Girl in the Cupboard

Girl in the cupboard
Girl in the cupboard

The girl in the cupboard, hiding from her pain and the world that caused it is me; or at least it was me this past Saturday night. While most people might take the title of this post figuratively, I actually did crawl into a cupboard Saturday night, cried, hid, and locked myself in so no one could get to me, but I’m getting ahead of myself…

Saturday started out okay for the most part with me spending the morning with my boyfriend doing a number of things together we both enjoy. With our relationship influx at the moment there is always so much emotional tension between us that the slightest comment from him I tend to take as a reprimand and burst into tears; I’ve been trying to control them but the car ride home was really rough. We started talking about our relationship and how to move forward from here; lets just say the switch flipped and I went downhill very rapidly during the ride home. Once home I retreated to my home office, climbed into my nice big comfy chair, and shut down for a couple of hours…not good since I had plans for the evening too.

Saturday evening the plan was to go with my wonderful sister Casz to the Kansas City Irish Festival and spend the evening enjoying music, food, and just generally seeing what kind of trouble we could get into. Unfortunately she somehow misread the schedule and her friends weren’t going to be performing until Sunday, so instead of going to the festival as planned we ended up going back home. It still turned out to be a nice evening as we got into our pajamas, curled up on the sofa, and watched a movie together; so while I know she was upset with herself for getting the days mixed up, it still turned out nice in my mind. After the movie we said goodnight and went to our rooms…that’s when my evening took a dive straight for the basement…

Once back in my bedroom I sent a text to my boyfriend telling him goodnight and asking if he was going to be home for breakfast. He’s usually really good about responding fairly quickly, but no response. I waited 15 minutes and still no response. I waited an hour before sending him another text, an hour during which my mood rapidly deteriorated. Unlike most people who’d be worried something had happened to him, my mind went straight for worst case scenario and it didn’t include him getting into a car accident. No, in my mind he was ignoring me or worse yet, he’d finally given up on me and abandoned me; yes, my borderline personality disorder (BPD) was in full swing that night. The next text I sent to him wasn’t very nice to say the least and again, no response. He’s never once ignored any text message from me and all I really needed was to hear his voice, say goodnight, and find out if he was going to be at breakfast or not. I waited some more, my already bad mood deteriorating even more rapidly now and I was seeing the bottom coming up quickly too.

Thoughts of getting the scalpel and cutting went through my mind; at least the pain would help bring me back to some form of center and give me some control. I’ve not really cut since my high school days, but for some reason it leaped into my mind that night. From the thoughts of cutting it was a short hop skip and a jump to taking it further, past simple self harm to yet another suicide attempt (which would have made three in less than two months). I realized I was in a downward spiral and quickly losing control of my mind and I had only recently promised everyone under the sun I wouldn’t hurt myself (my boyfriend, my sister, my daughter, my therapist, and a close friend to name a few). Realizing I was out of control (a first in a long time really), my cupboard came to mind.

My cupboard is just that, my cupboard. We live out in the country and so the response time for getting the sheriff out here is unpredictable, we are a half mile off the road, and our place isn’t visible from any of the neighbors so I needed a safe place to hide in the event someone tried to break in. We had lived in the house for over a month before we discovered that there are two hidden cupboards in the kitchen, so if you don’t know they are there you’d never know they existed. Now, these cupboards are tiny and no one else in the house could ever fit in them, but they are the perfect size for me! So since I’m often home alone, we setup one of the cupboards as a tiny safe room for me and installed a latch so the cupboard can be locked from the inside. I have always had an affinity for tiny spaces where I can hide and as I am learning more about my BPD this is starting to make perfect sense on some level.

So, crying, depressed, upset, feeling abandoned, and thoughts of self harm going through my mind, I took my teddy bear, a pillow, and blanket and proceeded to lock myself in the cupboard. I have no idea how long I was in the cupboard when I boyfriend came home. I heard him come into the house, I then heard him going through the house (looking for me I’d assume), and then I heard Casz’s and her boyfriends voices to. Eventually someone tried to open the cupboard door, only to discover it was locked so they figured I had to be in the cupboard. The only problem was I was too emotional, my boyfriend too upset, and now there are too many people outside of that cupboard door that I really didn’t want to come out. It wasn’t until my boyfriend went and got a crowbar to pry the cupboard open that I finally unlocked the door, but I still wouldn’t come out.

Casz realized where my head was and sent the boys away. It took her a long time to even get me to talk and one of her first questions was if I’d done anything to hurt myself. I shook me head no, still unable to find my voice. Eventually she talked me into letting her hold one of my hands and then I did finally come out of the cupboard. It took Casz close to an hour to finally talk me out of the cupboard too. Once I had finally calmed down enough I did finally talk with my boyfriend about what had happened and as it turned out, he didn’t get my text messages for a couple of hours, they also came in out-of-order and one was missing parts of the message…so my BPD had gotten the better of me yet again. His suggestion, if I don’t hear from him after texting him…call.

After relaying this to my therapist this morning she got me into daily group therapy that I’ll stay in for a few weeks to a month or until I’m more emotionally stable. The Gods only know how long that’s going to take and hopefully I don’t self destruct before reaching that emotional stability.

Peace, love, and contentment,
Izzy

1 Comment

  1. You’re moving in the right direction by going to daily group therapy. I go to individual therapy 3 times a week and have been for quite some time,now. I’ve been to that dark, dark place more than once and I hope to never go there again. I wish you the best of luck on your journey. It takes a lot of courage to take that first step. Don’t give up. You can do this, with lots of hard work.
    Peace and Hugs
    Tammy

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