20:40 – Just had a realisation

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.

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.

18:41 – I miss things…people…etc

My favourite song of all time…

“I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that’s real,

What have I become,
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end”

…never have truer words been spoken.

Professionals, friends, lovers… all gone.

Somehow I drive them all away.

There is someone I really miss but they too are just a memory.

Someone once told me “friends like you make happiness happen”

I wish that were true.

16:56 – Mother’s Day

It’s Mother’s Day here in the UK. A day that fills me with too many emotions to write down. I could go on and on for the next few hours about how much I wish I had my little boy here, a happy healthy 5 year old, bringing me a little home made card that he’s made in school. But that is just a dream.

My head was good on Friday then shit again yesterday. That shit-ness seems to have spilled into today. Or maybe it’s just because of what day it is. I am going up to my parents house at 6pm for dinner, I’ve bought Mum a card, a book and a bouquet of flowers. I didn’t have much money this week to do anything big to mark the day.

I’ve also bought a card for my best friend and signed it from her two little ones. Even though she isn’t with her ex he should still make sure he gets her a card like she does for him when it’s Fathers Day! But alas he doesn’t, so I do. Maybe her Mum will have already got one but I’m sure she won’t mind having two!

I did plan on going out to hers before going to my parents but I’m having some real issues with it still being daylight and people still being outside and I don’t feel I can face the outside world. I spoke to my Mum on the phone last night and told her how bad things are at the moment, how horribly paranoid and anxious I feel all the time. She suggested that she comes down every day at lunch time and takes the dogs out for me and checks in with me to see how I’m doing. Whilst this feels helpful, I don’t want to have to resort to my Mum coming down every day to ensure her 30 year old daughter can get out of bed that day! I know that really this is her way of trying to keep an eye on me because she knows I’m not going to any of my appointments but I can’t help but feel if I let her help with one thing then it will be too easy to let her help with a second thing and then a third and so on and so on until the agoraphobia kicks back in fully reinforced that I am indeed shit and unable to do anything by myself.

I wanted to write more but I’m starting to feel really anxious so I think I’ll just leave it here for now.

14:27 – The finches died :’(

As if I wasn’t feeling sad enough from my last post, I am now sitting crying my eyes out. I just went into the room to get something and thought ‘Jack and Victor are really quiet’ so I went over to check on them and there they were lying side by side both still and cold. They have died :’(

They had plenty of food and water, it got changed everyday. Only a couple of days ago they were out having their fly round my room. I don’t understand why this has happened. Why? Why do I keep causing all these bad things to happen to me? I only had them for a matter of weeks, did I neglect them somehow? I know I didn’t, I know I was looking after them, so why, why did they both die?

Yesterday I was decorating my baby boy’s grave stone for Xmas, today I’ll be burying the little finches. Back to just me and the dogs now.

RIP Jack and Victor, I’ll miss your little chirps.

RIP Jack and Victor

12:56 – Dear Santa

 

 

Dear Santa,

All I’d like for Christmas is one more hold of my baby boy.

In February it will be five years since I had to say goodbye, almost five years with no cuddles and too much pain, almost five years with empty arms. I so desperately want to touch his skin again, count his little fingers and toes, give him a soft kiss on his forehead.

I want to blow raspberry’s on his tummy and hear his laugh. I never even heard his laugh or his cry. I want to make him laugh so much his little toes curl up and his legs kick about all over the place. In my dreams I can only imagine how ‘Mama’ might have sounded, in my dreams is the only place I can be with him again.

Today I am going to decorate my little man’s stone for Christmas, that’s all I can do for him now, keep his little stone all pretty and I will make it the prettiest stone ever.

Santa, I miss him so much, please make sure you visit him in Heaven and give him and all the angel babies lots and lots of toys for their angel’s playground. But, if I could have one more cuddle, it would make all my Christmas dreams come true.

:’(

Hospital Diary 10 of 10 (From Sunday 18th Sept)

I did manage to see my mum and best friend on Saturday 17th  after another consultant psychiatrist took me off the constant obs. But I forgot to write it up on my notebook other than this little post. It was a nice afternoon, we went for lunch and a look round the shops and I got to spend about 3 hours with them which was really really good for my state of mind: http://mycrazybipolarlife.wordpress.com/2011/09/17/1351-quick-but-happy-post/

6AM SUNDAY MORNING

My mood is very very low. I just used all of my bravery to ask the female nurse ‘M’ (the other one I hate and who mutually hates me back) anyways – I just went to ask her if I could have a chat because my head was feeling very low. She was sitting in the office reading a magazine and playing about on the computer and straight out said ‘no, I’m far too busy’ 

Now I’m a big emotional wreck. They want me to be honest and find a member of staff if my head is going crazy so that I don’t do anything ‘stupid’. I’ve just come back to bed and am crying my eyes out because she just dismissed my emotions for no reason at all. 

I felt so positive yesterday whilst I was out on pass for a few hours and then late last night a new girl was brought in. She was nice and we chatted and got along well. I woke up at the back of 4am to find her gone. Yep the £15 snoring spray hadn’t worked again and she had gone to an empty bed next door. That’s three girls who have left my room in little over a week and I’m trying so fucking hard but you can’t control what you do in your sleep can you? Especially when you are on so many meds as I am. This is why I want a side room so badly, even though it’s a bit lonely, it makes you feel like shit when every new person moves straight out my room and it would make much more sense for them to have an available four bed room and just put me in a single room. 

I’m sinking this morning. I’ve decided to go to church for some peace and despite my mixed up views on religion, I’ve been to this church before and found it very therapeutic. The nurses are all fussing over a couple of patients. I know they don’t like me and I’m a burden to them at the moment with my on/off constant obs. It’s cool though, I don’t like them much either. I’d like to request a discharge at tomorrow’s review but I don’t think it’s very likely to happen. Plus it would mean no EMDR treatment which I really believe sounds like something that could help me with all the trauma I carry around on my shoulders. EMDR sounds promising but you have to be able to be stable and grounded to focus on it completely. 

For now though I’m going back to cuddling into my little soft toy until my tears have ran out and it’s time to go to church.

 

(Shortly after this, during my Monday review I was allowed home so this is the last hospital diary, for now anyways!)

Hospital Diary 5 of 10 (From 1am on Wednesday 14th September)

It’s been an eventful night and a bloody expensive one as well. Earlier, I’d had enough, I cried down the phone to my Mum for ages and told her how suicidal I am feeling; how fucking miserable I am. Then the two girls who I share my room with both decided to go to the room next door because apparently I snore bad when I’m on my back and they’d had enough. Don’t blame them really, I’d have done the same. 

So as the day progressed I confessed about my self harming yesterday. Then things just went completely downhill.

I felt desperate and trapped and saw my hair straighteners were still next to the bed. I started by gently tying the flex around my neck, it was OK at first, just about bearable. But then I somehow managed to get the plug end tangled up and every time I made the slightest movement it got tighter and tighter. I could feel myself struggling for air and I wanted to just let myself go off peacefully. I was feeling really dizzy, I can’t remember if I bumped against the ‘call button’ or deliberately hit it but before I knew it there were staff everywhere. 

My pretty pink GHD’s are gone They had to cut the flex into so many little pieces that they were useless. Never mind, I’ll buy a cheap pair when I get out. The doctor has just been to see me and gave me two lorazepam’s but my head is still going a million miles an hour and won’t switch off. 

At the moment I’m in the bed closest to the window where the nurses sit. They went through all of my possessions and are now sitting there watching me right outside my room. I feel as though I only had to make one little mistake now and they’ll put me up in that prison/icu locked away from the world. 

I am not tired.

My brain is going way too fast.

I’m not allowed to go and sit in the TV room.

I’m being watched constantly.

I need my little one and he needs me. In my eyes that’s the end of discussion. I’m in a room, a big room, all alone, so lonely and empty. Rather like how I feel on the inside. I hate this room just like I hate all of this non stop pain. I hate that I made another ‘unsuccessful’ attempt.

Right now I hate everything and everyone. Mostly myself.

Protected: 23:25 – Missing you (so much)

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Protected: 17:18 – Can’t I be trusted with babies?

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