9th September

 I was having a pretty good day yesterday, all things considered. Even the chiro said I seemed more upbeat.

A perfect time for Hazel to meltdown then.

She's been staying at her place for the last few days to "tidy it up for an inspection". Neither of which happened. I picked her up in the afternoon, she wasn't in a great mood, and took her to her chiro session.

Within 5 minutes of stepping back in the door on getting back, she kicked off. Stomping around. Huffing. Oh no. I gently tried to tease out what's wrong.

I hadn't done her washing. Ok. She had no clean clothes. Oook. I apologised, I didn't know she needed her clothes cleaned ( also, what was she doing for the last 3 days ). Then it just got worse. I had used a clean towel ! Uh. Yes. You said not to use the red one. Now I have no towel !! Ok. Well, we can wash it. You don't listen she says. Ho hum. It went downhill from there. Picking on literally everything and nothing. How I did nothing for her ( ironic as we were just back from a chiro I took her to and paid for ).

I lost my patience.

Argued with her. She sits on her arse all day, I work, have to do *all* her washing up, tidying etc. I dont mind her being lazy as fuck. I really don't. But its a bit much when she then has the gall to say I do nothing, and nothing for her. I've paid off her debts, bought expensive things when she needed them, taken her to appointments, looked after her dog, let her stay when she's been having bad phases, drive her across town when she wants a milkshake, continually asked if there's anything I can do for her, was going to sort out driving lessons for etc etc. But yeah. I do nothing. This isn't just me. She thinks everyone is a cunt. Snarls at everyone. And that she's always the victim. When she's out with me and people are demonstrably not cunts. Well. It's just me she says.I beg to differ. It's *you*. She has burned through almost every good friend she's ever had. Sometimes spectacularly. Apparently it's one of the key things with how they diagnose borderline personality disorder- which she was diagnosed with. BPD takes a hell of a toll on people around them. The unfortunate thing in Hazel's case, is she is barely aware of the abuse she deals out. It's everyone else. Not her. *Despite* having a BPD diagnosis and it saying specifically this is what happens. Ho hum.

But. Eh. The details are rather pointless. It's not the details. It's whatever or whoever is closest to hand. She's been on a mental descent for the last week and a half. Snapping at strangers on Sunday. Being keen to start a brawl in the garden center. It's just more of the same. This time aimed at me.

As inevitably happened she also then turned ultra nasty. I didn't care about my dogs. I neglected them. Didn't really help people. Sounded like my dad. She picks the things she thinks will get the most rise, the most pain. This is when she can get properly abusive. She just turns into an engine for generating as much pain and misery around her. I am used to it with her. It's a very predictable part of her schtick. And she revels in continuing screaming matches. She doesn't want them to stop. Drags things out. I suspect it's an expression of the rage always inside her. And she doesn't, can't, let it stop because otherwise the conversation is done, the bridge is burned, and now the consequences have to occur. She punched the shit out of my fridge and screamed. At least it wasn't punches at me this time.

I waited it out, and refused to engage in the negativity to the best I was capable. Just walk away.

I said she needed to go home. She was still ranting. I tried to get through to her a couple of times. She didn't understand what I was saying - wouldn't let me finish.

Oh well.

So I took her home.

The very predictable nuclear blow out had occurred. She had, in her own words from 5 weeks ago, gone mental again.Which is fine. But in the depths of that, her coping mechanisms are to project anger and abuse outward. And she will push. Like an 8 year old that has never had their boundaries set. And if you resist, a tantrum ensues.

It makes me sad. Genuinely sad. I tried my very best. But it seems the positivity giving her a safe place, no requirements, no strings, giving her what she needs...is not enough. She's not in a place where that is enough. Perhaps much much longer is required of unrelenting kindness - but it would need to be in the face of hostility, rage and abuse. That's a very hard ask.

I again find myself out of my depth. But I know I tried my best. She needs some serious mental health help. And she needs to work on herself - something she doesn't do much of expect poking around the edges and not tackling the core.

Ho hum. Today I am muted and sad. Sad that I lost a friend. Sad that I couldn't help her in the end, or she couldn't quite curb it. As Andy recently said. You can't save them all.

She was getting some regular therapy sessions on the NHS. But. Very predictably. She's had a falling out with her therapist. Another cunt. And progress on that has stopped.

I worry that at this point she's pretty much realistically unhelpable. The level of care she needs is.. unicorn level. And some of it probably has to be non consensual. A stay in the mental health ward, without the key to get out.

I'm also slightly worried about her dog, Poppy. When she started to kick off yesterday, both dogs came and literally sat ontop of me. She doesn't see it, but Poppy avoids her at times. Which is why invariably she comes and hangs out with me.

Ho hum.

Can't save them all. I tried.