One of the hardest things about BPD is the suicide ideation. It can come out of nowhere and for seemingly no good reason. But when it does happen it feels like it’s the only way out. It feels like all options have been eliminated and the list of choices has shrunk to one.
And it can turn on a dime. In the morning things might not be so bad but by the end of the day the feelings and thoughts become so loud and mean and they just get louder and louder until it feels like suicide is the only way out.
I always think something is wrong with me. I always feel broken when I start to think suicidal thoughts. I hate the bombardment that comes over me because it’s a torturous cycle.
My thoughts race through my mind at a million miles a minute, and they are relentless. My mind feels like it’s on overdrive and my emotions feel like they’re on a high speed roller coaster that won’t stop. It leaves me paralyzed, scared, and tired. The thoughts come at me…and I start to believe that I am unworthy and unloved…I start to believe that I am hopeless and helpless and alone…It feels like things will never get better and my life will be plagued by these evil thoughts forever. There is no respite from them.
My mind says…you are unloved…you are unlovable…you are unworthy…you will be left behind…you are a failure…there is nothing redeemable about you…you are flawed…you are broken…you are nothing.
And I wonder…What is wrong with me? Why can’t I do better? Why can’t I be better? Why do I try if all I will achieve is failure? Why do I constantly try to fit in and belong when I should know better, that I am not worthy of better, and I don’t deserve it.
I am manipulative. I am a bitch. I am undeserving and I am alone and that is one thing that I do deserve.
The thoughts pour over me like a waterfall and my emotions are along for the ride on this violent roller coaster trying not to cry or fall off but also wanting desperately for it to stop. My anxiety climbs to its limit pushing me into dissociation and numbness because it’s the only way I can cope with the bombardment.
I am to blame for all that is wrong with me and for all that I fall short on. I am a disgrace and a disappointment.
As these thoughts get louder and meaner I start to spiral down and it could be days or weeks, sometimes months, before it eventually lands me in a dark place of solitude where I start to build walls around me so I can try to keep all the pain away.
But somehow the thoughts and the pain find their way in and now I am in a dark enclosed space with them where they become deafening and I can’t stop crying but I feel powerless to stop them. I try to plug my ears but they work their way into my mind where I have no peace from it all.
And so I think of the only way out and the only way to silence all the mean thoughts and derogatory comments is to die. That dying is the only way to finally have some peace and quiet. Dying is the only way to stop hearing all the mean things, and it’s the only way to get rid of the pain, it’s the only way I can finally get ahead of the thoughts and shut them down for good.
Sometimes it’s not that I want to die as much as it’s about wanting all the thoughts and emotions that overwhelm me to stop, and death feels like that’s the only way it will happen.
Desperate thoughts lead to desperate actions and as much as I wish it didn’t need to go that far, I can’t help that it does. The pain is too great. The thoughts are too mean. The emotions are too much. There is only so much I can take. I hope to get past it without extreme measures but I can’t promise it won’t.