So I’m alive in case anyone is wondering not even sure if anyone still uses tumblr. I’ve been busy with life stuff that has ended with me no longer able to work.
I got back into art and will post them over the next coming days but if anyone is interested you can view all my works over at deviantART https://www.deviantart.com/jackdawwishes
Check out JackdawWishes's art on DeviantArt. Browse the user profile and get inspired.
I have spent a long time trying to write this out as it is something very personal to me. There are certain people I want to read this but I am unable to tag because they have changed blogs or I am blocked.
But over time I have came to understand my actions, actions some people have seen as crimes. I have been blamed for things I didn’t do, called things I am far from being, labelled things I am and will never be and it’s time I come out and have my say as I have lost people that were so important to me because they believed the words of those who were insignificant over those who needed to be heard.
My name is Charlene Osborne and I have Borderline Personality Disorder and this is my story.
Years and years ago when I was a little girl I was born into a world where my father was always away and my mother and grandmother raised me mostly on their own. We traveled a lot when I was growing up, I never had a chance to make friends, I never got a chance to settle as when we did we were moving again. I have lived in Cyprus, Germany and many places in England and N.Ireland but the one that always stands out to me the most is Cyprus. Why?
Because that was the place where I was first molested. I don’t even remember how old I was I just know this guy that was babysitting me, my brother and sister, was a friend of my dads. He was looking after us while my parents were out celebrating their Anniversary. He showed me things, touched me in places that I felt proud of. He said I was a woman now and when I told my parents I was proud.
I quickly learned that I was wrong. I remember my dad leaving the room and the next thing I knew we were moving again. But here’s the kicker.
My dad was in the army and the army did nothing about my assault. They swept it under the rug. I was made to feel as if I didn’t matter. That what I had been through was not important. I still feel like that. I have always felt like that. I have always felt like I was never listened to, that I was never important, that how I felt and what I went through didn’t matter.
People told me they were there for me, that they supported me and yet in the times I needed them the most they were never there.
We finally settled here in N.Ireland where I re-started primary school. I was put in the wrong year. I never fully went through the proper protcols for Primary school. I was always in P1-P3 and then P5-P7 to High school, to College and to University. I never had a full stable education because we always moved. I never had any friends because we always moved and when we finally settled and things started to look up they got worse for me.
Why you may ask? Because I was molested, assaulted and raped by my father for nearly all of my high school years. And before you ask no I don’t blame my father, I love my dad. I forgave my dad. I do not believe in holding grudges, I am not the type of person to do so. Life is far too short and so I forgive and I move on. Or I at least try to move on.
Nobody believed me you see. Not my so called friends. Not my family. Nobody. My dad’s side of the family wanted nothing to do with me. My Dad’s dad, my grand father didn’t even want me at the hospital when he was sick. At his funeral I was made to sit in the house. I sat in my grand parents house, the house my dad had grown up in alone because I wasn’t allowed at the funeral. I was alone. I have always been alone even as I type this I am alone. But that was not my darkest days, no. No my darkest moment was when I lost my best friend. But I will get into that later.
You would think after being abused twice and moving around a lot that things would maybe look up for me. No.They got worse.
I was bullied in school, both primary school, secondary school, College and University. I had my hair set on fire, I was followed home and had cow shit thrown at me. I had rocks thrown at me, food thrown at me. I lost a friend to cancer and I was made out to be a liar, he was my only friend and on the days that I snapped and fought back I was the bad guy. I was the one that got in trouble. Again I was not heard, I was ignored. My abuse came out when I confessed to a so called friend who straight out didn’t believe me and I snapped. The once quiet English girl became loud, vocal and hurt. My so called friend told the teacher what I had said after I had stormed out of the class room and the teacher then alerted the head master even though I pleaded with them not to. The abuse came out, my mother blamed herself and social services became the biggest pain in my ass since puberty. But through all that I forgave my father. I forgave him and he came home and our bond now is the closest it has ever been. Of course he denied everything and that bothers me but at the same time he is my father and I love him. I love him as much as I love my mother, my brother and my sister. I love them and yet I feel like they do not love me. They say they do but I don’t believe them, there are times I know they do and yet still do not feel it. I struggled with depression, suicide and an endless amount of tantrums and pleads of being noticed. For somebody to hear that I was not okay. In the years I have been alive I have tried to kill myself 22 times.
That is 22 failed suicide attempts and you know how many were picked up by my parents, by the doctors?
2.
I took myself to A&E on countless times I had tried to kill myself, regretting my decision and they never picked it up. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what was wrong. I wanted to them to ask me and they never did. They never noticed.
Nobody noticed. So I would do it again.
I just wanted somebody to notice that I was not okay and till this day I am still not okay. I did not understand what was wrong with me. There were days I was happy, confident, so full of life and other times where I just wanted to scream, to kill, to maim, to hurt and times when I was on top of the world and times when I felt buried by the world. I felt so out of place, that I didn’t belong in this life, that I was out of time and only now I know what that feeling is. I wanted to scream and be heard and yet be silent at the same time and be ignored. I couldn’t decide what was right and what was wrong. If people ignored me I lashed out, if people were kind to me I latched onto them as if they were my very reason for breathing.
I had many boyfriends. Some just because I was bored and others because I just wanted attention. I had relationships that were abusive and others that were just plain boring. I had a relationship were I was raped and a relationship were I didn’t realise I was in a toxic relationship. He treated me like I was just his play thing. Always seeking his own sexual release and never caring about my own. He broke up with me because he was scared of hitting me. I told him to never talk to me again and I have not heard a word and the longer I have been out of that relationship that more I now understood it was abusing me. He was manipulating me and using me and I feel....Okay.
It’s strange, you would think I would be angry but I’m not I’m just okay, maybe even numb. I thought I loved him, I thought I loved many of the guys I was with but that was nothing to what I felt for a woman that I cherished so much.
Many of you on here knew her as @padfooting-around she now has a new blog that I do not know. She does not speak to me anymore all because of some petty human beings thinking I was capable of hurting her in such disgusting ways.
We met on Tumblr, I joined a role play group, a Harry Potter one and she guided me and helped me through it and we clicked. We grew and omg she was amazing. We bonded and for the first time in my life I had a friend.
I, me, the girl who had been through hell, had a best friend.
I felt so lucky, I had hit the jackpot and yet at the same time, as time went on, I felt like I had been given a bomb.
She had her own problems and oh god I tried to help her, I really did. I did everything I possibly could to make sure she was safe, secure and happy. If she was happy, I was happy. She stood by me, she believed me about my abuse and when my mental health started getting bad she stood by me.
Well...For a short time at least.
My mental health was getting so bad that I couldn’t see the good any more. I was lashing out at the people I cared about, I was toxic, I was a horrible person and I didn’t care who I hurt and she was one of them and so in a way to try and cope with things I stepped away. I stepped away from people I cared about that I didn’t want to hurt and cut contact. I had to sort myself out because how was I to help anyone if I could not help myself?
I was dangerous, not just to myself but to others because I was toxic. If you didn’t agree with something I said or if I didn’t like you I would make your life hell and I hated myself. I apologised of course when I realised my mistakes and I have made so many mistakes. Some I just don’t know how to deal with anymore and it got to the point that me and Emma...We were no longer friends, that bond I cherished so much was gone. She had her own problems, she tried to deal with things in her own way and I hated her for it. I was so angry and yet I was happy. I had told her for ages that she needed to cope on her own and she did it and I was so bloody proud. I was that proud that I went over to Scotland to surprise her and things felt right. Things felt normal and words cannot express how happy I felt.
That didn’t last long.
I still remember that day as clear as anything. I had been sitting on her bed, happy, role playing and then my mind just switched. It was like somebody had just flicked a switch and all I wanted to was to die. I wanted to die, I wanted to be dead and I wanted to die right there and right now. These feelings were so intense, they were scary and I was terrified and I was screaming and no words were coming out. My body was not my own and I went to over dose only Emma stopped me. I remember her putting her hand on mine and coming back to reality and I felt so ashamed. I felt so scared, so guilty, so terrified that I had let her down. I was so scared of telling her the truth that I lied and the lie I told was the worst thing I could have ever said and the guilt from that lie I still feel today.
I told her I had planned it, that I wanted to come over to a place I felt safe, loved and secure and end it all.
It was a lie, that was not my plan. But that was what came out of my mouth. I don’t know why I said, maybe I was scared. Scared that she, like so many others, would ignore me. That again I would not be heard.
But guess what....
That’s what happened anyway.
Things went downhill. I returned home and my mental health got worse. I had no control, I was screaming for help in anyway possible and I was triggering people. I became a trigger and the fear I felt over those few months has stayed with me till this very day. I don’t know how to explain it. It felt like I was standing in a room and all the walls were closing in that every single person in the world was screaming in my ears, that every single person’s guilt and shame of me was pressed against my shoulders and I couldn’t carry it anymore. So I snapped but I snapped in a good way.
I found help and I decided that the best thing for me was to take myself offline for a little while and get myself sorted out. I was proud. I went home and sent a message to role play group I was a part of and told them. Only then things turned nasty and this is something I have spoken about before and it still sits with me.
This rp group had been getting hate. Every rp group I had been got anonymous hate and this group I was in, the same group Emma was in, was getting hate. Horrible messages that even I got and I got blamed for it. The day I had finally decided I was going to get help turned into the day I lost my best friend. The day I lost one of the most important people in my life. These hate messages were blamed on me and I never got a chance to defend myself. I was cast out, blocked and ignored. I tried to fight, tried to shout my defense and yet I was ignored and so I turned to Emma, pleaded with her to not believe it and yet...
She didn’t believe me. Nobody did. Yet again nobody believed me. I was ignored and nobody would listen. Every single day of my life hit me all at once and I felt like I had no way out. So I took every single tablet I had available and hoped for the best.
I woke up the next morning still in my bed and eyes red from crying. I felt fine. No, I felt numb and then I felt angry. I told Emma to never speak to me again. I lashed out, I lashed out and I became so hostile my pets suffered and that day still gives me nightmares. That day still haunts me and today, a time where I am recovering and my pets are healthy, happy and so looked after I am still haunted by that time. Emma once told me that no matter what she would be there for me and when I was having a mental break down she wasn’t. I gave everything I had into our friendship. I felt like I was her reason for living and yes I hated the pressure but at the same I liked it because it meant she got to live and she deserves to live because she is such an amazing person. Yes we had our ups and downs but as I said before I don’t hold grudges and sure we don’t talk now but I still think of her. I still wonder if she is okay, I still wonder if it would be weird if I just surprised her again. I still wonder if it would be weird if I sent her a birthday card or a Christmas card. Yet then I get reminded of how I spent so much money trying to get her to stay my friend. Because that’s what I do. I try and buy people to get them to stay with me because I am terrified of people leaving me. Abandonment is something that makes me so afraid that I would literally do anything and everything in my power to try and keep them in my life and that in itself is what drives them away and that just makes things worse.
Emma wasn’t the only one I drove away. No, I drove plenty of people away. People that don’t exist anymore, people who have moved and some people who I have reconciled with.
Sharon. Michael, Seamus, David, Kirsty, Lisa, Jameen, Daniel, Leah, Jamie, Greg, Gareth, Brad, Saricha....The list goes on, there are so many people and Emma is just one of them and yes some of them I have reconciled with, others I still class as toxic people but they are still people. People I still think about every day, people I try and think of a way to fix things and make every thing better again and yet don’t have the courage to do it.
My therapist has told me that’s my BPD, that’s my abandonment issues, that’s my fear of letting go because if I let go it means I’ve lost and I don’t like to lose. Yet I have lost so much.
I have lost people I loved.
People I cherished.
People I supported.
People I fought with.
People I worked with.
People I danced with.
People I slept with.
There are so many people and I think of each and every one of them. Why? Because even though we don’t talk they are still important to me, they are important because they were part of my life. They are part of my recovery and they are still a part of my life and yes I should probably let go but then what? If I let go I won’t get them back. I won’t be able to fix things, I won’t be able to make things better and show them that I’m a better person now, that they are still important to me.
Yet that’s the problem isn’t it, the letting go. You have to let go to move on and that is the part I am stuck at. I can’t move on, not yet.
Why?
Because I haven’t been heard yet and it’s time people hear me. It’s time people know that I’m not the monster some have painted me as. I’m not the trouble maker, the attention seeker, the troll, the hater, the stalker, the liar, the bitch people have made me out to be.
I am a person, who although has been through hell all of her life, is still trying to find a way to make everything alright again.
Isn’t that worth something? I don’t know. Maybe I am just crazy. But right now I am alone, I am tired, I am scared and I am crying because I am alone.
And you know what, I think I’m starting to come to terms that maybe that’s not a bad thing after all. Maybe I’m better off alone, maybe people are safer without me in their lives. There is no on and off switch with me. I either love you or I hate you. I either worship you or I detest you. I either want to kiss you or I want to kill you. That’s just the way my mind work, that is my BPD and that is the part of me that people don’t seem to be able to deal with. They say they will support me but when I need them to, when my BPD is at it’s worst, there is nobody there.
And I’m starting to accept that, that is how my life is going to be. I will, forever be alone because I am unloveable, I am not someone you want as a friend, as a girlfriend, as a partner, as a colleague as anything...Because I can’t control how I feel, I can be out of control one moment and completely sane the next and that is where the problem lies.
There is no in between because nobody has managed to stay with me throughout the whole thing.
Sorry I’ve not been around. I’ve been taken my ballet studies pretty seriously and have been so focused on that, that I’ve not been around. I’ve also mostly been on my maxwell-roth blog, there is a bigger update over there about stuff that’s gone on.
But things are looking up for the most part, somethings are still shit. I’m still having major financial difficulties but things have gotten a little better since my last post.
I’m very rarely on this blog but I’m not going to delete it because I love this blog and I love the theme so I’ll be here and there now and again.
But for the time being the top three photos are the most recent ones. My extension and lines are really starting to become more prominent and I love it. Ballet is honestly my refuge and it’s been a huge help to my mental health. Honestly without ballet I don’t know how I would cope. I love to dance and that has gotten recognised by the guys at Wear Moi. I’m not even joking. One of their General managers follows my you tube channel (I’m deadly serious, I have proof of this as he emailed me the most amazing email) and has really shone a light on my life. A light I really needed and so the next post on this blog will probably be about that. But for the time being I hope these photos that I’m most proud of will do for now.
Thanks for sticking with me guys, I really appreciate it.
I’m still here, just about. I actually forgot my password for this blog so tumblrs “it’s time to change your password” came at a right time. Suppose anyway.
I don’t know if I’ll be keeping this blog as I’m mostly on @maxwell-roth and @of-silver-and-gold so you can get me there. Any threads I had with my only an ocean apart blog are gone as I’ve deleted her.
I honestly don’t know if I’ll keep this account. Life has been shit.
Me and my sister are no longer talking, I’m erasing her out of my life as she has became a huge trigger for me. I got attacked my dogs and she didn’t care, somebody close to home reported me to animal welfare and the reason I know it’s close to home is the fact the welfare officer knew about the ferrets I have and how many there are and what there names were. So it was either my sister or her bitch of a best friend who is seriously the most selfish, snot nosed useless human being to ever walk this earth. I’m not even joking. She’s been talking to this guy for like a few months and she’s already moving over to where he lives. Which is Italy by the way? WHO DOES THAT? Idiots that’s who.
Anyway, on top of all that my mental health has literally gotten really bad. Nothing is helping anymore and suicide is sitting right there. The only thing stopping me is my pets and if I lose them...Well...
The one good thing that did happen was that the welfare officer even said herself that this was clearly a vindictive malicious attack against me as she could see how well looked after my pets were and the fact somebody would do this to me has really knocked me down and it is certainly somebody close to me....This happened the day after I was attacked by dogs. I was walking back from taking my two dogs for a walk and these dogs that were outside my house came straight at us and I was so busy trying to keep my dogs safe that I ended backed in a corner. You should see the scratches, marks and bruises on my leg from where I was trying to fend them off.
So in this whole month, this is what’s happened.
I lost my job
My mental health has gone fuck you.
Me and my sister are no longer talking because she literally does not care about me, she admitted it herself. She didn’t care I was attacked.
I got attacked by dogs and I’m still shook up, I’m terrified to leave the house.
I got reported to animal welfare by somebody close to me.
I lost my psychologist because she moved to a different reason so I’ve no support group anymore.
I’ve not ate properly in days because I seriously cannot look after myself.
I’ve not been taking my tablets because I seriously don’t see the point.
I have no friends near me anymore because they all sided with my sister.
I have no safe place.
I have a lovely boyfriend who can’t seem to understand the concept of me hating change.
That’s it so far.
Goodbye for the time being. See you whenever I’m next on again.
turnnoffyourmind
areudirty
kaledo-art
germansingergirl
vaporwave
pixelskylines
stormborns
