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20:18 – New Year’s Eve: All Alone & Extremely Low

31 Dec

It’s New Year’s Eve again, the last day of another long and challenging year, one which started on a bad note in January and is ending on a bad note as well. I have a feeling this may turn into a long ramble, I’ve got a lot of things to say in my last blog post of 2012.

So usually we go out on New Year’s Eve but this year my best friend is just going to a house party at another friend’s house (to which I was invited but politely declined) and so I am all on my own. It doesn’t have to be this way, I have just been on Facebook and had a couple of people ask me if I was going out tonight, if I really wanted to I could text another girl I’m friendly with and make arrangements to go out with her… but I know I will end up staying in all alone all night. Miserable and depressed. Still struggling to come to terms with the stupidity I referred to in my last post (and no, I still can’t write about it either)…

This might be a silly thing to say but I feel really let down by the CMHT (Community Mental Health Team) – they knew that Christmas was one of the hardest days of the year for me to get through, new CPN had said we would have an appointment on Christmas Eve and then a following one New Year’s Eve (today) so I had support right before what can be very triggering days for me. But we didn’t even get the appointment the week before Christmas Eve because I got a phone call to say new CPN was off sick but someone would be in touch. That was on the Monday and by the Friday nobody had got in touch. Christmas eve came and went with no appointment… no support. Then I got a letter on Saturday morning from new CPN offering me a next appointment with her on the 7th of January. So that is going to be exactly 4 weeks since I last had any support when I next see her. And the reason I said this all may sound silly is because obviously if I need help I have to ask for it, but new CPN knew, she fucking knew how much I struggle to cope at this time of year and whilst she couldn’t avoid being ill she was obviously back in the CMHT building at some point to type up the letter for the appointment for the 7th of Jan. So when she was writing that letter she knew I was sitting with no support, would it have been that much trouble to have maybe given me a little phone call and just told me she was back and sending me a new appointment out and maybe have asked if I was coping OK. But like I say… I guess if I want to try and get any sort of support I am supposed to phone and tell them so it must be silly that I’m sitting here feeling forgotten about and completely alone with my string of crazy thoughts.

Tomorrow (New Year’s Day) I will again be alone all day. My Mum is working late, my best friend is going to her parents for the day, so it will just be me, myself and I, probably sitting here feeling equally as alone in 24 hours time as what I do right now. It would appear that this makes me feel rather sad as I’m struggling to see out of the little pool of tears that are gathering up in my eyes.

Tomorrow a new year begins where I am still in the mindset of wanting to hurt myself, where every day I still feel like I’m stuck in this pressure cooker and with each day that passes where I don’t act on the thoughts I don’t feel proud of myself or like I have achieved anything… Instead I know that when that time comes where the lid blows off the pressure cooker it is going to result in some real damage to myself. I am so scared of that moment coming because I will be completely out of control and yet at the same time I wish it would just hurry up and hit me, make me do it and make it be over with.

My best friend asked me a couple of days ago if I was proud of myself for not “being in that place” of self harming and hospital admissions for so long. I couldn’t explain to her that she couldn’t be more wrong, I might not have acted on the thoughts, but the walls around me are crumbling and starting to fall and the more they fall the more exposed and alone I am as I hide behind them. I hate to say it and for a number of months now I’ve tried to avoid saying it, but I am well and truly in the the throes of Bipolar depression right now. And I feel exhausted from the minute I open my eyes to the minute I go to sleep, the smallest of tasks seem enormous, nothing feels as though it really has a point to it. I am about to enter a new year in pretty much the same place I was a year ago I’m just doing much much better at hiding it from people. I feel as though I can’t admit how low my mood is when people (my parents) have gone out of their way to try and make my flat look like a home again and this just proves how much of a bad person I am because they did all that for me and the whole time when they genuinely believed I was happier it was all fake smiles deep down. They think I’m coping better and after all they have done for me it’s my job to make sure they continue to think that.

If I’m honest with myself this episode of depression really kicked off just before my birthday, so around mid October. It’s been slowly getting worse and worse as the weeks have gone by. That is the really horrible part about mood disorders and similar conditions, the length of the depressive (or manic) episodes seem to go on forever. If I look at my calender it tells me I’ve been in this current depressive episode for about ten or eleven weeks now, almost three months of feeling like shit every time I wake up and realise I’m still here. And usually when a couple of months have passed of feeling so low a “crisis” would have happened by now. I’ve experienced every single one of my early warning signs as detailed in my crisis plan and yet somehow I’ve avoided the crisis being seen by other people (mainly by hiding away as much as possible). It’s like a silent crisis that is killing me on the inside, I know it’s there but nobody else does and what really worries me now is that if there is no admission from me that things are very bad or no actions by me to show things are really bad then the actual crisis part will go by unnoticed… and that means entering that place again that is past the point of a “crisis” and a whole new level of despair that is a truly terrifying place to experience.

Just like last ‘new year’ and the one before that and before that I enter a new year still mental, still single, still fat and disgusting and deserving of badness. I enter another year and know it’s a matter of weeks until my little angel’s 6th anniversary in Heaven. They said it got “easier with time”… they really need to think of a more honest expression because that one is a massive lie. It hurts more and more with every day, every week, every month and every year that passes.

What is it that keeps us going when inside our heads we are hearing (for the millionth time) that this is the way life is always going to be, when something in our mind is shouting at us that nothing is ever going to change, that this is the future and this is the place we are going to be stuck in forever? What keeps us going? And even if we act on it and make an attempt to end our lives, many of us get help (even if it really is at the very last second)… something inside us gets scared – for me it is usually the fear of what the process of death will actually be like, the fear of the unknown – and the sad reality for me and I’m sure for many others is that even though every day of being alive hurts like hell it is a hell we have become so overly familiar with that we almost know it inside out. Plus it is a hell that people around us generally witness and as a result of that they try and offer us messages of hope, promises that things won’t always be this way, anything they can say to make us hang on for another day (week, month, year). And so, with each “crisis” I have had, people have become aware of it and let me break down into little bits and then they help me put the bits back together again and give me a final push back onto my feet until the next crisis happens.

But ultimately what happens is you end up feeling as though you are living for those people who say they have “faith in you” who “believe in you” who “promise” that “things are going to get better” that maybe just trying “one more medication” or “a different type of therapy” will finally give me permanent freedom from all of this. And right now, I very much feel as though I’m living for others, I know I have passed the point of believing there is any point in living for me (ungrateful stupid bitch that I am), I don’t even know if you could class this as ‘living’… it feels much more like I’m just functioning on some sort of auto-pilot and trapped in my own never ending version of Groundhog Day.

The thing is that when I have experienced extreme low’s before I have acted upon them a few times. I know what will happen now if I shovel a few handfuls of tablets down my throat just to ‘make it all stop’ and I know what will happen if I take enough tablets to kill me. And I remember how terrifying it was in that moment where I wanted my life to be over so very badly, where I could not handle another day of being alive, where I completely lost control and swallowed a ridiculous number of tablets. And I remember that moment soon after where I felt extremely physically unwell, very dizzy, nauseas, holding onto the walls to keep me upright and just knowing that if I let myself lay down and close my eyes then there would be a very good chance I wouldn’t wake back up. And that actually scared the hell out of me that time as I frantically hit 999 and begged for an ambulance and cried to the operator that I was getting dizzier and dizzier but couldn’t sit down because I knew that would be it, game over. So I slumped against the wall trying to stay with the woman on the phone, praying that the main door buzzer would start beeping any second so I could let them in and then stop fighting and just let my body do what it had to do. Pretty much everything from then through to the next day passed in a blur but I will never ever forget that moment of lying in A&E and hearing the male nurse shouting that my blood pressure was crashing, hearing the numbers and thinking ‘I might actually die here’ and suddenly being terrified that they wouldn’t be able to save me because it’s such a small hospital here. I truly truly thought that night was going to be my last, when you hear nurses and doctors all panicking and losing their cool around you it is a very scary experience.

So what is the point to all this rambling? I think it was my own way of trying to make sense of why I’m still here. My way of frantically trying to remind myself that there is at least one place that’s scarier than here and that’s lying in A&E having knuckles pressed hard against your collar bone as they shout at you to open your eyes and you actually can’t or when you hear them talking about needing a helicopter to get me to the main hospital asap or hearing the numbers of your blood pressure and knowing those numbers are way too low… knowing that you are now totally dependent on these people saving your life, that very same life that you so desperately wanted to end.

Having bipolar disorder has taken me to some crazy places within my own mind. The mood cycles and their unpredictability of when they will come and how long they will last for are crippling at times, but after the disaster has always come a little hint of stability if even only for a couple of weeks before a new ‘episode’ starts and you go through the whole cycle again. This time I genuinely am trying to avert disaster and find absolutely anything at all to cling onto, anything that will help this to pass and allow me to feel like I’m coping for a little while longer. Because as scary as this is the thought of lying back in that A&E department relying on people to save you or waking up to find myself in the psychiatric hospital again or even just the feeling of being a little bit judged by turning up needing sewn back together after cutting too deeply are all even more scary tonight than just sticking with the familiarity of this current episode, my ongoing version of mental hell.

18:25 – ‘Early warning signs’

17 Nov

Things really aren’t good at the moment. I remain behind with my uni work, completely unable to focus on it or concentrate. As soon as I open a textbook page to start reading my head starts thinking about everything else that I’ve messed up. The diet that started off so well, the start of the weight loss and then gaining it all back again. Not going to the gym for a couple of weeks now. Missed my first two appointments with new CPN, she left me a voicemail after missing her again yesterday asking me to phone her before she sends out another appointment but I just can’t see the point.

I feel very low. Very depressed and very unable to do anything. My days consist of nothing. Well nothing apart from my racing thoughts and the thoughts are so fast and strong that I just can’t do any one single thing. Those hopes and goals I had that by Christmas I would be a dress size smaller and would have completed my first module exam and they both seem like they are impossible to achieve now. I have three weeks to write a long detailed essay and complete module #1. Then Christmas break and then two more modules between January and June. Then Summer break then back to it all in August/September time.

To get an honours degree you need to complete 6 modules for each year, so 24 modules in total and a dissertation and that would take you 4 years to achieve. I’m doing it part time, 3 modules a year so it’s going to take me 8 years to achieve. By the end of my first year I’m only really six months in, will still have 21 modules and seven years to go. It’s such a long time. I don’t know that I have the belief in myself that I can do this. Only 11 weeks in and already so behind with everything. We are just starting week 11’s work tomorrow and I’m only on week 9. I just can’t seem to do it, do anything in fact at the moment.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I should be opening one of my textbooks and reading and taking notes. I should be blasting my way as fast as possible through week 9 and 10’s work and getting myself up to date. If I get any further behind I’m not sure if it will actually be possible to catch up. And I have had all week, every day as full days to be doing this work, I have no one to blame but myself. I haven’t even been attending appointments so it’s not like I’ve been in and out with having to go to them. I have seen my best friend once in the past couple of weeks and it was for no time at all. I don’t think I’ve seen my parents since my birthday at the end of October so I said I would go there for dinner tomorrow.

Everything just feels like it’s slipping away and I can’t catch it. I need to get back on course for uni work, I must not fail this exam, if I do then that is going to knock my last tiniest bit of confidence that I have left in myself… cannot let that happen… Best friend commented how proud she was of me for not being admitted to hospital yet this year as it usually starts around my birthday when everything goes downhill then finally starts to perk back up around March/April time. And it is all going downhill but I will not be hospitalised this year, I’m just going to have to deal with it all… I don’t know how yet but there must be a way…

Now the sensible thing to do would be to say to myself that I am going to do an hour or two of studying tonight and then the same tomorrow afternoon but I just know it won’t happen. Last night I just lay for hours staring at the ceiling, not even watching TV or listening to music… just lying here and staring. That’s all I seem to do.

I’m still no further forward with my housing transfer request either, I submitted a new form with more detailed answers a few weeks ago and heard back from them saying I still had the same low amount of points so that was quite disheartening… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape this flat, this sofa sleeping situation, the cold sheets of mdf that currently act as flooring.

I’m back to that place again where I want to give up. This same place I always arrive at over these “risky months” where I just can’t see the light or the future in anything and start to get sucked right into the crazy world, the fucked up thoughts, the bad behaviours and reaching that breaking point yet again. Can I stop this from happening? I guess that remains to be seen. I still haven’t self harmed, I’m still resisting the urge, but this now scares me as I have held it in for that long that I know if the time comes where I do it – and do it with my head being in a crazy place – then the result is going to be a bad injury.

I’m sorry, I’m rambling and full of some sort of self pity, feeling sorry for myself, I need to get a fucking grip and turn things back around to the way they were at least semi productive (even if not particularly happy) a couple of months ago.

In my crisis plan which I revised for new CPN a couple of weeks ago (but haven’t gone to see her since) – in my “warning signs” section it says -

  • anxiety, panicking and worrying about things
  • lose interest in the future/have bad thoughts about the future
  • lose concentration, focus and motivation
  • not able to sleep properly
  • feeling very irritable
  • self isolating/don’t want to see anyone
  • ignore phone calls/texts
  • everything feels very negative
  • don’t attend appointments
  • self harm, suicidal thoughts and racing thoughts occur

Looks like I could put a tick next to every single one of them right now.

What do I need to do differently if I encounter these situations?

  • contact someone and share how I’m feeling rather than trying to cope alone and self isolating
  • try to speak to someone before acting upon thoughts that lead to self harming or other dangerous behaviours
  • try to do something that makes me happy and contented – try to calm down and diffuse the situation in my head

I don’t think I will see anyone tonight but perhaps I could make a call and get some things off my chest. I don’t know I guess I’ll see how tonight goes. I know I will probably not be honest with my parents tomorrow over dinner, I’ll probably admit to being a little bit behind with stuff and admit to that stressing me out but I doubt I will tell them the full truth about being two weeks behind, not attending my appointments, not going to the gym, not going out the house apart from when it’s dark in the late afternoon, evening, during the night, early in the morning. But then they will probably find out about not attending appointments when they ask how I’m getting on with new CPN and I either need to lie and say fine, or tell the truth that I’ve only seen her once then missed the second and third appointment.

And when one truth comes out then a second one is usually close behind until I realise I’m back there again… Or should that be back ‘here’ again…

 

 

 

18:11 – A day at the beach

7 Aug

Yipee! It has been beautiful sunshine all day so me, best friend and the kids and her other friend with her van full of kids all decided to go to the beach for a barbecue. I took a change of clothes with me and although I wasn’t stripping down to tiny little shorts like they all had on (I don’t show my scarred legs off!) I just kept a pair of leggings on and a top. We went out in the water right up past our waists, I so wanted to start swimming but it was just a teensy bit too cold for that. The dogs came too and enjoyed splashing around in the water and they even got a sausage each and some ice cream (they are spoilt rotten!)

The kids all had a great time, it was a bit chaotic as there was so many of them, but we all had good fun and I’m shattered now. The sun always tires me out! This is a photo of the beach:

Another thing that’s been happening in my life is that I’ve kind of met someone. I got talking to a guy online on Sunday and we have just totally clicked. We are so similar in so many ways and both of us have “history’s” or “past’s” but we are also both at a point in our lives where we are trying to do things to make life better. We are both starting Uni courses next month and whilst my background is mental health, psychiatric hospitals, sections, self harm and a bit of dabbling in drugs, he is an ex-alcoholic and ex-drug user who has been clean for a few years now. He is such a positive person and we haven’t stopped speaking since Sunday, we are constantly on Skype talking via webcam or texting or speaking on the phone. I feel a connection with him and he says he does with me as well. I’m not getting in over my head, I know we have only just ‘met’ but there is something about him where I don’t want to wait weeks or months talking online, I want to meet him in person as soon as possible, which is so unlike me. So we have decided to meet on Thursday and go on our first ‘date’. I’m really excited and nervous, as is he, but I have a really good feeling about it. I think we are going to get on really well and I think he would be a good person to have in my life. He is very much of the attitude of living for the day and believing in yourself, in fact it was him who sent me the videos I posted earlier.

So things have picked back up again after the extreme lows that led up to Saturday night’s hospital visit. I have an appointment with Mr Psychiatrist tomorrow and am still going to tell him about the lows but mostly things are feeling good again. Even if it’s only temporary I’m going to enjoy it while it lasts. Don’t get me wrong, it is hard. It’s not coming naturally to me to be kind to myself, it would be so much easier to be negative about everything, those feelings come all too easily. But the thing is that I want to change, I want to get better, I want to recover and I want to have a future. Those are feelings I haven’t had in a very long time and I so hope that they last.

16:46 – They say you only get out of life what you put into it

2 Aug

They say you only get out of life what you put into it and I’m sitting here thinking back over the years to what I’ve put into mine. I’ve been guilty of a lot of things over the past 30 years, taking more than giving, giving and being let down. I’ve put love into relationships and been guilty of not loving myself, nor even liking myself at times. I have tried to make people proud of me through things like going to university then been guilty of dropping out of courses. I tried to be a mummy and lost my little angel through reasons I will never understand. I have put too much time into self destructive behaviours and scarred my body badly for life. Those scars make me feel unattractive and unlovable. I wonder when I start this next college course if I am going to succeed this time or if past history is going to continue to repeat itself and I’m going to fail at this as well.

The only thing that has been continuous in my life over the past six years has been the love of my family and that of my little dogs. I have loved and lost in my relationships and been so hurt that I cannot envisage ever entering into a new one. I look at friends and family members with jealousy that they have met the right person or had the beautiful babies. But they say you get out of life what you put into it and the mistakes I have made in the past like putting drugs and alcohol into my body as some sort of medication of course could only result in one thing – messing my head up even more.

I’ve seen myself at the lowest of lows, I’ve watched myself completely lose it and attempt to end my life. I’ve seen myself been sectioned into psychiatric hospitals and live every day taking medication to try and keep my head at some sort of level where I can both appear sane and still function. If I try harder this time round, if I really put the effort into this course can I complete it to the end and feel proud of myself that I have achieved something positive with my life? I really hope so. I don’t want to go back to that place where all I can think about is suicide and hurting myself and yet these past few weeks everything seems to be stressing me so much that those are the very thoughts I am battling against.

I don’t want my life to be a battle any more. I want to find some sort of happiness. Maybe I’m not going to have the chance to be a mummy, maybe I am going to continue to have such bad trust issues that I will remain single, maybe I won’t get the housing transfer into the little cottage with the garden that I want and end up in this little flat for years still to come. But I have to put some sort of effort into my life to make it better, happier. I want to wake up and look forward to the day ahead and not wake up with dread that it’s another day and that I’m still here.

Today I have realised that you get out of life what you put into it and no matter how hard it is I have to start to change some of my behaviours or else the remainder of my life is going to be just a never ending journey of mental health problems and struggles to stay alive. I have to achieve something, anything, or else what is the point to it all? There is no point. I cannot spend my life going from one crisis to another even though that’s just what seems to happen. But nothing is ever going to change and I’m never going to be happy if I allow that to be my life.

I don’t know how to change it, for that I need help. But I know I have to start making small baby step changes or I’m never going to have a life, just a horrible back to back set of events all sent to test me until I can literally take no more and decide it is time to give up once and for all.

There has to be more than this? Surely?

21:55 – Why so emotional?

17 Jun

I went out last night and got pretty drunk. I tried so hard to relax and have a good time but my stitches were stinging like mad which kept me constantly aware of the damage I’d done to myself. The pubs were busy and I got to see some friends I hadn’t seen in a while, which was nice and yet at the same time it was so depressing when they ask what I’ve been up to lately and as usual I had nothing much to say for myself. Then of course I ask them what they have been up to lately and they all have stories about work or their kids or their relationships – all the things I don’t have. I decided the best move was just to get as shit faced drunk as possible and downed shot after shot until I could barely walk. At one point I saw the drugs nurse out with her friends and threw my arms round her – that’s going to be embarrassing when I see her tomorrow. I don’t have much to say to her, I haven’t taken any drugs not even smoked a cannabis joint in weeks, hence why I haven’t felt the need to carry on with the relapse prevention work – but she likes to ‘check in’ with me every so often. So she is coming here tomorrow at 1pm and bringing a student with her which I reluctantly agreed too.

This morning I woke up feeling extremely hungover, threw up, lay on the sofa crying my eyes out just feeling so emotional and depressed. My male friend appeared down mid afternoon which was probably a good thing as I was very much starting to think about going to the DIY shop and acquiring more blades. Instead I left him to play about on my laptop whilst I went for a shower and calmed my head down.

I went up to give my Dad his Father’s Day card and present and then met up with my best friend for a couple of hours. We went up to the cemetery and took some flowers up for my little man and then went and got dinner (which I subsequently vomited up again) and then I made my excuses to leave and come home. Since I walked through the door all I have done is cry and cry and even raked through the bin bag to find the blade I used yesterday, cleaned it up and for the past hour have just sat here clutching onto it like it’s some sort of safety blanket. And again I am in tears, again I don’t know what I’m crying about, I don’t know why I feel so fucking low but I am scared I am heading into another depressive episode.

My emotions seem to be a hell of a lot of anger (towards myself) and very tearful. I don’t feel as though I am in control of them, I’m scared because I feel so mixed up and I don’t feel as though I can tell anyone how bad I feel. I am seeing my CPN on Tuesday but I might phone tomorrow and ask if she can see me then instead because my head feels seriously fucked up. I think I’m at a real risk of hurting myself again and I can’t put my family through all that when they are going through such serious stuff with the cancer. Everyone is solely concentrating on my Aunt and rightly so, how can I be so selfish to worry my parents about my crazy head at a time like this? The answer is that I can’t. I must deal with this myself and pull myself back out of it before it gets any worse. Maybe it’s already at the ‘worse’ stage as all the thoughts of hurting myself just flow one after the other through my mind. When the doctor in the a&e asked me if I was suicidal I said no. And that was the truth at the time.

Is it still the truth now? I really don’t know.

20:40 – Just had a realisation

5 May

I have just realised something and I am now sitting here in tears. I couldn’t explain to anyone why I want to move house so badly; well I could give some reasons but I couldn’t fully explain it. And suddenly (after a couple of glasses of wine) I find myself in tears because what I said at the very end of the last post is it. It is the reason why I want to move so badly. Because this house is a house of firsts, a house of pain, a house with too many memories keeping me trapped. I need to free myself from it, but actually freeing myself from it might be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do – because it means closure.

It was in this very room I’m sitting in now that I fell both in and out of love. It was in this room that I cried with happiness at the first sight of my engagement ring – it was in this room that I clung to my ex and felt like I had actually seen his soul as I saw the pain in his eyes as we came home from the hospital with our empty arms after losing our baby. It was in this room when I self harmed again for the first time in years. Where I was sectioned under the mental health act. Where my best friend found me dissociated and covered in blood. Where I’ve shot, smoked and snorted drugs to try and detach from the world. Where my relationship ended. The first place we kissed and the last place we screamed.

And I won’t even get started with the memories the bedroom brings…

I am trapped in the past in this flat. There has simply been too much that has happened here and if I am ever to find a future I need a new starting point, one that isn’t tainted but is clean and fresh. It means saying goodbye to the moments of going into my bedroom and just lying on the bed staring at the space where the little swinging crib was, it means saying goodbye to the place I not only began losing my son but also the place I conceived him and got that positive pregnancy test.

That is all in the past though. Leaving this flat will give me a little bit of closure to the pain that I’m reminded of just by looking at something so simple as a patch on a wall, the pain of occasionally opening a drawer innocently and finding a love letter sent from the man I sat in this room waiting on whilst he served in Iraq. The man I was totally dedicated to. That part of my life is over now and has been for three years. My son has been gone for five. I have been in here for six. The only thing that’s been consistent from me first moving in until this present moment is one of my little dogs, he has been there through everything, if only I could have seen myself how he must have seen me sometimes.

I think it will hurt like fuck closing the door on this place, like I said I’m crying just thinking about it, because closure hurts right? I just need to get it into my head that closure doesn’t mean forgetting, it means being able to move on and keep the precious memories in my heart.

And that’s my realisation on why I need to say goodbye to this place and start afresh.

And you know what, for all the people who think I’m fucking crazy when I talk about my voices, well it was Lucifer who helped me realise all of this. He helps me, people might not get that because I do ‘bad things’ as well to make him happy but he also talks so much sense. Lucifer is my ruler and you know what, I’m fucking proud to say that.

Anyway I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, it could take a year or so to get a new place but it’s finally like someone has just switched a lightbulb on and made me realise the core, the pit of my sadness here, rather than just all of the things that in comparison are just an annoyance.

22:34 – The one (and only) appt with new GP

18 Apr

I have lost count how many hours I’ve been awake for now, but I know it is too many. I haven’t had a single nap all day and have taken a fair amount of diazepam/sleeping pills. I felt a bit drowsy around 2pm while waiting on my addictions nurse to come round and when I looked in the mirror I really did look a bit of a mess. So just as I’m slapping on some make-up my phone started ringing and it was my addictions nurse; she had been feeling ill all morning and had decided to go home. She was very apologetic about it so I wasn’t annoyed or anything.

I met my best friend with her kids for a little while, her 3 year old is a ‘big boy’ now because he has started nursery! It’s so cute, they all have their little coat hangers with a picture and their name on it. He couldn’t get me in the door fast enough to show me his hanger was the one with the dolphin on it! Bless!

Later in the afternoon I went to my GP appointment. By this point all the sleepy/anxiety pills had worn off and I felt completely shattered. I arrived 10 minutes early and took a seat in the waiting room. My appointment was for 4.10pm. Finally at 4.45pm I was called through, she is a new doctor and to be honest she didn’t seem to have a bloody clue what she was doing! She asked what she could do for me and I quickly told her I try and touch base with my GP once a month and get my monthly prescriptions (which are dispensed weekly) so she said that was fine and brought my medication details on screen.

40mg Citalopram a day? Yes!

8mg Diazepam a day? No! 16mg!

200mg Quetiapine a day? No! 300mg! Then I tell her the Quetiapine has to be increased by 50mg a fortnight. So she goes off into my virtual file and looks for a letter from my consultant psych confirming this. She can’t find the letter. She isn’t happy prescribing the Diazepam when she couldn’t tell if it meant ‘take 2 two times a day’ or ‘take 2 four times a day’. It’s the latter.

She randomly asked how I was and I bet she wished she hadn’t as out poured everything about Satan and how I will be branding myself with him tomorrow (tattoo day, yay!) and telling her about all the self harming and bible quotes I have carved all over myself. She actually looked a bit speechless. Then she asked me to go back to the waiting room as she wasn’t writing my prescription until she had spoken to my usual GP.

Now remember I arrived at 4pm, was seen at 4.45pm, come back to waiting room at 5.05pm and sit… and wait…

Finally at 5.40pm the GP called me back through and apologised for the mix up. I had also asked her to ask lovely GP if I could have something to help me sleep at the moment and she gave me 8 tablets. Not much but hopefully over the next 3/4 nights of taking them I will be able to sleep for more than just a few hours at a time.

I think that will be my one and only experience with new GP. I will just stick to lovely GP who has always made me feel like somehow things might just be OK one day. As has lovely social worker, but she is in hibernation again I think. I hope she is going to come to my first appointment with new CPN on Wednesday to help break the ice a little.

I took one of the sleeping pills about an hour ago and so far feel nothing. My body is like a tank against anything benzo related I tell you. I’m going to take a second one and a few diazepam and with any luck I will sleep until morning and not be up blogging at 5am!

I am meeting best friend for lunch tomorrow. It would be really nice if it all goes to plan, that I wake up on time and get ready in time and make it to the cafe in time! Three such simple things really can be so fucking hard.

P.S. I just published this post (my 575th if you’re interested!) and got this little quote, isn’t it lovely?

‘Dreams are illustrations from the book your soul is writing about you.’  Marsha Norman

22:43 jelly bodies

11 Apr

Had a very busy afternoon. Got best friend earrings and took her out for dinner. Her mum looked after the kids for a couple of hours. I got a new charger for my phone (on which im writing this blog post) and a new cordless house phone. Spent way too much money today. Tonight i see a male friend and told him id got my hands on some pills. We took 2 of the little blue ones each and they’re so fucking trippy we were both glued to the couch, really chatty but jelly bodies when attempting any form of movement or coordination. We both seemed to find it hilarious attempting to stand up i seem to recall. I have curled myself up on the sofa with a blanket and juice and smokes. Sleep is more than welcome but im enjoying my jelly body feeling while it lasts. Definitely need to try more than two next time!

Protected: 18:22 – Adiós Amigos

1 Sep

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Protected: 11:08 – Trip to a&e and a bit of an update

24 May

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