00:34 – Just back from A&E

It’s just after midnight and I’ve just got home. I text a friend and asked if they could come to A&E with me. I was hugely anxious and couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t even write my name on the form, my friend had to fill it out for me.

The nurse on duty was really nice and the doctor was one I hadn’t seen before. He asked me the 101 questions to determine how crazy I was then once he was satisfied I wasn’t suicidal they took a look at the damage. By this point the blood had soaked through all of the bandages and through my jeans, it was everywhere. Thankfully they kept the curtain round me so my friend didn’t see the actual damage.

It was the worst self harming I have ever done. Including Wednesday’s stitches I now have a total of 24 stitches in which is more than I ever have had in before. The A&E experience was one of the more positive ones, they were non-judgemental and friendly but also professional. I did accidentally almost hit the nurse at one point as she was trying to control the bleeding whilst the doctor was putting the stitches in but he went to put a stitch into a bit that he hadn’t injected with lidocaine and I almost shot off the bed, hands flapping. He was really apologetic though. After being stitched up and cleaned up and dressings and bandages on the doctor could see I was still really anxious and still really shaky. He checked my pulse and then asked to get the machine through that does the pulse, sats and blood pressure. My pulse was 126, BP 153/103 and o2 sats 97. So they could see I was really genuinely very anxious and the doctor went and got me 2mg of Lorazepam. [That same lorazepam that the doctor who stitched me up on Wednesday told me they didn't give out to people, despite me having had it on multiple occasions there before - so that confirmed he was talking shit].

I was treated really well, gentle and empathic. I have to go back to A&E on Tuesday for a wound check and dressing change, then back on Wednesday back for the last week’s stitches out and these new stitches have to be in for a minimum of 10 days due to the depth of the wounds.

I did tell a little lie to the doctor that my friend was going to stay with me tonight – anything to avoid being kept in hospital – and I am now home alone and the lorazepam combined with all my other nightly meds are all starting to kick in. I’m starting to feel quite drowsy so I think I’ll get a good sleep tonight.

At last I feel regret again. I do feel better for doing it but I wish I hadn’t done it so badly. I regret knowing they are going to be quite nasty scars. But it’s done now. I’ve been to hospital, it was horrible, I felt hugely anxious despite them being really nice to me, I’m ready to sleep but not looking forward to the pain I’m going to be in tomorrow. I can already feel the lidocaine local anaesthetic wearing off and the pain starting.

Do I have any more plans to do it again? No. Not at the moment anyway. Not even if it’s given to me as a command. I am bandaged from ankle to knee on each leg so I’m kind of running out of places to cut as well. I think the urge might finally be out my system.

Goodnight folks x

22:22 – Got some sleep at last

Last night I really didn’t feel in a good or safe place. Thankfully I got support on Twitter and thankfully the Nitrazepam did eventually make me feel sleepy. It was strange, I fell asleep but woke up an hour later, was awake for maybe 45 mins then asleep again but only for another hour then awake again and it pretty much continued like that through to about 4am. Then I finally got to sleep and stayed asleep until 8.30am when I heard the postman putting letters through the door and the dog barking at him (my usual morning alarm clock!) However I still felt quite tired and got back to sleep about 9.30am for another hour and then that was me up.

I met my Mum for lunch at 1pm (her treat!) and then I went for a 2 minute sunbed. I’m not using them to try and get a tan, it’s to try and help my psoriasis because the agoraphobia is preventing me from getting to the big hospital to see the dermatologist and get UV treatment there. But I am very sensitive to the sun and burn very easily, I had a 5 minute sunbed a couple of years ago and a few hours after it I began to burn very badly and was in pain for days. So I said to the woman I only wanted to be in it for 2 minutes and in a few days if I have no redness then I will have another 2 minute one, maybe on Tuesday. And just build it up really slowly, 2 minutes twice a week until my skin gets used to it then I might try a 3 minute one but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to have a full 5 minutes at one time. I’m going to go and buy some sun lotion and put it all over my body where I don’t have psoriasis patches, the last thing I want is to give myself skin cancer even if I am only using the sunbed for 2 minutes at a time, I just want my psoriasis to fade.

Then Mum bought me a big notebook, some highlighter pens and some normal pens for my uni course so I can take notes when I start my first bit of reading on Monday. I am going to the parents for dinner tomorrow night and Mum is also going to buy me my first textbook that I need for my course which is almost £30! There are quite a few books I need but only one that I am going to need throughout the module, the rest I can borrow from the uni library for the chapters I need and just photocopy them or something.

I then went out to see best friend and the kids for a couple of hours and came back home about 6pm. Haven’t done much this evening, watched the X Factor on TV and messed about online. I was a bit naughty and treated myself to a glass of rosy wine – I have been good it’s been in the fridge for weeks and that’s me only just opened it. I’m hoping one little glass combined with my medication and tonight’s Nitrazepam will just make me that little bit sleepier so I stay asleep and don’t keep waking up like last night. It was a strange waking up, every time I did I felt like there was something wrong and couldn’t get back to sleep until I was sure there actually was nothing wrong.

So it’s now around medication time. I am going to take the dogs for their last walk of the night and then get into my pj’s. A night of rest and keeping distracted all day today has definitely helped my mood. Well I haven’t had time to dwell on things or think about hurting myself, I’ve been too busy so I guess that’s a good thing. I will try and make sure I do the same tomorrow and then on Monday I see the woman from rape crisis and can get things off my chest again.

Let’s hope I get another reasonably decent night’s sleep tonight and as it’s Sunday tomorrow and no post I won’t have my doggy alarm clock waking me at 8.30am. The only thing I feel a bit disappointed about today is that I still haven’t had a reply to the email I was talking about the other day, deep down I don’t think I will get one at all but it would mean a lot if I was proved wrong even if it was just to say – “I don’t know what to say but I read it”.

Hmmz… we’ll see what happens. I thought the person may still care enough to take five mins to send me a reply but maybe I’m wrong.

21:55 – What a mess

What a mess I’m in. Slurring my speech, tripping up and down stairs, looking at people as if through junkie eyes. I’ve take too many benzo’s today to try and calm my head down but nothing is working. I was speaking to best friend on facebook and telling her I just wanted to die, because I don’t believe I’m ever going to overcome this travelling phobia. She told me not to do anything stupid…. I questioned her what is ‘stupid’? Is stupid when you can’t manage a 30 minute trip to a hospital? Is stupid setting up the least stressful way I could think of – going with social worker and mum – yet still cancelling before even trying to get into the car? Or is stupid just believing that things are not going to ever get much better and I’m pretty much stuck in this little rural area for the rest of my life?

Best friend asked me to go out and see her. I said I couldn’t due to the amount of medication I have taken. Not enough to overdose or anything but enough where my body and mind appear separated and keeping my eyes open is becoming a real struggle.

My head is pounding from all the crying I have done today and no doubt from the effects of the medication wearing off. I think it will be an early night, if I still feel like this in the morning then fuck only knows where I go from here. Today all I have achieved is….. nothing…… nothing at all.

Just ugh, blah, yuk, is all I have to say about today.

18:37 – So fucking angry with myself

As the title says, I’m so fucking angry with myself. I haven’t self harmed in over a month now and today I ended up in A&E. What triggered it? A mix of feeling absolutely useless with regards to my Aunt’s cancer and not being able to be there for her like the rest of my family are – and – stupidly sitting watching a documentary where a woman lost her little baby in almost the exact circumstances as I lost my little man. My Aunt had her surgery on Thursday and so far everything is looking well, the surgeon was pleased with everything and she spent a good 4 hours in theatre. Now we are all waiting until the results of all the biopsies and surgery, which will be next week sometime, to see if it has spread anywhere else and if not then she will get started on chemo. So actually there is no reason why I should still be feeling so useless because the worst bit (for the moment) is over.

And yet I still feel exactly that – useless.

Useless that I can’t be there with my family. Useless that I couldn’t give life to my son. Useless that I have no fucking eggs and no fucking relationship and everyone around me seems to fall pregnant at the drop of a hat. I’m sick of lying to people and pretending I don’t want kids. I’m sick of my best friend’s other friend who has 9 yes NINE kids and all she does is moan about them. She is so lucky!

Argh everything is just getting to me at the moment.

So this afternoon I ended up in floods of tears and before I knew it I was raking through my kitchen drawer knowing I had one blade left in the box somewhere. It took me ages to find it and when I did I just did one angry deep slash which resulted in eight stitches and the usual “are you feeling suicidal?” speech from the doctor. I phoned my best friend and asked her to come with me to the hospital because I think if I had gone by myself I would probably have ended up crying hysterically again, begging someone to make my head stop thinking so much, and probably ended up being admitted for my own safety. But instead my friend came and she spoke to them for me and told them I had been doing really well recently and she was sure it was just a slip up and that I hadn’t intended to do so much damage to myself. Which is true, I didn’t mean to cut so deeply, it genuinely was just one cut, just a very deep one because I’d done it in anger. And the more the doctor quizzed me on suicidal thoughts etc the more angry I got at myself for doing it. As I saw the mess being sewn up I felt so angry for creating another scar. I should have been stronger and stopped myself somehow.

Anyway I suppose it is done now and there isn’t much I can do about it. I have to go back on Monday for a dressing change and then next Saturday to have the stitches taken out. The doctor gave me a few Lorazepam in case I find myself agitated again to the point where I might hurt myself so I have just 4 of them, enough to take the edge off things if my head starts going crazy.

My friend doesn’t want me sitting in the house by myself tonight but she and her friend with the 9 kids are going out on the town drinking. She has persuaded me to go out with them but I have to admit I’m not sure if alcohol is such a wise move when my head is feeling like this. I don’t have any blades left – I always throw them in the bin after I’ve used them once. I do however have a cupboard full of medication. Maybe I’ll go out and actually have a nice time and be able to have a laugh but I doubt it. I can see me saying I’ve had enough around midnight and coming home.

I’m so fucking angry that I did that to myself again, and the aggressive manner that I did it in. But the nurse who came in to dress the wound after the doctor had stitched it said just to think of today as one bad day and tomorrow a fresh start again. I really hope she is right.

20:45 – Babysitting all weekend

Early this afternoon my best friend phoned me. She is moving house and has to hand the keys back by Monday. So she called to ask if i could take the 1 yr old this afternoon. I said that was fine and went for a shower. The 3 yr old is staying with his dad whilst she moves house.

So i took the little one to the park and then went to my mums for a couple of hours as it started raining. She was in a good mood, it looks like she has got a new job which was great to hear. I couldn’t really bring the baby here when i have no proper flooring and he’s at the half crawling half walking stage.

I also went into the local housing department and got a big long form to fill in to apply for a housing transfer. I tried to phone my social worker to ask if she would mind writing a supporting letter but was told she was dealing with a crisis so it can wait until next Friday when i see her.

I had the baby from about 3-7pm today and tomorrow im taking him from 1-7pm and I’ll probably take him for a few hours on sunday as well. Its weird, when im looking after him im so aware of him and so focused on thinking what im going to do to keep him amused and making sure that he is ok that i almost get a little hint of feeling ok, the pushchair covers most of my body, im always talking to the baby so i don’t look up at anyone, which makes the paranoia and anxiety calm down.

So yeah its been a good day but they are such hard work for such little people! Im definitely having an early night as i think tomorrow is going to zap all energy out of me!

12:14 – Friday the 13th

I am fucked. Had my mate round again last night and each took 4 of the little magic pills. We laughed so much I was aching. Apparently a couple of glasses of wine go well with the little magic moments. We were doing all sorts of crazy nonsense but it was so much fun. So he ended up staying until the middle of the night and I had to get up at 9am to get a parcel from Mr Postman. I thought it would be fun to have another little one with my morning meds and then go and take the dogs a walk, so out I went until 10am floating along in my own little bubble, no one around, no one to freak me out, no one to make me paranoid, just me and the nice scenery and the dogs.

Now it’s two hours on and the little floaty buzz is still around but more than anything I’m feeling the desire to have some sleep. I want to go and get some but a guy is coming round in a couple of hours to help me out with something and I know I won’t wake up in time. Maybe I will text him and meet him tomorrow instead. I don’t have the yawns but my eyes feel so much happier with the lids pressed firmly together. Also I have booked my tattoo for Thursday, I am getting this angel-devil on the back of my neck, it feels like it sums me up, I have my nice angelic side and then the side that satan the devil takes over so much. I was going to get a complete devil with 666 but the tattooist said he thought I’d regret it. I couldn’t very well explain to him I’m only doing it to shut the fucking voice up in my head that are setting me my initiation task to prove myself to the devil, prove I will never be worthy of the Lord, give myself to Satan. I couldn’t tell him all that could I? So, as my other five tattoos are all in black, I picked this design instead. I quite like it actually. It is the devil with his thorny wings and stinging tail, but with a halo above it to show I do try to be good. It says so much to me, but probably very little to others. And the voices haven’t been giving me hell over my choice so they seem happy too

Oh and just before I go, it is now Friday and I still have not – seen/met/had any contact from – my new CPN. Nor has anyone phoned to tell me about the short term use of a support worker. So that’s probably part of the reason I’ve just been getting off my face, because in my own little floaty world, thoughts about cutting and obeying voices quieten down and I get a warmly welcomed rest for a few hours. And I should state here that these little magic pills I have been taking are completely legal, they do not in any way make me want to go out and abuse hard drugs, and as far as I can tell they do not have any impact on my medication. But no doubt people will disagree and say that any drug on top of my prescribed meds could have the potential to destabilise me, but you know what… I’m already bloody destabilised. [And yes I am completely aware that drugs like meow meow (Mephedrone) started off as legal highs, then fucked some people up and is now illegal.] But these little pills just take away anxieties, make everything floaty, and help me sleep. All of which are good for my mental health (in my opinion!)

Back to the tattoo:

14:02 – Another little mistake?

At some point over the last week or so, whilst my head has been firmly in cloud cuckoo land, it would seem I ordered tablets online. I know this because said tablets arrived in the post this morning. My order came from Japan this time, it was always India whenever I ordered any in the past. So I looked inside the package to find 3 boxes each containing 30 tablets with names I have never heard of before. After a considerable amount of time spent googling, I now know what they are, why I ordered them and that they appear to be ‘real’ tablets.

So now I have 90 of the little bastards and I am just sitting here looking at them, not to sure what to make of them. Do I want to try out 1 or 2 of them and see how they feel or do I want to neck the lot of them? I’m really not too sure where my head is at if I’m honest.

However… it is best friend’s birthday today and my charger has stopped working for my mobile phone and at the exact same time my house phone battery has decided it’s fucked as well. I’m not so bothered about that one, I’ve had my little pink house phone for over 6 years, it’s lasted well! So today I must go to the shops, buy a house phone and a mobile charger, buy best friend a birthday present, pick up my weekly prescription, pop into the tattoo place and see if the guy has a spare hour to do me a devil design down the back of my neck [branding initiation satan task] go and see best friend and spend some time with her and finally get home some time tonight.

Who knows what the night has in store…Where will my head be at by tonight…[?!]

Oh and in other news, I saw the addictions nurse yesterday, she came to my house to save me the anxiety of going out. I told her I had been out on Saturday night and made a big mistake when I was drunk – I text my [ex]-dealer. He told me to go round to his house but I was so drunk I could barely walk and I do remember leaving the pub then as if I was going to his house but I ended up coming straight home and falling asleep. So she was a little bit concerned that if I’m drunk or a bit ‘out of it’ on whatever then my triggers are still being triggered. I told her that when I realised what I had done the next day I immediately deleted his number from my phone. I did delete it before but he ended up texting me one night and I still had the message :/ Anyway… I didn’t take any drugs and his number is gone again… maybe I should get a new number as well but it’s so easy to bump into him in the street. I just need my willpower to keep me strong!

As for these little bastard pills, well I’m not sure what’s going to happen to them yet. They are no doubt another mistake, but it is from mistakes that we live and learn…

00:23 – And that’s my care team falling apart

I really don’t know where to start with this post. It’s been a long day.

I didn’t sleep very well last night, was up til almost 4am and then woke up in a state of panic at 8.10am thinking I had overslept. Then I was too scared to go back to sleep in case I did over sleep. The last thing I wanted was the CPN and my social worker turning up at my door.

Anyway, I had a shower and tried to make myself look presentable in some nice summery clothes. My friend arrived about noon and we went to the meeting. We were shown into a tiny room and the male nurse from yesterday came in shortly followed by the CMHT team leader person. I have met her once – the first time I got sectioned in 2010 during which time I was a mess. So it felt like being in the room with two strangers, not an easy environment to talk in. I kept hoping my social worker would come in, at least I would be able to tell her some of the stuff on my mind and vent things a bit. She came to the door once and then the door was closed again. I asked them if I could speak to her but by the time the team leader woman went looking my social worker had already left the building.

So the male nurse asked if I had been OK last night. I nodded. He asked if I’d slept well. I shook my head. I then stared at the floor. My head was going a million miles an hour but I couldn’t say a word in front of my friend of how crazy my head was feeling so I continued to sit and look at the floor. I heard my friend start talking a lot of nonsense about the chilled night we’d had last night and how I’d seemed a lot better this morning. The nurse asks me if I agree. I nod my head. By this point all I can think about is getting the fuck out of that building because the anxiety was going crazy. I noticed my leg shaking which always happens when I’m panicking. The nurse gave me a copy of some other crisis plan I had done with the last CPN and he asked me to sign it and bring it with me to my CPA meeting next Thursday. Then we left. Clearly by sitting saying nothing and staring at the floor this showed them there was no need for any concern.

My friend and I went to the beach and sat talking shit for a while. He kept commenting that I was quiet. I told him I was annoyed that my social worker hadn’t come into the meeting. I tried to explain to him that she is the only one I really trust in there but how I felt as though there was no longer any kind of relationship between us as I hadn’t seen her in so long. I later found out that I am about to lose my social worker as they have decided it is a CPN approach I need. Call me whatever, but I spent a lot of time and poured my heart out to my social worker many times in the past, I’ve shared such personal and painful thoughts and feelings with her, and knowing that the cord is about to be cut once and for all (and pretty unexpectedly) made me cry. I have a big long ranting post to write about why this has happened but it’s past midnight and I’m tired so it can wait for another day.

I don’t know when I’m going to meet my new CPN, I was told she has been off this week and is off next week so maybe it will be the week after. At the moment I currently have no support or contact person at the CMHT because I’m no longer on my social worker’s case load (as I said, I’ll post about that over the weekend) although she has asked them if I could see a support worker until I meet my new CPN. Given that they are so adamant it’s a CPN I need, I doubt I will get any support until she starts.

Right now I am pissed off, I feel alone, feel completely unsupported and my anger wants to be released in a very unhealthy way.

19:54 – Fucking nurses

I had to go up to the hospital A&E department today to have my stitches taken out. I had a friend with me at the hospital who knew I was getting stitches out because of self harm. So he sat in the waiting room while I went through. It was the same nurse that I saw on both Friday and Sunday. When she was taking the stitches out she saw I had cut some words on my skin, I did as Satan asked last night and wrote various phrases. It was only shallow, just scratches.

She asked me if the CMHT had been in touch with me and told me she definitely left an answer phone message on Sunday night. I told her that no they hadn’t phoned. She said she was going to get dressings for my leg and would be back in a minute. One minute turned to five, I started feeling anxiety sweep over me, my head started screaming “just put your jeans and shoes on and get the fuck out of here” but I felt physically frozen with fear. I got my phone out my bag and text my friend in the waiting room telling him I was scared as the nurse had been away for ages and I was beginning to panic as I didn’t know what was going on. Another five minutes passes and the nurse comes back. She tells me she has just phoned the CMHT, she hoped I didn’t mind but she was concerned about me, and a couple of people would be over shortly to see me. I felt myself completely tense up then asked her to get my friend and let him sit with me.

He came in and I quickly told him that someone was coming over to talk to me and that he had to tell them that he was going to stay with me tonight because I was terrified I wasn’t coming home but going up to the psych hospital again. Within minutes these two men appear and the nurse asks me if I want her to come in as well. I say yes please. I don’t think I have met these people before but one of the men tells me he has met me once before. The other tells me he is a nurse. A CPN I assume. They ask how I am feeling, I tell them fine. They ask my friend how he thinks I am. He says he thinks I am fine. My friend then tells them he is going to stay with me for the next few days to keep an eye on me. He isn’t, but these words seem to make them happy.

They bring out a copy of my crisis plan and ask me if I want a copy for tonight, I say no thank you. I know what is written on it. They tell me they are aware I haven’t attended any of my appointments for several weeks. I nod my head to confirm this is the case. They ask me if I will attend an appointment tomorrow with one of them and my social worker. And then they ask my friend if he will come as well. He agrees. I agree. The nurse asks if he has a commitment from me that I won’t put myself in any danger tonight. I nod my head. He says I can go. I leave the hospital and can breathe again.

My friend came back here for a little while and says he will come down at noon tomorrow so that gives us half an hour to get to the appointment. I apologised to him for dragging him into my mentalness but he said it was OK. He said several times that I had better open my door to him tomorrow and go to the appointment or I’m going to end myself back up in hospital. I told him I will never go back to that hospital.

Anyway, now my head is going a million miles an hour and I want to cut badly, I need to get all this pent up craziness out of me but I know I can’t cut deep because I can’t end up at the hospital again and arghhh it’s all just frying my brain.

I just want to be left alone, I feel intimidated and scared because I know if I put one foot wrong they will take control of things again and that cannot happen.

Completely off topic, I noticed this which was nice: http://www.healthline.com/health-slideshow/best-bipolar-blogs#3

The writer says:

Reading My Crazy Bipolar Life is like peeking into a private diary that holds the open-hearted tale of a rollercoaster life. Inside you discover the thoughts and feelings, successes and failures, and predicaments and positive experiences of a woman with bipolar disorder, winding her way through life with mental illness.

Readers with bipolar disorder no doubt find a kindred spirit here, along with the reassurance that comes with knowing they are not alone. For those without a diagnosis, reading this blog is an educational glimpse into the world of life with bipolar disorder.

17:56 – I just can’t do this

Best friend has been phoning me all afternoon. Then she starts with the “please talk to me” text messages. Then she phones again. Everytime my ringtone starts up my heart starts to palpitate, words come out quietly even though I’m trying to sound ‘normal’. Anyway, I finally answered the phone and listened to her tell me about her drunken antics from last night, I just seemed to sit there totally blank until I realised she had finished speaking and was waiting on me to say something. What was the question? Heart speeds up a bit. My mind searches for the last words she said… Then I hear her ask if I’m still there and I want to hit the ‘end call’ button so badly but I mumble ‘yeah I’m still here’.

“So are we going out then?” (ah, that was the question) Go out? Are you fucking crazy? “Um I don’t think I can” I reply. And then follows ten minutes of a lecture about how I am never going to get better by sitting in the house and never seeing anyone. How I need to get out and meet people and “enjoy life”. I reply to her stating that if she was sitting here with a stitched up leg and voices telling her she was being controlled by fucking Satan then she wouldn’t want to do much either. And then comes the “oh why didn’t you tell me?” speech – why didn’t I tell her things were so bad I’d resorted to cutting again?

By this point my head is already spinning. I now have to sit and listen to the “the voices aren’t real” speech to which I state they are indeed real which moves her on to the “if you sit there believing all your thoughts you are going to wake up and find out that ten years has passed and you have achieved nothing other than to have sent yourself completely crazy” speech.

(I think the above has already happened in the last ten years of my life…)

Anyway.

She carries on trying to convince me I need a night out, I need a few drinks, I need to socialise. I tell her that I really cannot handle the thought of being around so many people. I say I’m sorry. I suggest she could ask someone else to go out with her? She replies “I want to go out with you” – “I want to go out with my best friend” Does she mean this or are we now on the guilt trip speech?

I start the big crazy scramble of thoughts where my brain is reeling off one excuse after the other as to why I cannot go out tonight.

“I have no clothes, they are all still in boxes”

“I cannot be around people, I’m sorry”

“I don’t have enough money”

“I don’t think alcohol would be good for me right now”

“My leg hurts”

“Look, every fucking person out there will fuck up my head”

“I can’t shower properly, I can’t get my stitches wet”

“I know you just want a night out with me, I know I’ve not been around much”

“OK I will go and have a shower and see if I can find clothes”

“Speak to you in an hour, bye”

Now I am supposed to be going out? I am supposed to be in a shower right now and finding clothes and getting “motivated”. What the fuck is motivated? I cannot do motivation right now. Why did I back down? She now thinks she is going out with me and is going to phone back expecting me all showered and smelling lovely and I am still going to be sitting in this very spot panicking.

How do you say – “I just can’t do this” ?