even with nice times, saturday is still never-ending

Good things : comments/mail from FD and Peggy, releasing a whole bunch of tortoises, hedgehogs and a terrapin, my so sweet and cocky mynahs - the babies inside as well as the guys that are being hacked out, my desperate pigeon-lings - they are all eating well, but when they see me it's a frantic 'wheepwheepwheep' and shoving their heads into my hand on the off-chance that I might feed them, my boss - even if she crapped on me about the mynahs, and told me to keep them to myself, no picking them up from the centre etc.

But even with almost 6 hours of today being fetching and releasing critters....I still have to come home with big-time loser a**hole jcat. It is such a futile idiot thing to do, but I ended up cutting last night. Bicep with the whole neat checkerboard, and then the adidas stripes on the forearm. Followed by the normal Q's as to what bit me...and the standard answer of I fell out of a tree. And double triple idiot that I am...did both parts of the left arm again tonight.

Cutting...probably the most definitive borderline symptom. In 1992, the 2nd time I went skiing in Colorado with my folks, I was browsing in the local bookshop. Picking up about 15kg of books that I just couldn't resist - most of which I wore in a backpack under my jacket to take home with me. No idea of why I just beelined in on a book on the psych shelf. It just called me, skimmed through the first couple of chapters, thought 'thank f**k...it's not only me' as I read the 9 definitive BPD characteristics. Since then, I'm supposed to have grown out of a lot of it. There have always been a couple of things that have never really fitted. But there have always been a few of the total loser behaviours that have hung around, that come out of the woodwork when I'm bottoming out.

I cut the first time when I was at boarding school, when I was about 15. Couple of times where I lied, and got away with it, then the time I figured that I was going places I didn't really want to explore - and turned myself in. Got kicked out of the boarding house, saw the first of the p-docs...so so NOT a bond of any kind. And then I kind of kept it together for about 12 years. In hindsight?? Maybe if I'd owned up to how lost and screwed up I was then...maybe I'd not be drowning now. Maybe I'd have done a proper job of offing myself long ago. Maybe I'd have gotten to the other side of the dead places.

Biggest regret of my whole life? Shortcutting out of here seems to have become a constant undercurrent. But there has only been one attempt. And apparently it was close...1993...almost made it. There have been a whole lot of good things since. There have also been a whole lot of things that I just haven't even tried for - because I know what a stupid idiot loser asshole I really am, that I can't even fake being someone worthwhile. I really wish that I had succeeded then. And meanwhile.. as interim self-inflicted punishment....I cut. And contrary to standard BPD stuff that says you outgrow the ugly evidence - seems that the older I get, the more I end up taking out the cr*p on my epidermis. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Repeat X 10000000.
Such a total loser.