Hello again, friends. This post is going to reference my temporary therapist, as mine is on maternity leave. I sort of went into detail [here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/BPD/comments/4r0hym/feeling_abandoned/)

So, that out of the way, let's jump to today.

I've been on a new medication, an antidepressant, for about a month, and was fine until about two weeks ago. So...two weeks into the medication? I was *supposed* to be monitored, but my new therapist cancelled on me and I **just** saw her today.

I have been in a horrible state. Not showering. Not eating. Panic attacks, screaming fits, doing sexual things with strangers on the internet because they give me attention, spending money on the stupidest things possible...

You name it, I've just about done it.

Two days ago, I decided I wanted to kill myself. 

Thankfully, I was lacking of the tools, and my anxiety kept me rooted to the spot. For two damn days.

I dragged myself to therapy and broke down, begging my therapist to take me off this medication. I have never been so depressed in my life. My writing, which I have been doing since I was 8 fucking years old, my music, even my love for Youtube...

It was all gone. I literally have felt nothing but pain and anxiety for two damn weeks and she didn't have *time* for a goddamn emergency appointment. 

So I break down, and I'm not even yelling, I'm just crying, because I am the type that tries to be quiet about freaking out, and my therapist responds in the coldest tone I've ever heard,

"You're going to need to be quieter if you're going to do that in here."

I suddenly was flooded with these panicked thoughts as I remembered being raped and told to be quiet about it. Suddenly I was sobbing openly for my old therapist to come back and fucking save me from the monster she left me with. I was scared. I kept telling her over and over I was scared, and she responded by telling me that if I just watch some youtube videos, I will feel better.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

So she brings in my medication doctor, and they double team me as I'm sitting there, gripping the chair so hard I bruised my hands, absolutely **terrified**. 

They told me, and I'm not paraphrasing, that **I am a burden to my loved ones**, and that *I am not trying hard enough*, and that I needed to handle my emotions better, as I beg them over and over to take me off this horrible medication.

Well, they took me off the medication, and told me that wanting to kill myself is not a valid reason to take a day off of work, and that I'm being unfair to my friends and family if I'm honest about my feelings (meanwhile, ten minutes earlier, they were trying to tell me to bring my family in...)

I hide my shit from my family as much as I can. I am honest with my friends but try not to unleash on them. I try to manage. All I asked was for these people to listen to me, and to hear my cry for help because they put me on a medication that makes me want to die and left me **alone for a month.** 

I am not a burden **I am not a burden** I AM NOT A FUCKING BURDEN. I AM A HUMAN BEING. 

I'm scared and alone and my therapist doesn't come back for another month and desperately, I just need some time off, I just need some time to cope and to recover from a horrific time. Even now, I'm avoiding hurting myself. 

I'm trying, and I'm tired, and I just want to feel like *I'm not crazy.* 