A Diary From Noone

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

Tag: #selfharm

Black Girls Don’t Cry… Returns

As a self appointed mental health advocate, I have been fortunate enough to be approached by the BBC a few times throughout my crazy journey of ill mental health and my latest opportunity was being able to share parts of my story via the BBC Radio4 and Made In Manchester documentary, “Black Girls Don’t Cry”. Due to resounding success, it is available once more. It airs January 3rd at 8pm BBC Radio4 but is also currently available on iPlayer. Simply Google, “Black Girls Don’t Cry” or https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b0b9zfws and you shall be able to hear two other brave black ladies as well as myself, share our stories of ill mental health. Catch it while you can. It really gives great food for thought.

Not Alone

NOT ALONE
THIS BLOG WAS INSPIRED BY, “NOT ALONE”. A NETFLIX DOCUMENTARY WITH THIS FEATURED DISCRIPTION…
“An 18-year-old struggling to understand her best friend’s suicide talks to teenagers who have grappled with mental illness and suicidal thoughts.”
In my opinion, this documentary was both moving and empowering, it is honest and straight to the point, not an easy watch but the message is poignant, delicate but loud and clear, as real life people disclose their personal suffering and demons in order to help and encourage others that may experience similar difficulties.
Teenagers in America speak out about mental illness after teenage suicide rates hit the red zone. The documentary was made to break down the barrier surrounding mental health, encouraging teenagers to talk about how they are really feeling, not just by selfies, pictures, emoji’s, social media and texts but urging contact and deep connection. The brave teenagers featured, one of which whom confessed to trying to take her own life only a month before filming, now have aspirations for a full blooming future for themselves. They advise fellow teenagers to reach out, to not be afraid and to seek help and treatment.
Social media seems to have been a huge trigger for the majority of teenagers involved. There is an awful lot of pressure to obtain the most likes/followers/requests in order to feel relevant, included and important rather than ugly, irrelevant, left out or boring. The common misconception of social media is that it enables you to feel connected and part of something, where as in reality; it is just a smokescreen that portrays a filtered and edited sense of self, rather than the full story. Throw in a mix of trolls and cyber bullying and being part of such an apparent simple social network, can quite rapidly turn into a living hell, causing major psychological damage. As if peer pressure wasn’t already gruelling in the days before the internet, now it invades our homes and beyond, constantly on the go with our phones permanently attached to our hands, in this pro technology era, it never stops!
The teenagers encourage others to be pro-active and vigilant about themselves and their friends. Now that is a community spirited attitude. Yet what exactly should one be looking out for? Some symptoms may be overly obvious and alarming, but others can be very subtle and so I would personally advise touching base with your cared for and loved ones, in person, on the regular, as we have already established the smoke screen and mirrors that social media and non-verbal or physical contact can portray. To name but a few symptoms…
• Change in personality
• Withdrawal
• Mood swings
• Lack of motivation
• Lack of interest
• Fatigue
• Over eating
• Loss of appetite
• Self-neglect
• Absence
• Silence
• Dismissive
• Emotional
• Substance abuse
• Reckless behaviour
• Promiscuity
• Self-harm
• Suicidal behaviour
Potential causes for such behaviour…
• Feeling insignificant
• Feeling unimportant
• Feeling worthless
• Low self esteem
• Anxiety
• Depression
• Feeling lost
• Feeling out of place
• Falling out of touch with reality
• Falling behind
• Peer pressure
• Bullying
• Unstable home life
• Isolation
• Feeling stuck
• Hearing voices
• Hallucinations
• Self-loathing
• Insecurities
• Suffocation
All of the teenagers interviewed had struggled in various ways, but they all came to the same conclusion, suicide was there only way out, the only way to stop their troubles and finally be free. They had all tried to commit suicide and yet they all survived. Their paths to recovery were long and most of which were still receiving treatment at the time this documentary was filmed. I think they bravely shared their stories, in hope that others would not have to conquer so many demons before finding help, they were handing out life lines, and this is what they believe will help you escape the spiralling rabbit hole of depression and suicidal behaviour and help you get back onto the right track, in order to reignite dreams, and give you the strength to fight for a healthy and positive future…
• Let someone in
• Reach out for help
• Share your problems
• Accept help
• Acknowledge triggers
• Devise healthy coping strategies
• Accept that you do not have to fight alone
• Find something or someone to fight for
• Be kind to yourself
• Give yourself a chance
• Communicate
• Explore coping strategies, meditation, therapy, mindfulness, yoga, medication, hospitalisation, support networks, talking, being heard
• Take recovery at your own pace
• Breath
This documentary featured real teenagers and young adults openly discussing their mental struggles, I acknowledge that this is not an easy thing to do. I am also personally aware that being at the receiving end of suicidal thoughts and acting out on suicidal behaviour is not easy, nor selfish (a common misconception) but more like, just in that moment an inescapable attempt at finally ending loosing and obliterating a seemingly never ending battle. Having access to real life people, opening up about their real life struggles, through a media outlet as renowned as Netflix, is testament that people are really starting to wake up and acknowledge that ill mental health is a serious and legitimate disability, a life threatening illness. Perhaps the more open we are about the taboo subject of mental health and all of its many symptoms, the less fearful people will be about reaching out, the less ignorant the people around you may be.
Although this particular documentary focusses on teenagers from America, we must not forget that this is a global problem and can hit any one of us at any time in our lives. I am thirty-three years old, I identify with nearly all of the personal accounts in this documentary and have an awful long way to go before my own recovery. It has been less than twelve months since my last suicide attempt. I last self-harmed approximately seven days ago. My main professional mental health support network is slack in most areas and I have reached out countless times, only to be left with no help and in the same predicament. I do not feel like it, and I often wonder why, but I am obviously a fighter and a survivor. Psychosis, hallucinations, low self-esteem, depression, anxiety, dissociation, self-harm and suicidal behaviour are constantly hanging just above my, “Borderline” head but I am still here, and like all the brave teenagers who have genuinely overcome their woes, I hope to myself someday, but for now, it is more important for me to help others. It does not matter where you come from, how old you are, your ethnicity or sexual orientation, we are all human, humans that are susceptible to ill mental health, whether it be one in four or one in three, may your battle be long or short, it is important to be educated and have empathy. It is important to remove all stigmas from the topic of mental health, to no longer be silenced and shushed but to speak out loud and proud and so people can learn. Enough of the misleading headlines and inaccurate babble from online, old book’s and outdated theories, hear it from the horse’s mouth if you really want to learn, if you really want to be part of positive change and help save lives. The knowledge gained from experiences shared is invaluable.
I am genuinely sorry for the millions of lives lost due to ill mental health, and I will continue to share both my story and others, in hope that eventually the numbers of lives saved will outweigh the numbers of lives lost.
Please check out, “No Ones Lounge” via my YouTube Channel, noone adiarfromnoone subscribe for more and if you can, please donate in order for me to keep funding the invaluable messages that will be shared in every episode. Here’s a taster trailer, https://youtu.be/CP7sBZpf7mU and the donation link, https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/noone
“When Life Gets Tough, Please Remember That You Are Not Alone!”
Quote from, “Not Alone” netflix

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

What the actual F###!?

When you wake up thinking that it is just another day and you habitually vape, check your phone for missed texts, calls, social media messages, statements and recorded visits on my various outlets, once satisfied, I usually take my medication and get out of bed and my day officially begins. One of the texts that I received was off a friend, she said that she had listened to one of my poems on SoundCloud and had really enjoyed it, that compliment ignited my artistic fuel and so I decided that the first task of the day would be to record another. Setting up took a while, choosing the right song, a device to play it from, a source to manipulate volume, my words and another device to record. Getting it right took even longer. Once satisfied, I uploaded and shared it.

When I had finished, I was extremely parched and so I went into the kitchen for the first time that day. I was thinking about food but still felt a little sick for over indulging on my diet snacks in disappointment the night before. I was supposed to be going on a date with someone that I had met online and had been conversing with for two whole weeks. He had cancelled the week before, due to a sustained work injury and being the gullible and helpless romantic that I am, I continued talking to him, at least he had cancelled, the guy that I was supposed to date before, had gone AWOL and so for me this scenario was an improvement. Yet unfortunately it got to date day and I had not heard from him to confirm, I started to get ready whilst making up excuses for him, perhaps he was at work with no access to his phone, as we had planned this date throughout the last week, perhaps he felt no need to check in and confirm. Our date was supposed to be at eight. I didn’t want to come across to intense and insecure but had no desire to get ready and go to meet someone who had seen and ignored my WhatsApp texts. In hope I had begun to get ready, but it got to seven and still not a word. I had officially been stood up, once again. I am rapidly becoming to familiar with this scenario! People complain about bad dates and I can’t even seem to get to the first date stage.
It had been a really bad week for me, being stood up of cause stirs the pangs of abandonment and rejection issues that I already have but not meeting this guy was the least of my worries. I had engaged in a therapy session that I had been anxious about attending, I am better at disclosing stuff to females but with the budget cuts, my only option was a male therapist, the session evoked and awakened the voices that I hear that had admittedly been dormant for at least a month. I had recently received news about having to leave my residence and find a new home, the decision felt heavy and premature to me. My depression had me stuck in a rut, unable to be active, shower, change my clothes and get out of my funk, energy levels low and no desire or motivation. On top of that, my psychosis had come back with a vengeance, my anxiety had me in regular panic attacks and my depression in floods of tears, this was prior to the new therapy about suicidal thoughts, actions and hearing voices that I was due to commence. I was cycling on my wonder core smart one night, whilst sobbing my heart out at the same time, what an image. After therapy with heightened psychosis, I couldn’t rest or sleep properly, disturbed by every sound, music, people, constant chatter and noise, unable to distinguish if the noise was universal or just a burden for me.
When I walked into the kitchen, it looked like the remains of a murder scene! Blood on the floor, surfaces and up the walls. I live alone and so of cause, it had to be my blood. I looked at my body for the first time that day, and discovered blood soaked bandages on my left arm and right leg. What the actual F###!? If I can do such detrimental harm to myself and just forget about it, I fear what may happen next time and in the future. I was clearly unwell, having some kind of episode and quite frankly unsafe to be alone. I was shocked, confused, scared, apprehensive and felt terribly isolated. I wanted to tell someone and ask for help but had strong reservations. Why should I drag people that I care about into this mess? Why reach out to people that I think care about me, only to get shunned and turned away. Why be delusional enough to think that anyone would care when I am just a number, another insignificant and weak being on this planet. Why invite my loved ones into this cobweb of a disaster. Why tell the professionals when I know that, that would result in some serious intervention. I did and do not want to go back to hospital, telling them would result in another psychiatric sentence. I decided to tell them once it had subsided as I believe the incident does need to be logged, yet if it happened again, I would have to swallow my pride and say something.
Throughout that day and the night, I kept seeing gigantic black spiders scuttle across the living room floor. Once again, it was hard to try to get to sleep that night with all of the distractions. I felt this animal jump onto the bed and get really close to my face, paralysed, I could not move or scream. I opened my eyes to see what felt like a fury creature, it was a large black cat with a bushy coat. I turned my head but could still not scream. I don’t have a pet, how did it get in? I hate cats. I was scared that it was more likely to be a rat or something. I had to dig really deep to get movement back into my body and turned the light on as soon as I was free. There was no creature to see but I swear that was not a dream, it was real what had happened to me. This time I decided to call for help, I was still bleeding away. The help said that it was a lucid dream, but I would not accept it and confessed how scared that I was. It was arranged to get a call once the office was open. This was only a few hours away. It was suggested that I get some sleep but I couldn’t and sat up writing. The call came just as I had fallen asleep, there was talk of solutions and action and it was decided that all the information would be relayed back to my mental health team Monday morning and to expect a call. It is now Tuesday and still no call, I even tried to phone them and I am waiting for a call back. I think the worst of it is over now but my illness is unpredictable, I would be a fool to believe that my symptoms are over for good. I hope that this new therapy will help me understand such happenings. What scares me the most, is not being able to remember causing great harm to myself and I fear the severity of injury if it happens again.
Living with severe mental health problems can only be described as an intricate, living nightmare. I believe that it has shaped my destiny, which is to use my experiences of pain and suffering to help others and raise awareness, I have been told that I must die to make an impact. Every time that I see or speak to my little sister, this saddens me.

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?

© 2019 A Diary From Noone

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑