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evie568 · 3 years

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♫ ♪ Spotify playlist : Ella changed the Name — Previously named : Cut ; by eviewivi

Date of creation : December 2017 — 3h6m

Let’s start from the beginning.

— —

· Who am I?

My name is Evie.

It was not my given name. I chose it myself. I always wanted a long name, like “Isabella” or “Elisabeth”, but I was given Eve. So I decided to add another letter to it to make it longer (age 4/5).

Some of my diplomas say “Evie”, and others say “Eve”. My passport says “Eve” whereas my social insurance card says “Evie”.

It’s a bit of a mess.

— —

I was born in 1995, in London and moved to the South of France with my family (age 8).

My parents are both English (although they enjoy saying they’re French since they have duel nationality now). I have 2 older sisters and 1 older brother.

At the age of 8, I remember that I could count up to 30 in French and say “Bonjour”. That was about it. I was put in a French school straight away and it was scary at first.

— —

Learning to speak French came naturally as I was young. The grammar was a little harder, and I still have difficulty with it today.

I actually have difficulty in English too. I often make mistakes.

Being born in one country and moving to another can sometimes be confusing.

“Are you French?” Not really…

“English?” Neither…

“So what are you?” Good question.

You often get asked the same questions.

“Do you think in English or French?”

“Do you dream in English or French?��

“Do you prefer England or France?”

I don’t mind it though, they find it interesting.

— —

· What happed?

This is a difficult question. I’m not too sure as I am still discovering things everyday.

I am not writing this, cured from my mental illness. I am writing this, still going through tough times, trying to get better everyday.

I am writing this as a sort of therapy, to help myself and maybe others.

To understand myself better, for family and friends to understand me better and maybe for people to relate to.

Writing has never been my strong point but whether you are good at it or not, I do find it helps. You get to express yourself freely, like dancing, or painting or creating music… any form of art really.

— —

So back to the question : what happened?

In 2018, I was diagnosed with a mental illness I had never heard of before in my life : Borderline Personality Disorder.

— —

· How did this all start?

After finishing a Sound Engineering course back in 2015 (Montpellier, FR), I went back home to my parents house to look for a job in the music industry.

It was very hard to find a job with no work experience at all. It was a catch 22 situation : I needed a job to gain experience but couldn’t get a job without any prior experience.

I would end up playing The Sims everyday in my one piece pajamas. Drinking Desperados in the evening while dreaming of moving to Sydney.

My parents quickly noticed I was not being very productive, and gave me a speech.

I would often check Facebook and see my best friend at the time, having the time of her life as an Au Pair in London.

I was jealous.

— —

In October 2015, I took a plane to London to become an Au Pair.

I was an Au Pair for about 2 years in London, and it was so much fun.

I made friends with other Au Pairs from all over the world that were so lovely. We would go out to bars, concerts, parks, museums, festivals and so much more.

— —

Then I met Julien.

This part is difficult to write about as it is still very painful and I have forgotten a lot.

My therapist told me it’s hard to remember what hurt you so much. I find that to be true in this situation, but I’ll try my best.

— —

I’ve never had a boyfriend in my life. And I was 22 years old.

My brother created an online profile for me on a website called OKCupid. He told me that it wasn’t just for dating, but you could also make friends.

I met Julien on OKCupid. His username was “JulienB26” (his last name started with a B and he was 26… I know, very creative…). Mine was “BurnTogether” (the name of a music album I was OBSESSED with at the time)

He was not my type at all, but sent me the sweetest, most personal message I had ever received, so I thought “why not?”

We met in a rock bar in Camden Town called The Worlds End, and it was fun. We got on straight away and it was my best first date ever.

Long story short we ended up dating.

After only about a month, I left my Au Pair family and moved in with him in Notting Hill. He met my family and I met his.

My parents adored him! He seemed so perfect. He was cultured, dressed nicely, polite, had a good job, a nice and tidy apartment…

He wasn’t that perfect though.

— —

He smoked a lot of weed, was addicted to online video games and extremely jealous.

I remember one time when I was typing to my friend at the time, he snatched my phone out of my hands to see what I was writing. It was quite aggressive and I did not like it at all.

— —

My Au Pair friend Pri invited me one day to spend time with her and our new Au Pair friend to go out to pubs near London Bridge.

I refused, as Julien didn’t want me to go. He didn’t like Pri.

We (Julien and I) went to the rock bar we first met at instead. It was not fun. We didn’t have much left in common.

I felt the relationship slowly dying and there was a lot about him I did not like anymore. But breaking up with him was not an option.

I got drunk. I often drank. I liked it so much and would drink too much, too often.

The following day I saw about 5 to 10 messages from my friend Pri.

There was a terrorist attack that very same night at London Bridge.

She managed to escape but unfortunately our Au Pair friend, did not.

— —

Pri asked me to spend the day with her, the day we found out that our friend had passed away and, of course, I went.

We drank wine together and cried.

She didn’t want to spend the night alone and asked me if I could stay with her.

I agreed and asked Julien if it was okay with him. But it was not.

It was a problem for him and he refused.

I left.

— —

Julien had been acting strange for a couple of days.

I didn’t really know what to do and didn’t want to be egocentric and assume it was because of me, but I did.

Maybe he was thinking about his father who passed away?

I didn’t know, and he wasn’t telling me anything.

— —

One day, as I came home from babysitting, and had enough. I needed to know what was wrong.

He put down his joint, told his online friends on Discord that he needed to leave and turned around from his computer to face me.

— —

This part is very hard to remember.

He told me I didn’t deserve his love as he couldn’t love me to the fullest.

He wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to end things and needed some time to think.

Our age difference was a problem for him. He thought we were in two different phases of our life.

— —

I didn’t sleep that night.

I watched Netflix and cried until I saw the sun rise.

The next following days were difficult. It was the same pattern everyday.

I woke up sad, left for work angry, came back confused and went to sleep sad.

I didn’t deserve this.

No one deserves being with someone who isn’t sure they love them and needs time to think.

So I decided to leave.

I took a train to Paris and never came back.

— —

My brother who studied art in Paris, decided to spend a year of his education in Bergen, Norway. So he had an un-used flat in Paris for a year.

I asked my parents if I could stay in the flat while looking for a job in Paris.

They agreed.

— —

I felt fresh, like a new chapter of my life was starting. I didn’t know anyone (besides my brothers friends, Julie and Yolo).

I bought healthy, organic, vegan food and bought a membership to a gym that I would go to everyday for an hour.

Things were looking good. I felt positive.

— —

I quickly found a part-time job as a receptionist for a company involved in cryptocurrency.

It was so much fun.

I loved saying hello to all the staff that walked passed my desk in the morning.

My life was good, and it got even better.

— —

I went to the company’s seminar in a grand chateau outside of Paris.

One evening, we had special places to sit for dinner. It was a way of mixing all different employees from different services to connect.

I was sat at a table with one of the Vice Presidents of the company.

He was very kind and asked me what I do outside of work and what I would like to do in the future.

I had a couple of Desperados and told him that I originally wanted to join a company in the music industry and work my way up, but since working for the company, I had fallen in love with the it and would actually like to work my way up in this company.

This was not a sneaky plan or anything. I’m not that smart.

Fortunately though, the President of the company heard my tipsy conversation and called me over.

He asked me if what I said was true. I was astonished he knew my name!

— —

About two weeks after the seminar, the Vice President of Sales approached me asking if we could have a chat.

He had heard from the President that I wanted to join the company and offered me a position in the Sales department.

I had no experience whatsoever in sales, but accepted with great pleasure.

— —

My personal life on the other hand was not going so well.

I was drinking a lot and started cutting myself with broken glass as a punishment for drinking.

But I didn’t tell anyone or do anything about it as I felt in control of the situation.

I was on OKCupid again but comparing every profile to Julien.

In the spring of whatever year it was (2018 maybe?), I went back to London to see Julien as he had some of my belongings to give back to me.

We talked and walked in Hyde Park for about two hours. I wore his favorite dress.

I told him about my amazing new job and friends I had made. I was subtly bragging about my life. I wanted him to regret letting me go. And he did. He cried so much and felt very regretful. I felt happy even though I was suffering inside.

Towards the end of the walk he told me he was seeing someone new.

I did not expect that. I was shocked.

— —

I remember taking the underground back, and crying like I have never cried before while listening to Taylor Swift.

I felt that something inside of me had changed. Something bad.

— —

After returning back to Paris things got worse. I was drinking more and cutting deeper and more often.

Julien was still texting me at the time and I was not responding as I wanted to cut the cord with him.

He didn’t understand why and I remember telling him that I had never felt this bad in my life. I had never hated myself so much and needed space.

He told me that I needed to seek professional help.

I said goodbye and blocked him.

— —

On the day of Gay Pride 2018 in Paris.

I was drinking alone.

I didn’t eat anything that day and drank a bottle of white wine alone in my flat.

I remember grabbing a glass and smashing it on the floor, collecting the sharpest piece of glass I could find and cutting and cutting and cutting.

My friend Yolo came over and saw the pieces if glass all over the kitchen floor and saw me on the floor crying and bleeding.

She called an Uber and took me to a psychiatric hospital.

I was so desperate for help that I would have gone anywhere she took me.

We had to stop the Uber half way there so I could throw up and then continue on our route.

— —

Once there I remember talking to a professional, crying, about suicidal thoughts I had.

I remember doing a lot of research at the time and discovered a website.

It had all the information I was looking for on it.

I spent a night at the hospital Saint Anne to sober up.

The following day, they let me go.

— —

Even though things were bad, I still felt 100% in control of the situation.

I would self harm and drink almost daily.

I continued doing research about suicide and the sharpest object known to man.

One day I decided to order a pack of scalpels off of Amazon. They arrived quickly.

I was so eager to try them but had to go to work that day. So I just did a small cut on my arm and wow.

I didn’t press hard at all but bled. It was so satisfying at the time.

— —

On my friend Julie’s birthday I remember coming home from work, going to the closest shop to my flat and buying two 50cl cans of Desperados. I could tell the cashier was judging me, but I did not care much.

I put on a stand up comedy show on Netflix and proceeded to drink the beer.

Then I remembered the scalpels in my bedside draw.

I had promised myself not to self-harm anymore before the summer holidays as I would be around my family in t-shirts and shorts.

But I wanted to so badly. So I did.

I said to myself that it would be just one cut on my thigh. But it had to be satisfying enough.

So I cut my thigh.

— —

I forgot that it was a scalpel and in my mind it was just a piece of broken glass.

Big mistake.

I cut too deep.

I remember seeing the white fat through the cut in my thigh.

It didn’t hurt though.

Then the blood started to flow. There was so much.

I tried to close the cut with my hands, but blood got everywhere.

I panicked.

I didn’t want to disturbed Julie on her birthday so I phoned her boyfriend (who was also my work colleague).

He calmed me down and phoned the emergencies who arrived very quickly.

— —

I went to the hospital and had to have ten stitches in my thigh.

They also made me speak to a therapist there who told me I could go home.

So I went home.

— —

I was seeing a psychiatrist for a while (since the Gay Pride event)

That told me after the 10 stitches incident that I was depressed.

I still remember the feeling of her telling me I was depressed. I was shocked and didn’t want to believe her.

I had everything under control!

She suggested I take antidepressants and I accepted. Paroxetine 10mg

— —

I worked for the company for about a year.

It was amazing.

I traveled to Berlin and London. I also attended a “Blockchain Cruise” from Barcelona to Monaco to Ibiza.

I could bring whomever I wanted from the company.

I chose Jacques.

He seemed nice.

— —

On the cruise, there was a party going on and of course, we both attended it. I was a little bit tipsy and kissed a guy on the dance floor.

I remember seeing Jacques really angry and went over to talk to him.

We were talking near the main bar on the boat.

He seemed very drunk.

He tried to kiss me but I pushed him away.

He tried again and I had to push harder.

Someone felt the need to intervene and asked me if I needed help.

I told them that everything was okay and walked Jacques back to the room.

— —

After the trip I wanted to forget that side I saw of Jacques.

So I did.

I wanted to be his friend and he wanted to be mine.

— —

One evening we were having drinks with work colleagues in a whiskey bar.

I asked Jacques, as a friend, if he wanted to spend the night at my flat.

I felt very lonely and was a bit tipsy.

I didn’t want anything to happen between us, but I understand now how he thought differently.

— —

As we were going to bed, he tried again, like on the cruise to kiss me.

I pushed him away but he was stronger.

He then proceeded to take my pajama trousers off.

I pulled them back up. He pulled them back down.

I remember his fingers inside of me. I tried pushing him off of me but he grabbed my wrists.

He then, finally, saw that I was not happy.

So thankfully, he stopped.

I pulled my trousers back up and stayed in a foetus position until I fell asleep.

— —

The next morning we walked to work together.

I didn’t feel right. Something about that night felt wrong.

I phoned Julie and told her what had happened. She was in Greece at the time.

I sent an email to my boss telling him that I didn’t feel well and asking him if I could have the day off.

He accepted and I left with my friend Yolo who met me at work.

— —

We had a lovely day. We went to the cinema, went and got massages, and later on that evening, we were at a café and my friend Julie appeared out of nowhere!

She had taken an early plane back from Greece to come and see me.

I was so happy to see her!

— —

The next week, at the end of the day at work, round 7pm, my boss asked if he could talk to me.

He told me that the President of the company had heard that I slept with a married colleague.

This has never happened and I has shocked and embarrassed.

I told him this information was not true and he believed me.

He told me to tell him if anything ever happens between me and a colleague.

I felt the need to tell him that Jacques took advantage to me. And I did.

My voice was shacking. He was angry.

After our chat, I left and went home.

— —

I don’t remember this part very well but I remember going to see my therapist very drunk with a bottle in my hand to my appointment.

She called the emergencies and they took me to a psychiatric hospital, La Maison Blanche.

— —

It was very strange at first seeing all different kinds of patients, with all different mental illnesses.

(the person is drinking water from a puddle, not praying)

— —

I stayed for about 15 days there and made some friends.

It wasn’t as bad as it first seemed.

— —

My siblings were aware of what was going on with me. But once again, I still felt under control of what was happening.

They didn’t think so, and they were right to think that.

One day I ran away of the hospital and drank cans of beer in the side walk.

That is when my siblings decided to tell my parents what was going on.

After going back inside the hospital, one of the nurses told me that my mother was on her way to see me, she took a 4h train to come.

She had no idea what was going on before. It must have been a terrible shock for her.

I felt so scared and embarrassed for her to see me in this blue outfit they had given me but they refused to give me back my clothes.

— —

It was extremely difficult to balance my work and personal mental health.

I was coming to terms with my depression and accepting that I was, in fact, never in control of anything that was happening to me.

— —

After leaving the hospital, I went back to work.

It was very awkward at first.

The President of the company asked to speak with me about my long absence.

I didn’t want to go into details, so I just mentioned that I was at the hospital without saying why, or what kind of hospital…

Later that same day, someone from human resources also asked to speak to me.

She was asking is everything was okay and I told her what my therapist had told me to say, that I had a really sore throat.

Now looking back at it, I know that she knew exactly where I was. In a psychiatric hospital.

The papers the hospital were giving to my company to cover my absence, had the address on them.

So she knew…

— —

One day, my boss got fired out of the blue. He was such an amazing person and work colleague. He didn’t deserve this.

Later that month, my other Sales colleague, also got fired.

Cryptocurrency was not doing as well as it was before, and the company was slowly dying.

I was next to get fired.

It was the day before my birthday.

I remember my new, less cool boss, asked me to have a word with him and a person from HR.

I honestly thought at the time that I was getting a raise. Lol.

The conversation was very awkward, it lasted about 15 minutes. I don’t remember much of what was said.

They told me to leave straight away and not mention to anyone that I got fired.

I told my friend/colleague on Slack before leaving the building.

He was worried he was next to get fired.

So I sent him a brief message saying “turns out you were right about the Sales team getting fired. I have to leave now. Please don’t tell anyone.”

I left and went home.

— —

As I got home I lay on the sofa staring into oblivion.

I wanted to cry. I said to myself that this is a situation most people would cry.

But it was so hard to shed a tear.

I felt numb.

— —

I phoned my mother and told her what had happened. She was worried I would do something bad.

I invited my friend, Alienor, that I made from the hospital over, and we drank beer and took cocaine.

My father phoned me.

He could hear by my voice that I had drank.

My parents contacted Yolo to come pick me up and take me back to the hospital by Uber.

I felt obliged to go with her, so I went and Alienor left.

I only stayed one night or maybe two. I don’t really remember.

— —

I continued living in Paris for a couple of months, without a job.

I would drink everyday. Cans of Heineken beer.

I would wake up and drink straight away, while watching BoJack Horseman.

Then I would fall asleep around 6pm.

Everyday was the same pattern. Beer and BoJack.

— —

I had stopped self harming, as I had promised myself since the 10 stitches to never start again. But suicide was still a big subject in my mind.

The website I had discovered, has the most common methods of suicide in order of success rate. And hanging myself seemed like an okay technique.

I wanted to test it out without actually killing myself.

I know it sounds weird.

I wanted to try and see if it was doable without actually doing it all the way.

——

I took the cotton belt off from my work trousers. I thought to myself that I wouldn’t need it anymore, as I don’t have a job anymore.

I tied a knot around my clothes hanger in my wardrobe, and tied the other side around my neck.

Then, I very gently bent my legs (as I could touch the floor).

The next thing I remember is waking up with the belt around my neck, in my wardrobe.

Saliva was all over my mouth. Snot was dripping from my nose.

It scared me.

I couldn’t undo the tight knot around my neck so cut it off with a pair of kitchen scissors.

I threw the belt in the bin and laid in my bed in a state of shock.

I phoned a friend at the time, and told him what just happened to me.

He came over and we talked about it.

— —

I liked him, he promised not to tell anyone and let me drink.

Yolo and Julie where more worried and protective. They would judge how much I would drink, and I didn’t really like that.

— —

One day, a colleague/friend of mine was organizing a small party at his house with about 8 people.

Julie, her boyfriend, Yolo and I all went along with other ex-work colleagues.

I got drunk quickly. And when I drank, I would talk too much.

I told a friend/ex-work colleague that I tried to hang myself the other day just to try it out but ended up fainting.

— —

Later that evening, I went home to my flat and fell asleep.

Around 3 in the morning, my door bell rang.

I didn’t know who it was, but opened the door all tired.

It was Julie, Yolo and another friend.

They were really worried about me.

What I had said at that party has gotten out, and everyone knew about it.

They told me I needed to go back to the hospital.

So I did the very next morning.

— —

I went back to The Maison Blanche, and stayed there for 12 nights.

One of the male nurses saw me and asked why I was back, again.

I told him what had happened and he was very nice. He gave me advice and listened to me.

He mentioned that we should go out for drinks once I get out of the hospital. I agreed and gave him my number.

— —

We texted that night, while I was in my hospital bed.

Our text messages were very flirtatious.

The next following days we had sexual relations in my hospital room, and in the storage room.

— —

Once I left La Maison Blanche, I invited Alienor over to drink and take cocaine.

And I told her about my romantic affair I had at the hospital.

She didn’t seem surprised. She told me that another female patient had sexual relations with a nurse there too, and she wondered if it was the same nurse. So did I.

We sent a message to the girl in question and asked her to describe the male nurse she had relations with.

It was him. Paul. And she was 17.

— —

This suddenly felt wrong and I had to tell someone. So I told my mother about Paul and also Jacques.

She was really angry. More so about Paul the nurse than Jacques. But I felt the opposite.

I didn’t feel taken advantage of by Paul. But Jaques really hurt me.

My mother wanted me to report both of them to the police, so I did.

— —

My parents didn’t trust me living alone in such a big city so far away. I needed help.

In May 2019 I want to Rehab for alcohol and cocaine addiction.

I spent one month there. It was much nicer than the hospital. They had a ping-ping table, a chess set and many more activities.

I spent a month in Rehab and it was really nice to be away from alcohol.

Alcohol affected me in bad ways.

I would say so many things I regret. I would hurt myself and make bad decisions.

I drank so much that when I didn’t, I would uncontrollably shake and feel faintish.

Rehab made me want to stop forever.

— —

My mother would visit me often and it was lovely to see her. She was very supportive.

After leaving Rehab, it was time for me to leave Paris forever and move back in with my parents down South of France.

I needed to not be alone. I needed help.

— —

I moved back into my old bedroom with my vinyls and The White Stripes posters. It was comforting.

I was now taking more medication : Paroxetine (20mg) and Abilify (5mg).

And it was making me feel better.

My mother wanted me to see one of the best therapists in France.

So I started seeing a new psychiatrist in Bordeaux, FR (1h away by train) every two weeks.

At first we did not get along.

I wanted him to help me forget about my ex, but he explained that it was not possible to forget the past, you must accept it as part of you, like a scar.

He wanted me start writing about my feelings in a journal. I was not good at it and did not enjoy it. But I did it anyway.

— —

A few months later, I was starting to feel much better and stronger.

My therapist was really helping me, and so was my family.

I decided it was time to find a job near my parents house.

In October 2019, I found a job as an Exhibition Assistant for a company in events.

I was saving up to move to Sydney, Australia. To start a new life far away. To a place I’ve always wanted to go to.

I’ve never been to Australia but didn’t care.

— —

Working for this company was not fun, and a lot of pressure. They wanted to me make a minimum of 200 phone calls a day. And I hated being on the phone.

I told my therapist about my job being very pressurizing and he told me to quite and move to Sydney sooner.

That sounded like a great plan! I was so happy about this decision.

I went home and bought myself a Working Holiday Visa.

— —

My psychiatrist decided it was time to stop my medication as I was doing really well.

So I stopped them gradually.

The withdraw effects were a nightmare.

I was sweating, felt nauseous, had diarrhea, felt extremely emotional…

But that only lasted for about 2 weeks.

I was so happy that I wasn’t taking any medication anymore!

I felt on top of the world.

— —

For New Years Eve, I decided to go see my old friends from when I was doing my Sound Engineering course.

I told them about what had happened to me, and I could see it made them sad. They told me that I was such a happy person before. That I didn’t deserve this.

I told them I was fine now and that it was in the past.

I didn’t drink on NYE and they respected that. But I felt odd. I felt numb for some reason. They loved me so much and expressed it. But I didn’t seem to feel the same way. I used to. But not anymore. I didn’t feel love for anyone and that worried me. I felt like a ghost.

— —

My mother picked me up and could tell that I was different.

I went to work the following day and did not feel well at all.

I could feel it all coming back. I was so scared and ashamed of relapsing. But I knew I was.

I told my boss that I wasn’t feeling well and she let me go home.

I got back home and told my parents : I think I’m depressed again…

— —

I saw my therapist again and every session he would read what I wrote.

This was the last time I wrote in my diary.

He closed my black book and called my mother in.

He told me I needed to go back to a psychiatric hospital.

— —

My parents drove me back home from Bordeaux after that session and we packed a suitcase and went to the nearest psychiatric hospital. La Candelie in Agen.

I remember hearing my therapist on the phone to the hospital telling them I have Borderline Personality Disorder. I had no idea what that was.

— —

I arrived at La Candelie and spent 7 weeks there.

I was not in a good state of mind.

I tried hanging myself multiple times there in the shower but couldn’t let go of all of my weight by bending my legs. I just couldn’t.

I cut myself often and managed to bring in Vodka.

It was a mess.

— —

They put me in the isolation room for one night.

The isolation room was horrific.

They gave me paper pajamas that would rip with the slightest movement.

The door was locked and I had a bucket to pee in.

I was not allowed a pillow or a blanket. It was so cold and my pajamas were ripped everywhere.

The next morning, I saw a psychiatrist from the hospital and told him that I was fine and just being dramatic. I did not want to go back there.

— —

After 7 long weeks I was finally allowed out.

It was a long time.

I was now on even more medication : Paroxetine, Abilify, Tercian, Alprazolam and Mirtazapine.

I felt so numb. Better, but numb.

Australia was not an option anymore. Not for a while anyway.

— —

Once I left the hospital, I was obliged to have a nurse come to my parents house every morning and evening to make sure that I take all my medication properly.

I also had to go a psychological-medical center once a week.

I got tired of explaining what happened when, where and why. It was hard to remember. So I decided to write all the bullet points down on a piece of paper.

— —

· Where am I now?

Today is the 13th of May 2021. I still suffer from my mental illness even though I wish it was all in the past.

I’m currently taking Mirtazapine, Abilify and Alprazolam and only see a nurse once a week to restock on medication.

My therapist appointments have been elongated to once a month.

I haven’t self harmed in about a year.

I do however still have episodes with suicidal thoughts, but they are less severe.

My therapist from Paris once told me that you will have ups and downs, but with time the ups will be less up and the downs less down.

It’s starting to make sense now.

I currently live in a small city called Agen (30m drive from my parents house) with my boyfriend Yann. He’s the best.

We met through an old friend of mine that I reconnected with last year.

I still don’t have many friends where I live, as they are all over the place (Montpellier, London and Paris)

— —

My mother took an online course about Borderline Personality Disorder, which I really appreciate. I feel like maybe she understands a part of me more.

— —

Julie left Paris and moved to Montpellier to become a Yoga instructor. She and her boyfriend are still together, building their new life in the South of France.

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Yolo is still in Paris, she recently got a job as a video editor for a cool company. She’s doing great.

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Pri is still in London, not as an Au Pair anymore but as a chef by day, and an Art Salon organizer by night. She’s always been very productive and I admire that.

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Alienor unfortunately is back in the hospital in Paris, La Maison Blanche, as she tried to commit suicide by jumping off of a bridge above train rails. She lost both of her legs and one arm, but thankfully survived.

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The criminal cases concerning Jacques and Paul the nurse, are still going on. It’s been a very long process but I hope it ends soon.

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I don’t have any news at all regarding Julien and do not plan on having any.

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· Why am I writing this?

Like I wrote at the beginning of this, longer than expected text, about my mental health, I am writing this for me, my family and friends and hopefully others who may relate to it and seek help if they need it.

I often mentioned that I felt under control of the situation, but I was wrong. So maybe someone reading this might make the decision to seek help.

I have no words to describe how thankful I am to the people who helped me.

This is not a suicide note, it’s the opposite. It’s a “life” note.

A note to remind me that some days can be nice and happy, but others can be very, very hard. But you must go on. You must keep on fighting. It might seem like an endless battle but it gets better.

Sometimes that’s hard to see. But I see it now.

#borderline life #borderline personality traits #bpd #borderline personality disorder #mental health #mental illness #addiction #love #love story

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