and I don’t have the strength, I don’t have all the answers to help them help me. When I am irrational, I get so angry with people but I take it out on myself. I get convinced that no one cares, that I am unworthy of affection, love and care off others. I feel completely left behind, others flourish whilst I diminish and that seems to just be the way life goes at the moment. I can’t see things getting much brighter for me but I write to make others happy, to educate, to allow people to identify and not feel alone, to give others hope. I am so pleased to have developed this skill of writing therapeutically, writing the truth and helping others.
If any readers know me personally, please just say hi to me now and again as it means so much. You don’t need to ask how I am, you are not a therapist and I am not your client, we don’t need to be so heavy, just saying, “Hi” lets me know that you appreciate my existence. If you share the details of my blog, www.adiaryfromnoone.couk or follow me on twitter, @adiaryfromnoone follow my facebook page, adiaryfromnoone and actually click the links, read what I have to say, I do keep note and knowing that I have accomplished views is about the only thing that makes me acknowledge the possibility that I may indeed actually have some worth. If sharing my pain and suffering helps others out there with an even smaller voice contend with their issues, it is worth it. So please keep reading and sharing, accompanying me on this roller-coaster-ride of BPD express.

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