My Crazy Life

Chapter Eight: The New House

It took the care company over six months to find me a new house, the house where I live at the moment. It's a lot bigger than the flat. My parents were initially worried because the stairs are very thin and steep and the bathroom's downstairs. I reasoned with them that I would be OK and careful with the stairs.

When I moved in I had to sort out my internet and phone again. This time I decided to go with Sky because I liked the variety of programmes available on Sky TV.

In the November, Loon Master sent me a message, accusing me of harassing him as one of my alters. Alters are alternate personalities, and they are common in BPD. These alters mainly show up when I go online, and when I'm on one of my alter profiles I literally feel like I'm this other person. Anyway, I tried to explain to him that I hadn't been on my alter profile in months, and he seemed to believe me. We got chatting and ended up striking up kind of a friendship. I was thrilled, not only because I hate any kind of confrontation but also because I was still a bit obsessed with him and Red.

In the January I started going to my grandparents' every other weekend. I loved going to my grandparents' because it gave me a chance to get away from my support workers. I would stay from Saturday until Tuesday. On Monday we would go shopping and I would buy crisps, which they would then reluctantly let me eat in my room. I'm a little ashamed of this now.

In March something happened that changed my perspective on life. Loon Master hadn't been online in weeks, and when I asked him why, he told me that Red had taken her own life. I was stunned. I thought she had everything. Loon Master explained the reason why, and I won't go into it because it's not my story to tell, but it just goes to show that you really don't know what goes on behind closed doors.

The previous August I logged onto Facebook to some news. One of the looners I'd been obsessed with, Chris, had died. You might be thinking I was upset. Oh, no. Even though I was obsessed with Chris, I hated him. He had a lot of media attention because of his fetish and let the fame go to his head. I can't stand people like that. And of course, being borderline I took things completely the wrong way, sending malicious messages to Chris' friends and family. I'm quite ashamed of what I did now, but back then I thought he deserved it. As you can probably guess I got a whole load of abuse from people I didn't know. They told me to kill myself, and at that moment I felt like it.

The first anniversary of Chris' passing was coming up, and again, I messed up big time. I posted messages to a Facebook page he used to moderate. I got confronted by a girl called Carrie. Again she sent me lots of insults and I retaliated. She tried to reason with me, and again, hating confrontation I co-operated. I told her I was sorry and she said she believed me. I added her as a friend and she accepted. It turned out that Carrie was autistic too, and it was cool having a friend in America. I started to obsess over Carrie. Which made what happened later a whole lot more difficult.

Christmas came around, and I was expecting to get some kind of gig tickets like I usually do. So imagine my disappointment when it came to dinner time, and still no tickets. That was until my mum handed me a small gift bag. In it were two tickets and a flyer for the pantomime Sleeping Beauty in Windsor. What was so special about a panto in Windsor, you ask? Yep. You guessed it. Basil Brush. I was so excited I cried. I also cried because I was ashamed. Ashamed that I, a twenty-five year old woman, was excited about seeing a kids' puppet in panto.

The show was in just over a week's time. My mum came round a couple of days later and suggested that I message Basil on Twitter to ask if I could meet him again. He replied pretty much straight away, saying he'd love to meet me again. Once again, I was really excited.

The day of the show came around and my poor dad was feeling ill. Nevertheless he still drove us for about two hours to Windsor. I'll always be grateful to him for that. The show was awesome, but it was nothing compared to what came afterwards. Me and my mum went round to the stage door, rang the buzzer and were let inside. Soon after Basil and his 'handler' Mike came down the stairs to greet us. I was so happy I cried. Mum cried too, because she knew how much it meant to me. Basil gave me loads of free stuff and I had a selfie with him. When we left I couldn't stop smiling. It might seem silly, but it was one of the best days of my life.

I went from being on top of the world to depressed in less than a month. It happened when I went to stay with my grandparents for the weekend. I would go round there and use their computer and for the most part I was OK. But on this particular night, I dissociated as one of my alters while talking to Carrie. My alter said some pretty horrible stuff to her. Obviously I couldn't convince her that it was my alter that said those things, so she said she didn't want anything to do with me.

I spent the next couple of months obsessing over Carrie, and I'm ashamed to admit that I kind of stalked her. I didn't mean anything by it; I just missed her friendship. But unfortunately she didn't want to know me, and felt threatened by me.