It feels like a lifetime has passed since I had the appointment. It's almost as if it never really happened at all, all that bravery to finally face things head on, face to face seemingly wasted. Everything is still stagnant. Every day I wonder if the postman will drop that letter through my letterbox. The letter that's a copy of what will be sent to others, about me. That she thinks I have many traits suggesting Borderline Personality as well as some traits of Bi-Polar II and III in conjunction with the depression and social anxiety. The letter that will say I'm too broken or maybe not broken enough.
I need this thing to be named, to know that it isn't me nor even a part of me. To know that there still is a me, somewhere.
I don't even know who I am any more. It sounds so dramatic and verging on the ridiculous yet it's true. It's painfully obvious that I'm not just severely depressed. That there's some disorder within my personality. Every day I awaken thinking that today will be the day when I'll find myself again. When I'll be myself again. Yet what if there is no self? what if the past is just different versions of the present. Different suits that this emptiness tries on desperate to be someone, to feel something. I have no sense of 'self'. Who am I? what do I like? I just don't know. I've tried to be so many different things and so many different people and nothing fits. Beyond the obvious physical, I have no idea how to describe myself. How to relate who I am.
I'm tired of shutting things off and shutting things out.
What if there is nothing in the centre? take everything else away only to find there is nothing left?
It's not merely a case of wanting to reinvent myself, the minor and rapid reinventions is just the confused fast paced searching for self, that never stabilises.
I'm running out of places to look. Of people to be. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels like me.