Tag Archives: Masks


It is now 2.12am Sunday 26th after a wonderful meeting the Pakistani community and making new friends I have found myself being teary, actually not teary crying. Why does this happen to me. I hate that I can not enjoy the feeling of doing something good, helping people. I always crash and I hate it. The worst part is I have no one here to talk to, work through it, hold me and say………don’t worry it will be ok!!!


Sometimes my life really does suck big time. I know people see the happy me, the okay me, the tired me, the I am competent me, the confident me, the make up me, the mother me, the Christian me, the kind me. I find it so hard to show the vulnerable me. Lets face it why would I want to show the world the sad me just so someone can kick me when I am down. Life has shown me that when it comes to me I know not to be a broken shell only to be trampled me.

This is the time when I know I am truly on my own. Yes I have God and he listens but he doesn’t always help, and I know I am to blame. No one else is to blame as it is my insecurities that make me crash and know just how un-loveable I feel when its 2 in the morning and again I am on my own. I do not know what I would do if I didn’t have my blog.

I wonder if there will ever be a time that my life will be a continuous happy place. But I am dreaming as BPD/BP doesn’t just go away. Tablets can help but they are not the problem its me. I am making it so that no one can see me. The DARK me, the me that is vulnerable and actually wants to say please give me a hug, please SEE me. I am not as strong as people think I am. But people see what I want them to see.

It’s a vicious circle I’m okay——I’m happy——I’m sad——I’m okay—–I’m happy—–I’m sad and it goes round and round and round.

I wonder if people can’t see me then do I see them. Do I know when my friends need a shoulder to lean on or a hug or  just not to be alone. I would hope I do but what if I don’t. What type of friend would I be if I didn’t see if a friend was in need.

I can’t think anymore my brain and eyes hurt let alone the pain in my heart. Why do good people die when the people who hurt people live just to cause more hurt and damage people. It’s not fair!!!!!!!!!!






Yesterday a dear friend who I have known for many years wrote something quite innocent on my wall regarding Piaroo’s Wish Helping the Homeless and Vulnerable in Reading. It was very helpful which I established after a few hours.


Satty…. You need to start taking a register/tally from your drop off in town, especially…

Some folks are making valid points about certain people not being homeless, or no longer vulnerable…
Yeah, you get people who need help as a one off, or a couple of times until they get back on their feet, like I needed it once…
But there are folks who don’t need it, or who are taking more than they need instead of doing their own shopping… Sadly…
I’m ok now, I can forward help on now….
But you need to keep a tally, because some of those folks either, no longer need it and are taking advantage, or are receiving from a food-bank or a church regularly, or even their own families…
I will PM you….                     img_4458

Now for me this is what I read……………

Satty your not doing it right. You need to do this because people are talking behind your back saying that you are a easy target and people you are helping do not need what you are offering.                                                                                                                                                 People are saying that the people you are helping are taking the Michael out of you they are not homeless and they are already getting help from other places. They only need your help once and after that they do not need your help because they are fine and on their feet.  People are taking items from you instead of using the benefit money that they are receiving to buy their own shopping.

You helped me once and that was all I needed and that I am fine now and I didn’t take the Michael out of you. I only asked for what I needed once.

You need o do your job properly because you are doing it wrong. The people you help are not people that need your help. You are doing your job wrong. You need to do a tally because people are taking the Michael out of you. You need to do your job properly. Your wasting your time and everything you have done over the last fifteen months has been a joke and people are laughing behind your back because your useless and a waste of space.



Now as you can see what she wrote was nothing to what I actually read. This is what happens to me when I feel like I am being criticised or told I’m not doing a good job. At first when I read it I went into complete paranoia and on the defence so I asked politely for people on the group page to please read what my friend had written.                                    Funnily enough they all came back and said that what she had written was supportive genuine kind and loving. That she was making valid points and that I should take what she had written to be exactly what is was. If only my mind and brain would listen to everyone’s lovely kind words of wisdom.

I did apologise to my friend on several occasions saying that I had read what she had written completely wrong and that I was in the wrong and that I know she means well and is helpful. Also that she was very clever.

Now even though I totally believed what I had written and agreed that I was wrong and that she was right my head was saying something completely different. My paranoia had taken over and I knew I was in for a rough couple of days. My mental health issues were not going to let this lie. Deep within my mind all my old issues of being told I was wrong, useless, waste of air and space, obsolete and insignificant took hold.                                        So what I did was go onto some facebook events and played deal or no deal and also bingo and I won because I am so competitive which makes me feel like I am someone and that I am clever. Once all that was over I read what had been written in response to my post on the group page and also on my profile. As I reread what had written I genuinely agreed with what people were saying however my inner demons were still saying the usual rubbish and immobilising my happiness.                                                                                              At night my bi polar took its toll. I had the worst nightmare about being a bad mother NOW FOR ME THAT WAS A TERRIBLE THING FOR MY MENTAL HEALTH TO TAKE AHOLD OF.                                                                                                                                                                     My nightmare had only began. I was being hunted and also being verbally abused as a mother. The Asian community or my so called relatives were saying the most nastiest comments and the men were equally or more so aggressive and where mentally abusing me. I woke up around 5am which I was not happy about because I had only gone to sleep at 2am. I woke up with an panic attack and trembling. Its now 8.22am and I’m trembling within and my head is shaky. My impulse is to pretend everything is fine and that I am okay and that there is nothing wrong with me, only thing is I know better.                                I now have to put on a mask and pretend all is okay that I have no inner turmoil, that I am totally fine, that I’m okay however its not true.


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Where is my head at???!!!

You would think that question would be an easy one to answer, but it is not. The answer is not I am happy or I am sad or even it’s going to be a good day. As much as I would like it to, it is sometimes, well, most of the time a frustrating question. It has layers and depths twists and turns. I can not get to the answer as quickly as some people because of my mental health. I wake up and I do not think Yeah the world is great and I am the most luckiest woman on this earth.

I feel sadness but I also feel a deep anger within like a black roaring fiery destruction that can only turn into despair and guilt and hate towards myself. I feel happiness but I also feel a self loathing, why do I deserve to be happy considering what I have done in my life. I feel likeable but that doesn’t last for too long once the mask comes off when I’m home alone and the tiredness of this life brings me back to reality like an electrifying thunderbolt bursting my heart and shattering the magic mirror, Then I have to spend the next few hours picking up the shards and selotaping the mask. Each time it gets hideously beautiful. thank goodness for make-up.


When I am around people its hard for me to be myself. I put on several masks and hope they don’t slip so that people can  not see me. I am the bright, funny, confident, forgetful, scatty, and sometimes manic Satty and people like her. Its hard though as I have to go through a process. I have to look great especially my face. Who ever invented make-up was a genius. I do wonder whether they were hiding the darkness within them. Did they have several masks or just one. Sometimes even when I do present myself I lose the mask and I am quiet and I can tell my emotions are on my sleeve. I just want to run and hide and cry. Social gatherings with the girls is too hard now. I do not go out of an evening I cant do it anymore so now I immerse myself with the Bi-Polar group, Dee Park and finally my release my art.

At night I can not wait for Ethan to go to bed. Then I am ME. the me that doesn’t have to hide as I can cry and feel the tiredness of the 3-4 lives I have to live, well actually I have several lives I live. I am the daughter, sister, aunt, mother, friend and volunteer but I am also alone. All my selves are one but are very different people. I don’t think people know, well they do now. So do I scrap this blog or continue……………..

Continue. I am self-destructive anything good in my life I hurt, break and I self sabotage. I am not allowed happiness in every part of my life. One part where I was, am ok is being a mother but then again that has its toll on me too. being mum and dad has not been easy and at time I ache for the hurt and damage I have done to my son. I know he doesn’t know but I do. Is Ethan the way he is because of the life I have given him or is he the way he is because of genetics. I do my damnedest to hide my mental health conditions from him but he knows I have Borderline Personality Disorder and Bi-Polar. In Public I tell everyone how wonderful he is and amazing and clever and just awesome, but what I don’t say is my inner worries. I do not mean whether or not he will do great in his life, get in with the wrong crowd, do drugs etc I mean those are gimmes as a parent. It’s the ones about him and does he truly know the darkest I carry, the twisted thoughts I have and whether I have passed them onto him. Is my mental health carried in his genes. Will he discover that he also has an uncontrollable anger within him. Will his anxieties reappear? Those are just a few.

After spending the weekend with some amazing talented artists I feel a fraud. The work they produced was delicate and light and conveyed a goodness within and mine I feel the opposite but those are just my thoughts. I am glad to have had some positive feedback but that didn’t last either. I want to take a Stanley knife to them, destroy them because people gave me phrase. Anything good in my life I have destroyed and only My son stands.

He gives me the strength every day to put that mask on and hide in plain sight. I am not the only person who wears masks. the majority of us wear them by make up, haircuts, manicures, beards to the clothes we choose to wear. I am so tired of them however they are a huge part of my life and I couldn’t be without them.

I have talked a lot about masks and I do at times drop my guard but those are far and few between.  Then I spend so much time at night figuring out what people saw and could they see. Did I get away with it? Were they being nice to me because they saw pain or anger or despair. Could they see the emptiness that I carry? Questions questions and more questions.  It’s an endless loop that goes on and this is all without the layers of paranoia that comes to sit at the door waiting to put spears of crazy to the majority of my life and the amount of time everyday that I spend keeping my paronia in check. It is an exhausting daily fight.

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My brain never stops and when it does I am calm for a bit until the next situation, but that s another blog altogether.