Warning: Emotional Abuse, Self Harm, Suicidal Thoughts.
I have a very bad relapse, my moods have been getting worse over the past few months and I can't control them any longer.
Yesterday was a very bad relapse, I locked myself in the bathroom and slashed the fuck out of thighs, the proceeded to bang my head into the wall until I was dizzy. I wasn't able to stop crying for 3 or 4 hours.
It continued into today, everyday it's harder to get out of bed, or not have the kinds of thoughts that scare me. I felt so hopeless today that once again I locked myself in the bathroom and cut until I didn't have the energy to anymore.
The wounds have been cleaned and have stopped bleeding so I am okay on that front. But the living conditions are not helping me right now.
My mother has gone off the deep end it seems. While she's never been a great mom, she was never this bad. I was living in San Francisco until October I had to leave the city I was born in when I ended up homeless, because I couldn't find a job that paid enough to keep a rough over my head.
I was brought out to Las Vegas by a series of lies, they told me I would have a room, and privacy and a work space for my art. That they would help me with my internship, or move some place I'd have a better chance at work.
These where all lies, I sleep in the hallway at the top of the stairs I don't even have a privacy curtain or screen. And I haven't been allowed to unpack, I've been wearing the same 6 or so out fits sense I moved here in October, I have to keep the clothes under the broken futon I sleep on because I don't have a dresser.
When I asked for help getting a dresser my mother laughed in my face, and took me to target a few times and walked down the furniture isle a few time saying oh no we don't need anything here.
A week after I asked for a dresser she bought the two 18 year old boys who live her brand new dressers, they are still sitting in the boxes unopened in the living room, because they boys didn't need them they have two each in their rooms.
My mom thinks this is funny. She also picks on me about how much I eat or don't eat, for not being able to drive, and the self harm scars I have. She knows the buttons I have, she knows I have BPD, and pushes my buttons so I end up hurting myself then yells at me for hurting myself.
She yells at me for eating and cooking even though I clean up after myself, she tells the boys they don't have to do any chores because that is why I am here. Then yells at me if things are cleaned well enough for her.
I've had to tell my friend to stop sending me care packages and mail, because she flips out and acuses me of hiding money from here. This happened at Christmas as well when a few friends sent me a very nice Winter Soldier jacket.
Recently she found me crying and told me to cheer the fuck up you freaking ball of sun shine or to pack my shit and get out, that if I didn't cheer the fuck up she'd put me on the bus back to San Francisco and I could sleep on the streets. There is more but I don't feel like going into much more then that right now. But writing this all out has helped a lot. I think I am going to start writing my dark thoughts out here more.
I have no place to go no way out, I've been applying for jobs back home in the bay, none of my real life friends really know what's going on. I have no place to go and live, and I can't stay here.
I've been applying for jobs in San Francisco, Seattle and New York, places where I can find work and live with out ever needing a car. But it's not looking too good after 2000+ job application.
I am trying to raise funds to get out of this situation
here I am also selling art
here