Tag Archives: sad

13:03 – New Year’s Day & All Alone Again

1 Jan

So here we are, a new year has started and I wish so much that my very first ramblings in 2013 could start off sounding – positive/happy/stable – any of them would do.

But the reality is that I went to bed around 1am and left the room completely dark apart from one little candle flickering away next to my bed. Outside there were still fireworks going off and lots of drunk (but happy) sounding people all shouting happy new year to one another. I reached into my bedside drawer and got out a photograph of my little angel and using the light from the candle I gently stroked my fingers over his little face, his hand, his little mouth and I couldn’t fight the tears… then was crying so much I couldn’t see the photo any more so held it tight against my heart and cried with so many emotions going around and around inside me.

I woke up just before 7am this morning and as I opened my eyes there was the photo just lying on the pillow next to me and I couldn’t fight it or control it, the emotions overtook me again and I before I’d even had the chance to wake up properly I was sobbing my heart out again. And with every tear that rolled down my cheek there would be a horrible thought that accompanied it, the overwhelming sensation of being completely alone, knowing I was entering another day with no one around me, where I’d probably not see anyone or speak to anyone all day. It would just be silence, other than the noise in my head. And usually this is good, being left alone is what I spend so much time trying to achieve, but I just felt this completely unbearable deep sadness when I woke up this morning that this is my life… a 31 year old woman, single, mentally unstable, still unable to grieve properly for my angel despite it approaching six years, still feeling completely trapped by my own mind.

It all started getting too much, the really bad thoughts were whirling around and they were starting to scare me. So I got up and immediately got dressed and took the dogs for an early morning walk. I didn’t see one other person outside. Then again it was only around 8.30am. I came back home and put the TV on (for background noise if nothing else) and now all I feel is lots and lots of anxiety. I never want to see people, I do everything I can to shut people out the majority of the time, I ignore phonecalls and text messages and anyone who comes to my door. I want to hide away and rot in my own mess but for some reason being alone with my thoughts is really quite scary at the moment.

So yeah, 2013 isn’t exactly starting on a very happy note, but I don’t want these horrible thoughts in my head telling me to do bad things to myself. I’m really not too sure how today is going to pan out, I guess it depends on how much effort I put into fighting back.

Sorry for yet another depressed and self pitying post, I hoped my first post of 2013 could be one where I was happy and full of new year’s resolutions, but I am very much struggling to see anything positive about the year ahead at the moment. However I do hope that this will change and that I won’t have a repeat of last January where things went downhill so quickly that I had overdosed within the first week and ended up in the psych hospital by the middle of the month.

For the time being, all I can do is concentrate on getting through today, minute by minute and hour by hour trying to keep myself safe (from myself) and not let the bad thoughts win. But that is so much easier said than done. They grind me down until I believe everything they say and when you are ground right down to nothing it is so very very hard to do any kind of ‘fighting back’. So I guess I just ‘ride with it’ and try to control things to the best of my ability.

Ah fuck, here come the tears again. Where the hell did they come from??

OK, I think it’s time to stop writing now.

Before I go I just want to say Happy New Year to you all, and thank you for all the words of support and encouragement you gave me throughout 2012… I wonder what 2013 has in store for us all…

22:38 – When you just can’t find the words

16 Dec

I feel as though the increase in Quetiapine has made me a bit stupid. I get half way through sentences and completely forget what I’m rambling on about. So then I look double as crazy because not only was I rambling about something nonsensical to begin with I can’t even make my nonsense have a point to it.

Tonight it would seem I can’t find the words to write about what I want to write about. I actually wanted to write a somewhat intelligent post about a question I have swirling around my brain but I don’t know the right words tonight.

Additional to that thought I am also thinking a lot about my angel baby, about heaven, about Christmas without him again… These thoughts are making me feel lonely and sad. Lonely and sad inject themselves into the already ridiculously strong self harm urges. Visually I can picture graphic wounds and I want them so badly. Not the scars, I fucking hate the scars, I always feel ashamed of them and jealous of people who can view them as their ‘war wounds’ – then – maybe they view them that way because they’re winning their war and I’m still stuck right in the middle of mine. At war with myself, that sounds pretty apt. So the scars I know I don’t want, but the release… I need the release… I need to bleed and bleed and feel some of this badness leaving my body. I need that so much, I don’t know the words to express how badly I need this.

So why do I keep saying it but not doing it? Simple. I don’t want anyone to see or know. And I know I would have no control over the severity of the wound if I were to cut with the head crazies present. I have tried letting myself do very very shallow cuts over the past few weeks, barely more than scratches, as I thought by doing this it would calm the more severe thoughts down a bit. But it hasn’t, they are worse than ever.

Sorry, I just can’t find the words tonight to write anything else. My head isn’t in a very good place this evening. I have my weekly appointment with new CPN tomorrow morning at 10am, I have no idea what we are going to talk about. I’m having one of my ‘I don’t want to go to the appointment’ moments and can’t see the point to it at all, maybe I will feel different in the morning.

Then at some point during the day tomorrow the carpet fitter is coming to deliver all the new flooring which he is coming back to lay on Tuesday and Wednesday. So I need to get everything out of the living room tomorrow night and put it in the bedroom so he can lay the flooring in the living room on Tuesday and then somehow move everything back into the living room and all of my bedroom furniture into the living room so he can lay the bedroom carpet on Wednesday. And then move all the bedroom stuff back in there. So it’s going to be a busy few days which I probably need even though it means having strangers in my flat for a couple of days which I sincerely don’t like. It’s most anxiety provoking and horrible. But it will be some kind of distraction I guess. I have also bought new bedding and have decided to move the bedroom stuff around so that it all looks different, and put some nice wall art up as well.

And maybe one day I’ll manage to sleep in that room again. You would think after 10 months of sleeping on a two seater sofa I’d be desperate to get into a nice big double bed again… But no… That bedroom is a total head and mind fuck.

So yeah, I guess I can sum up by saying I’m not feeling too great mentally although I’m starting to feel slightly physically better. I took my 5th tablet (out of 28) today to heal the suspected stomach ulcer and was only nauseous in the morning, an hour or two after taking the tablet I began to feel better and kept my dinner down this evening so I’m glad that the amount of time spent with my head down the toilet is now on the decrease.

Even though it’s only 10.30pm I’m going to bed (to wrap a duvet around me on the sofa)… turn the lights out… watch a couple of new stand up comedy DVD’s that have just come out… and hope I laugh until I fall asleep. If I don’t laugh I fear I may cry and I can’t handle tears tonight.

Goodnight folks xx

00:12 – Impossible

11 Dec

Why it’s called impossible – I can’t stop listening to the UK X Factor winner James Arthur’s song. Didn’t watch X Factor, Impossible isn’t his song, but something about it makes sense. I guess life feels pretty impossible right now.

‘Tell them I was happy,

And my heart is broken,

All my scars are open….’

Should you wish to listen to it whilst reading my ramblings of today here it is:

I woke up this morning and couldn’t remember if my appointment with new CPN was at 1pm or 2pm so thought I better phone the mental health team and find out. To my (pleasant) surprise it was my the social worker whom I was once very close to who answered the phone. We chatted for ten minutes and it was nice to hear her voice but it also made me feel a little bit sad afterwards.

I try not to think about it so much any more because I have accepted now that I am never going to get to work with her again. If I see or speak to her these days it’s more a case of bumping into her in the mental health place. I feel like I can’t ask her for anything any more, not even a chat and sometimes that feels really shit because she was still is the only professional who I’ve ever felt understood me. She totally understood why I hate Christmas so much, she came with me to my little man’s headstone up at the cemetery one time and put flowers down with me. She probably doesn’t remember that because she’s probably dealt with that many crises’ since then that little memories like that are likely to be long forgotten. But at least I can smile looking back on that, even if it also makes me a little sad to know that’s pretty unlikely to ever happen again.

If I think about it all now it just makes me angry. And sad. I still don’t properly understand why they couldn’t just leave me to work with the person I was comfortable with and trusted. I don’t understand why or when or who decided it should be a CPN I work with instead. I felt like I was making progress working with her and I don’t know who decided I’d make better progress with a CPN but I do feel that their decision was a wrong one. I’ve gone from working with someone who I felt like I could tell anything to and who I trusted enough to do graded exposure work with for my agoraphobia, to two temporary CPN’s and now a third but permanent one and I feel like I have achieved nothing by working with them. Besides starting the university course, the second temporary CPN gave me encouragement to apply for it, but mood-wise things have remained pretty unsettled.

Anyway I vowed the last time I wrote about the whole social worker situation that it would be the last time I wrote about it because reading my posts back made me feel a bit pathetic that I was getting so upset over one member of my care team being changed. But you know what, when you work with someone closely over a long period of time you build some form of relationship, you build a trust and that person feels like someone safe to you that you can confide in and be honest with, even when you’re telling them about the brain crazies you feel OK because you just know that they truly aren’t judging you. And when someone comes along one day and says ‘right you’re going to be working with person X from now onwards and not this nice social worker that you’ve built a relationship with any more’ it kinda does feel like a bit like you’re being rejected of a punch in the gut.

Hmm what was that word I started with again… oh yeah… impossible.

Anyway I’m not talking about this any more, I sound like a fucking broken record!

I went to see new CPN at 2pm. I couldn’t seem to express myself very well at all today. I’d start saying something then totally lose my train of thought. Then be sitting there aware that I was talking but with complete mind-blank about what I was saying. In the end we just talked a bit about the uni course, I told her I’d submitted a final assignment but that I was far from happy with it. I think I will pass but probably just scrape a pass and to be honest I’d rather fail and get to rewrite it completely than get a D.

We also talked a little about my appointment last week with Mr Psychiatrist and I told her about his little speech about my ‘negative thought patterns’ which I guess there is some truth in… and how he is still annoying me by asking at the last few appointments I’ve had with him for reasons why I’m feeling depressed. He is a consultant psychiatrist. He has been a psychiatrist for many years. He makes diagnoses and has the power to take all control away from a person and detain them. My point is he is an experienced and I dare say very intelligent man in his field… so why the fuck does he insist on asking someone with a mood disorder (that he diagnosed) what it is that’s going on in their life to be making them depressed? I don’t have one particular reason. There is not one particular thing in my life making me feel this way. Sometimes it’s just the fucking Bipolar Disorder that makes me this way – surely to God he can understand that?!

Again… Impossible…

New CPN agreed about the negative thought patterns and started saying something about mindfulness and being compassionate and I pretty much said straight out that I just can’t even begin to think about being compassionate to myself right now. I want to cut myself, hurt myself, bleed, drain out the bad blood in me, these little scratches are not helping, it needs to be done properly. But then I look at my arms and my legs where bad wounds and stitches have been before and some of the scars really are a pretty horrendous sight. More than anything the main reason I feel I need to do it is because (a) I deserve it and (b) I need the huge rush of release I get from it. The reason I haven’t acted on it properly yet is because I am terrified that if I do it then I’m going to completely lose control and start slipping down that spiral at a ridiculously fast rate. But the racing thoughts, the whispers and giggles racing around my brain make me want to explode at times… I need things to slow down…

My brain… impossible…

I came out of the session with new CPN actually feeling really quite confused for some reason. Conveniently right across the road from the mental health team is a DIY store and even though I knew I still had half a pack of blades in the house I wanted more. I began to head in that direction when my phone started ringing. It was my Dad wanting to know if I’d like him to come and measure the rooms in my flat and go to look at flooring again. He probably called at just the right time and I agreed to head back home. He came down shortly after that and measured up then we went to the carpet shop and I got a couple of cheaper off-cuts for the hallway and bathroom, a gorgeous carpet for the bedroom, wood effect vinyl flooring for the living room and a big shaggy rug. It came to almost £550 (that includes fitting) and Mum is putting it on her credit card for me to pay off bit by bit. So it looks like it might take two days because I’ll need to move all the furniture out one room and into the other and then vice versa but they are coming to definitely fit the first carpet on the 18th and I’ve been assured it will all be done by Christmas.

(Christmas in my bed… sleeping in my bedroom again… impossible?)

They are trying so hard to make me happy and get me safely through these upcoming tough couple of months and it makes me feel a little bit mixed up. I feel like I’m constantly putting on an act when I see them and when I smile it feels so fake and pretend. I don’t want them to worry about me so I’m keeping this bout of head crazies to myself as much as possible. I also feel a bit pathetic that at 31 years old I can’t finance my own ‘home improvements’. I feel thankful that I have such loving parents who are in a position to be able to help me. I feel emotional and sad that at 31 I haven’t achieved anything that I thought I would have achieved by this age. Well I have achieved some of them… they just tore my heart to pieces didn’t turn out as planned…

I really didn’t mean for this to turn into such a self pitying post. Sorry. Anyway that’s my ramblings over with for tonight, that’s been my day, as for tomorrow I have absolutely nothing planned. There is no studying for me to at least attempt, there are no appointments to attend, maybe it will be a day for lying around in my onesie doing nothing apart from over thinking no doubt.

Writing a happy blog post, that’s what’s fucking impossible…

Goodnight folks

23:08 – My heart hurts

9 Dec

Like the title says really…

Why can’t I just feel normal?

Why have I spent today hiding from the world, ignoring calls and texts and spent a large proportion of the day in tears. I don’t even know what I’m crying about.

I’m having one of those days where you sit on youtube and watch music videos with lyrics that somehow touch your soul and move you to a point where you end up replaying it over and over and over again and just letting the tears roll down your cheeks.

I have an appointment with new CPN tomorrow. As usual, I don’t want to go. I also have to see lovely GP on Wednesday and support worker on Wednesday. I don’t really want to speak to anyone, I’m more in the mindset where I really just want to be left alone to discreetly make my exit.

This evening I have phoned the Samaritans about four or five times and not even managed to say hello when they answered. I just end the call and start crying again.

If I really must go to these appointments this week then I think when I see GP on Wednesday I’m going to go ahead and ask for my Quetiapine to be increased to 700mg. It can’t make me feel any worse and maybe it will just help enough to keep me from acting upon these thoughts that are getting worse and worse by the day. I’m just really scared that I’ll admit to lovely GP how utterly crap I am feeling. She just has a way of making me feel like it’s OK to tell her the truth and I don’t have that with new CPN (yet?) and to be honest I really wish the social worker I was once really close too was still around because lovely GP tends to panic and mentioned the dreaded H word when I’m too honest with her. At least lovely social worker understood, or so I thought back then.

I feel so miserable. I feel lonely even though I don’t want to be around people and I just want to shut everyone out whilst I nurse my crazy head through these horrible dark and gloomy days. My heart feels as though it’s breaking over something, but I don’t know what. But that is where the pain is when I cry, my heart feels like it aches. I know that sounds a bit dramatical but it’s true. My heart hurts. And I feel very empty and very sad.

Goodnight folks

 

Image

17:04 – Where’s the missing piece…

17 Nov

22:34 – The night-time crazy emotions and tears

28 Sep

It’s happening again… for the past couple of hours all I have done is cry. And again I am crying over nothing at all but cannot seem to stop myself. There is no reason for this and I don’t understand why it keeps happening. I just feel this lump start to rise in my throat, completely out of the blue and unrelated to anything and then my eyes well up and then the tears start to trickle down my cheeks until I’m in the state I’m in at the moment… huge big sobs, heaving, trying to catch my breath, my nose all snotty and mascara all over my face.

And I just cannot get it to stop. I have Alan Carr Chatty Man on TV which usually makes me Laugh Out Loud but it’s like I’m disconnected from it, I’m stuck in this state of shaking and crying and it won’t stop. It doesn’t stop until I’m all cried out, which sometimes takes hours. It’s been at least two already and I still have no control over myself.

It’s when I get in states like this that I think I need to do something drastic to make it stop – like cut myself – just so I have something visible, physical, some pain I can see and then the emotional pain calms down. And I’m not going to lie, I do still have a pack of blades in the drawer but I won’t use them, not tonight. I already have two wounds in the process of healing and I certainly am not going to a&e on a Friday night when it will no doubt be full of drunks.

I am going to try and do something sensible for once and call someone. I don’t know who yet, but I know it has to be someone I don’t know, I don’t want to speak to family or friends, I think I might phone a helpline based here in Scotland for people affected with mental health problems. I’ve known they exist for ages but have only ever called them once, quite recently actually, and found them to be quite helpful as they aren’t just a listening service but can offer advice as well.

I need to hear a voice so I stop feeling so alone. TV isn’t stopping the tears, writing these words isn’t stopping the tears, thoughts are starting to head in a bad direction and I need someone to just listen to my shit and then maybe it will all stop.

I just don’t understand why this keeps happening. I don’t understand what I’m so upset about. I don’t understand what the tears are for. It just keeps happening at completely random times for completely random reasons. In the past few weeks I have cried my eyes out so bloody many times it is just getting ridiculous but I seem to have no control over it. This afternoon when my Dad was here, he was painting, I was half taking down uni notes and half playing with the dogs and then out of nowhere I felt it, that big lump, my eyes welling up and I had to put the dogs on their lead and put my hood up as it was pouring with rain and just walk for half an hour trying to stop myself crying, then I came home and was OK for a few hours and then it started again because a fleeting thought went through my head of how I always tell my Mum I love her at the end of a phone call, the end of a text or when I’m saying bye after I’ve seen her – and I had the sudden realisation that I couldn’t remember the last time I told my Dad I loved him and he has done so much for me recently. And he was in the bathroom painting and I was in the living room quietly letting tears run down my face and I got totally stuck in this thought “does my Dad know I love him?”

Eventually it stopped. He went home around 7pm. I had an hour roughly of feeling normal and then it started again. And it’s still going now. It just won’t stop but right now I have no thoughts in my head, I’m not thinking about anything other than why the fuck am I crying again…

If it hadn’t been happening for weeks now I could maybe say it was to do with the fact I’m on a course of Provera to induce a period and it was hormones… or I could say it was due to being in the early stages of this Atkins super low carb dieting… but I know it’s not them because this has been happening since before either of those started.

It is something deep in the pit of me that is aching but I don’t know what it is aching over and I don’t know how to make it stop other than by hurting myself and the sobs are coming harder again because I know I will not allow myself to hurt myself tonight.

Quite simply, this already hurts too much.

21:31 – And I finally lost the plot

12 Sep

Today has been a shit day. This post has talk of self harm just to let you know in advance.

I had a shit night’s sleep, I woke up in a horrible mood, I was crying within half an hour of being awake. Thoughts were just spiralling round and round in my head, I felt so many emotions, I felt so angry and so alone and so messed up. I tried to go back to sleep, it was only 7am but I couldn’t. I tried to distract myself watching TV but I was just blank. So I sat and wrote a letter, to no one in particular, about how I felt regarding my care team at the moment. Basically a lot of what I wrote in my last post – that I felt completely unsupported by them right now. Come 9am I knew that today was going to be the day I lost the plot and did something stupid. By 10.30am I had got a stanley knife blade (yes I went blade shopping again yesterday after getting rid of them all just a couple of weeks ago) and that stanley knife blade resulted in an angry slash right down over my calf muscle. I then put a bandage around it and tried to go back to sleep.

But the sleep didn’t happen. There was blood everywhere despite a tight bandage being on. So I got dressed and walked the dogs. Then around 11.45 I took myself to a&e and sat there depressed, saying very little, just showed them my leg without even looking at it myself and heard her saying it would definitely need stitches. She asked me to go back to the waiting room because the room where the stitches were was being used but by this point it was like 12.35 and I had my CPN at 1pm. So I phone my CPN and tell her I am in a&e waiting for stitches and might be a little bit late. She tells me I have until 1.20pm to get there or she won’t be able to see me until next week. How that is the case when our appointments last an hour I don’t know but anyway I went back to the a&e nurse and told her and she said she didn’t think I’d be stitched up by 1.20pm so she took me back into the room and put a dressing and another tight bandage around my leg and told me to go to my appointment – the mental health team building is in the same grounds as the hospital – and to come back straight after it to get stitched up.

So I went to the appointment with CPN and I read her the letter I had written earlier in the morning. I straight out told her that I thought she had dealt with the situation on Friday really badly, that she hadn’t followed my crisis plan and had just passed the buck to my GP. She said to me if I didn’t feel like she was supporting me properly then she would ask the manager to assign me to work with someone else. I told her I didn’t want that to happen, what I wanted was for her to admit that she didn’t follow my crisis plan correctly. She neither admitted nor denied it, she said she was sorry I felt that way and I carried on with my letter.

The next part of the letter spoke about the amount of time I spent working with the last CPN on composing the crisis plan and how I feel as though I’ve always stuck to my part – i.e. if I have put myself in any medical danger I don’t call the mental health team I take responsibility for what I have done and I go to a&e if the injury/overdose is serious enough. Yet their part of the crisis plan was to recognise that when I was in a crisis situation they would see me and make a plan to keep me safe for the next 24 hours for example. Has that happened when I’ve been expressing all these self harm and suicidal thoughts lately? No.

I then moved on to what the point of the CPA meetings were when the agreements made at them weren’t being kept by certain people. I told CPN I was angry that social worker had agreed to monthly contact and never followed through with it and was in fact, uncontactable in all ways. CPN agreed with me that was not good and she also said it was not good that a&e had been asked to tell them any time I attended there and they didn’t do that after the recent sexual assault, it was me who had to tell CPN then CPN apparently went up to a&e to ask what had gone on although I didn’t know that until today. So she wrote a letter to a&e telling them again that they must inform the mental health team of any of my visits.

CPN said to me she could see why I was feeling unsupported by them at the moment – well by my CPN and social worker. The woman from rape crisis and a&e and lovely GP have always been helpful and supportive. She said herself if it was her that was me she would probably be feeling quite rejected so she obviously realised that she didn’t follow the crisis plan correctly on Friday. She raised the issue about my social worker again and I said that I personally felt as though because 5 months has now passed where she hasn’t stuck to the monthly contact agreement that she no longer had an excuse and was just avoiding me because she wouldn’t know what to say to me any more if I asked her what was going on. CPN said this was very bad practice and asked me why I still wanted social worker in my care team if I felt this way. I had written down a list of reasons why I had wanted to keep social worker in my care team, like CPN asked me to on the phone yesterday and I gave her the list. She agreed with all my reasons and said they were all valid ones, but she still wondered why I wanted to keep someone in my care team when I felt so let down by them. She suggested it was out of some sort of loyalty and maybe she is right. When I was first going properly bonkers about 3 years ago my social worker was my rock. She was amazing. If I look back on posts way back when I first started writing this blog I talked so much about how lucky I was to have her in my care team and how much incredible support she gave me. And the thing is that despite the past 5 months, I still remember ‘back then’ I still remember her as the lovely social worker, the one who gave a damn about me. And no matter how frustrated and even angry I have felt/am feeling towards her at the moment I will never ever forget how much she made me feel like she cared. And that is something that is hard to let go of, I will still sing her praises even when I’m moaning about her and saying I think she is avoiding and ignoring me and that she no longer cares about me. What can I say? She spent a hell of a lot longer being a good person in my life than what she has spent as a not so good one and for some reason I hang onto that.

CPN then started to tell me that as she is leaving at the end of this month and going to be handing me over to the new permanent CPN that is starting, that there is going to be about a 4 week period where she will be busy with the new CPN and may not be able to see me much over that time while new CPN settles in. So her suggestion was that I work with social worker on a weekly basis for 4 weeks until I start working with new CPN properly and that this would also give the chance for me to feel supported by social worker again, for the bad feelings towards her to go away and then maybe at the end of the 4 weeks I would feel ready to say to social worker to go ahead and discharge me. I said I would like for that to happen but I knew it wouldn’t. I just know social worker will not see me again. CPN said that if she asks social worker to see me over those 4 weeks and thinks for any reason that social worker won’t stick to it then she will arrange for someone else to see me. She promised me she wouldn’t leave me with no contact person or appointments for a month.

Then… the most ‘pathetic?’ thing happens (I don’t want to call it that but that is genuinely how it looked and felt). CPN says she will walk me back to a&e to get my leg stitched up but needed to go to the toilet and put my notes away so she said to go and have a cigarette out the front and she’d be 5 minutes. So I’m standing outside having a smoke and I hear a car and naturally glance round. It is social worker. Now social worker ALWAYS parks right next to the mental health team building, then there is a kinda car park thing as well which only had maybe 4 cars in it. But social worker sees me standing there, we glance at each other for maybe a second, and she carries on driving right the way up to the furthest point she could get to where there are only two tiny little spaces. I turned my back and finished my cigarette. I glanced back round, she was still in her car away up the top. I almost laughed because I could be completely wrong but my head said to me – she has seen you and hopes you haven’t seen her and is actually hiding up there so you don’t speak to her – CPN then appears out the building and I say to her, “guess what social worker has just arrived back” so CPN says lets go and speak to her and see if we can sort this situation out. I say to CPN that she is in for a walk and point to where social worker has parked her car (and was STILL in her car). CPN looked genuinely puzzled and said she now didn’t know whether to agree with me that social worker was actually avoiding me, she said “I don’t understand why she has parked away up there, she always parks down here and there are plenty of spaces”. She said she would try and find an opportunity to speak to social worker and ask her if there was a reason why she wasn’t seeing me, and see if she could get some sort of answers for me. She also said she would give her the list that I wrote about why I wanted to keep her in my care team. And then came the magic moment, CPN says “why do you want to keep someone in your care team when they are ignoring you?” she ADMITTED it! She agreed with me! I’m not going bonkers, social worker really is avoiding me! And I have no idea why…

Gosh this post is getting long.

So we go back to a&e, CPN says she will see me next week and try and talk to social worker in the meantime, I sit in a&e for a while then the doctor came and got me – the same one who had seen me the day after the sexual assault. There was a nurse in the room as well who I have seen a couple of times after self harming and she is really nice. The doctor is nice as well, but was concerned about me. But then he asked to see the wound and there was a moment that was actually kind of amusing and made us all smile for a moment, he realised it was my calf muscle I had cut into and (sorry this is gross) but when I bent my leg you could see all the fat layers pushing right out of the cut, and the doctor’s face kinda went white just for a brief second and he said “I know I’m a doctor but there is something about calf muscles that has always made me feel a bit sick when I see them” and the nurse asked the poor guy if he wanted her to take over. We all giggled just for a second. But it took the horrible-ness of the situation away and relaxed things. The doctor took a breath and said no he would be brave and face his calf muscle fear lol. Between the two of them they got 4 sutures in, glue between all the sutures, steri-strips on top and then a dressing and bandage. I have to go back on Tuesday to have my stitches taken out.

He asked me why I did it and I told him my head has been really messed up since the assault, that I have had hard decisions to make regarding whether to make a formal police statement, that it has brought a lot of my childhood abuse memories back again and I was struggling with it all, but that I was getting good support from rape crisis. I told him we’d had a CPA meeting on Thursday last week and I’d told CPN and Mr Psychiatrist that I was having suicidal thoughts and had been self harming again, but I’d managed to keep the self harming quite shallow so it hadn’t needed medical attention. He said he knew this obviously wasn’t any kind of suicide attempt – after all who would cut their calf open to try and off themselves? But that he was concerned the suicidal thoughts were still there. I reassured him I didn’t want to walk down that path again and although the thoughts were present I had no plan to act on them. I told him I couldn’t put my family through that again and today I had cut out of anger and frustration and just feeling really utterly crappy and alone. He urged me to go back and see them if I thought I was going to act on the suicidal thoughts before I acted upon them and let them help me; but besides medicating me I don’t really know what they can do. I told him I’d been very low on Friday and had seen lovely GP and been given Nitrazepam to get me through the weekend but that I knew I couldn’t rely on medications to get me through all these emotions. Somehow I have to face them all and go through the hurt and the unpleasantness and not medicate my way through it all. He was glad to hear I had started my uni course on Monday and was managing to use that as some sort of a distraction.

And so, other than seeing my best friend and the kids for a little while and having dinner with them, that has been my day. I knew this day was coming, it was creeping up slowly over the past few weeks and I finally lost it and cut real bad, but I feel like something is out of my system now, I feel calmer now I have done it, I do of course have some regrets like that I have scarred myself again but I guess it’s much better I cut than swallowed a shitload of medication and tried to do myself in. I feel some sort of a relief from it, I hope now I have done it that I won’t feel the need to do it again. I will admit I do have a pack of blades back in the house and the doctor asked me if I would at least consider throwing them and all medications that I didn’t need in the bin. I told him I’d think about it.

I was supposed to be meeting with the woman from the charity I want to start doing voluntary work with tomorrow but my head isn’t in the right place for it just now so I phoned her (and she sounds so lovely) and just made up an excuse that I had a lot of uni stuff on this week and didn’t want to not attend when I’d only just started the course and could we postpone. Unfortunately her next available date when she is in my area isn’t until the 1st of October but that should hopefully give me enough time to straighten things out in my head again and be in a much better place to appear as a good person to work with their charity and the young people they work with. I can’t support others if I can’t support myself so I truly hope over the next couple of weeks things might start to feel better. That the suicidal thoughts will pass or at least become manageable and that I won’t self harm again before then.

I have nothing planned for tomorrow other than to do my weekly food shopping if I can face the supermarket. And I hope my textbooks I bought on amazon will start arriving so I can busy myself with doing some reading. On Friday I am seeing lovely GP just for a catch up and will have to tell her about the self harming, she will have the notes about it from a&e anyway. I hope I won’t be in a mess again asking for medication to get me through yet another weekend. I want to face this weekend head on, I just don’t know if I have the strength yet.

Well now that I have been writing for over an hour and almost 3000 words I think it’s time to log off, put my pj’s on and watch some TV, try and stay distracted and hope for a better night’s sleep tonight. Tomorrow can’t be any worse than today and that’s the only positive thought I am hanging onto for now.

21:35 – OK, it was never a friendship, but it still fucking hurts :(

9 Sep

OK, so I’ve had a couple of drinks, and I am feeling emotional. And yes maybe I’m being stupid. I’ve just sat and cut myself, I get no answer from words, and I’ll get no answer from blood. But it helped. This is all dedicated to someone who was not a friend, not a guy, just someone who had a huge influence over my life and has now gone. They no longer care, they have walked away, each time I see them now I am always going to know that they never cared enough to acknowledge my feelings, to reassure me I was wrong, did they cross a line by becoming so close to me, I would have confided my entire life in them. They spent endless hours being by my side, listening to my worries, helping me see things in a clearer light. I should never have got so close in the first place, I should know by now people always walk away from me in the end. Friends, guys, and this person too. They all go away in the end. Things were so good, I was so comforted by this persons presence for such a long time. But now, for whatever reason, things have changed, they have gone and I’m left like a broken piece of the puzzle, not fitting in anywhere anymore, not important enough to be repaired and slotted back in, just left to watch from afar as they give everything they have to others… anyone but me.

 

19:13 – Hurt

14 Aug

I met the guy again today after practically begging him to give me a second chance. It all started off well, we went a long drive to the middle of nowhere, got a sandwich for lunch, admired the view, all that kind of shit. I told him I wanted to kiss him, he didn’t stop me.

Then on the way back home we pulled over by the water and things started to heat up, quickly followed by a “this is wrong” coming out of his mouth. So I ask him why it’s so wrong and he tells me he is still in recovery, he shouldn’t be using me to make him happy, his contact person had already told him he wasn’t ready for going out and having a relationship and his undivided attention must go to his recovery.

I tell him I am in recovery as well but I see him as a good person to have in my life. I tell him I felt a connection, I felt like we clicked the first time we spoke online. I felt very sad, hurt, my brain laughing at me saying I will never be good enough to be anything more than just someone to mess about with. I felt rejected, he accused some of my texts of playing mind games with him. They were never meant that way, I just responded to some of his messages in anger/upset. I just feel so fucking rejected, how can something feel so right to one person and so wrong to another?

He asked could we be friends. At first I thought I could but as we continued to drive I very much started to think the opposite. Why would I want to be friends with someone who knew I liked him as more than friends, who came back to see me for a second time, who kissed me and spent a nice time with me, who gave me the impression he liked me as much as I liked him? I do want to be friends but I just can’t at the moment. It was so fucking awkward in the car when we were saying goodbye, I couldn’t even speak properly, everything I said was like hitting a brick wall, I was not going to win, I was not going to get my point across, I just had to sit there feeling totally rejected and deal with it.

I came home, I cried my eyes out, my head laughing at me again that I’m incapable of being liked, loved, wanted for anything other than sex with a guy. I feel stupid at myself for liking him so quickly and angry at him for knowing I liked him and yet still coming to see me.

The solution to tonight’s problems? A bottle of wine and my remaining diazepam. I’m not going to hurt myself in a cutting sort of way, I’m just going to blank it all out and no doubt have a little cry to myself whilst listening to Johnny Cash on repeat until I finally fall asleep.

Like he says, I focus on the pain, it’s the only thing that’s real….. and….everyone I know goes away in the end…

18:07 – Too good to be true? :-(

11 Aug

The date on Thursday was so lovely or so I thought. Then last night I got drunk and as we spoke on Skype he seemed different with me. He told me he felt like all day Thursday he was the one leaning in to kiss me and I was apparently pushing him away a lot. That is not how I remember it. Then he cuts the call off on Skype and doesn’t answer my texts. When he finally answers today he writes: “I’m not ignoring you, guess I just don’t know what to say, last night made me think that maybe we both ain’t ready for something like this :( I don’t know what to do.”

I reply with: “What did I do that was so wrong/unfixable?”

He replies: “You never did anything I’ve just got major doubts that it would work. I don’t know, I’m confused and the last thing I want is to hurt you x”

And then it all goes silent again.

I don’t understand what I did wrong. In my eyes we had a lovely day together and I was so looking forward to seeing him again on Tuesday. Now I feel rejected and hurt, confused and upset. I truly cannot see what has changed since our date but obviously something has in his eyes. I’m starting to feel used and it doesn’t feel nice, it makes me want to lash out at myself and hurt myself. How could something that felt so right now be so wrong? It just doesn’t make any sense to me.

He was the first guy in a very long time that I let get close to me both physically and emotionally. I know I haven’t known him that long but by the time he went home on Thursday it felt like I’d known him for years. Then everything goes weird/bad last night. It didn’t help that I was drunk. Then today he barely texts me and when he does it’s all messages about how he doesn’t think we are going to work. All it has done is reinforce the feelings I already had about myself prior to meeting him: fat, ugly, unlovable, disgusting body… how could I be so stupid to think someone could really see past all of that?

Before meeting, when we were just talking on Skype for those couple of days he was always sending me sweet little messages, inspirational videos, telling me to believe and not hope. Maybe I listened to his advice too much because I did start to believe. Now it seems like I’m the only one who does. I don’t know if this can be fixed, I don’t know if he wants it to be fixed. I get the feeling he doesn’t.

Maybe it was all too good to be true. That’s certainly how it feels at the moment, I don’t think he is going to come back through on Tuesday like we’d planned, I think he’s just going to slowly disappear and never come back. Not that that should surprise me, that’s just the way my life always goes, hence why I hadn’t even tried to date anyone for so long.

I feel very sad and rubbish and all I want to do is turn that emotional pain into physical pain.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,827 other followers