21:31 – Housing forms away and a trip to a&e that wasn’t for me for once

I had a fairly quiet weekend, I still haven’t been up to my parents house to give my dad his birthday present and it was his birthday on the 1st of May I feel really bad about it, I keep promising I’ll go up and then I don’t. In fact the only movement I did from Friday to Monday was taking my best friend’s three year old to A&E yesterday, it turns out he has a kidney infection bless him. He kept saying he was cold and his back and tummy hurt then the doctor found a trace of blood in his urine sample so he is on antibiotics now, hopefully he will be feeling better and back to his mischievous little self soon. I sat in the waiting room with her one year old on my knee and the nurse who was on duty has patched me up a number of times, she kept smiling at me as I was playing with the little one and commented that ‘he suited me’ and how I ‘looked happy’. I am happy around the kids, they are so innocent, so stressful, but so loving.

Today I realised I had double booked myself for both my social worker and addictions nurse at 3pm. I tried to see the addictions nurse a bit earlier but she was fully booked so I swapped it to Thursday and went to see my social worker so I could pick up the supporting letter for my housing transfer application. So I went and collected that, we went back through all the forms and then I took it to the housing department.

The woman there explained to me that for every 4 houses that become available one will go to the homeless department for the council to use, one will go to some other part of the homeless, one will go to a new applicant and one will go on the transfer list. So now they will review my forms and write back to me in the next couple of weeks with how many points I’ve been awarded. For now it’s a case of hoping I’m awarded enough points that I will be placed somewhere near the top of the list so I’m not waiting for years and years. So basically one in every four houses that become available go to the next person at the top of the transfer list. I don’t think houses become available that often and I have selected 1-2 bed house only so I think I will be waiting quite some time even if I am lucky enough to be awarded a decent amount of points.

I have my first session with the new CPN on my own tomorrow. I have still only met her the once before when my social worker sat in with us, then she was on holiday for a week or something so that’s us just meeting again tomorrow. I’m a bit apprehensive about whether or not I’ll get on with her, but the support worker is going to meet me at 12:40 outside my flat and we’ll walk along to the CMHT like the last time.

I also decided to sell my phone the other day. It’s a really good phone I’ve got, a Samsung Galaxy SII and they cost about £450 to buy on payg. But there is something wrong with the battery, it’s not holding a charge properly despite me deleting a shit load of applications. I figure it’s only going to get worse and when I was packing everything up for the workmen coming in a couple of months ago I remember throwing the box out – along with the warranty. So I decided to sell it through one of the recycle websites for £215 and I bought myself another phone for £100 leaving me £100 to pay back to my parents. I am due an upgrade in about six months anyway so I’m quite happy to downgrade for a while! This way I get rid of my phone whilst it’s still mostly working and can pay my parents back and get a new phone so it seemed the best solution.

Other than that not much else has been going on, I am still just existing in the living room of my flat, sleeping here, awake here, always in the same room. My bedroom remains full of boxes unpacked. I only ever go in my bedroom to dry my hair and get clothes – then I shut the door on it again.

I still need to go and see my GP as well. I’m going to try my best to get something sorted tomorrow. I need my Quetiapine increasing again and my GP doesn’t work on a Thursday so it’s got to be tomorrow or Friday, then we’re back to the weekend again. I don’t mind increasing the dose so long as it doesn’t take Lucifer away, I told the psychiatrist this last week, I like Lucifer and I don’t  want to lose him.

There was one other thing I was going to mention but I don’t know what to make of it yet so I’ll just sit quiet for now and if it’s still worth mentioning in a few days then I guess I’ll write about it!

16:57 – Good session with social worker

I went to see my social worker yesterday (Friday) and took along the housing transfer forms. We spent the hour getting them all filled out (well she asked me the questions and filled out the form for me) and she is going to write a supporting letter to go in with it. I’m not looking for a super urgent move or anything, I may have to wait a good while before something suitable comes up. There is also a thing called mutual exchange where two tenants basically swap tenancies and exchange homes, so something might come up there.

I have applied for a house only and for it to be either a one or two bedroom property. I think I would be so much happier with my own front door and little garden. I can’t tell you how much I dream about this little garden, how happy I think I would be if I could sit outside and let the dogs play with their toys. If I could sit outside in the sun and read a magazine. If I didn’t have to worry every time I closed my door to walk down the stairs and outside who I might have to pass in the stairwell and whether or not they are going to get inside my head and send me into super paranoia mode. I can’t be bothered with my next door neighbour’s random parties or phoning the police on him for fights in the stairwell. I’m sick of getting letters about things like dog dirt in the communal garden when I’m never responsible for it. I’m sick of living next door to someone who just gets drunk then kicks his door in rather than using a key.

In one sense I love my flat. I have been in it six years this month and it’s such a good location in terms of living right in the little town and having all the shops that I need right on my doorstep. On the other hand it gets noisy when pubs kick out and I have about an hour where I just sit feeling panicked with all the shouting outside, where I have to make sure all three locks on my door are locked, where I can end up almost praying for everyone just to fuck off away from outside my flat and leave me in peace.

So I have applied for a house about a mile from here next to where my parents are. It will be better for them to be just around the corner and I think I would be much more likely to follow my crisis plan and let Mum come and stay over if I knew she was just around the corner. It wouldn’t make me feel like I was being such a burden on her. I have already written to the council and asked them if they would cover the housing benefit for an extra bedroom which they have agreed to do. I don’t care if it’s a one bedroom or two bedroom place I get offered, just to have my own little house with it’s own little garden is all I want.

So I’m going to see my social worker on Tuesday and get the forms back with her supporting letter and then go hand it in to the council and then sit back and wait. In the meantime I need to either find the motivation to paint this place myself or ask someone to come and help me. It could do with a lick of paint in each room to cover up all the plaster marks on the walls where they did the electrical rewiring. I will wait and see what the response is to my housing application before I decide whether or not to spend the money to re-floor this flat.

It’s time for a change of scenery, for a new little home, the dogs would love it and I would love it so fingers crossed there is someone out there also looking to swap or that I will be placed onto the transfer list and won’t have to wait years to get an offer! I will be sad to leave this flat when the time comes but my future is what matters and maybe getting away from all the bad memories of this flat and a complete new start is just what I need.

20:45 – Babysitting all weekend

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

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

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

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

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

12:09 – Meeting the new cpn

I met my new CPN on Wednesday. My social worker was there as promised which was nice. I was very anxious throughout the meeting even though the woman herself seemed nice enough; however I got the impression that any time my social worker tried to tell her about my mental health history and how, over the past couple of years all they have been able to do with me is try and keep me alive, that she didn’t seem particularly interested. She didn’t seem very interested in hearing about the voices or me using my crisis plan appropriately and taking myself to a&e on a few occasions. Instead all she seemed to want to talk about was ‘what she can do to help me’ in the next few months.

Yes! Guess what? She is only temporary as well! Another person who will be there one minute and gone before I know it! Apparently they are advertising for a full time permanent CPN, so the next one should be able to stick around for longer. Hmm.

So she started asking me stuff about my hobbies and about my education. I told her I’d done well at school and had started a couple of degree’s at different universities but always dropped out at the end of first year. I told her I don’t really have any hobbies, but mentioned I have my little dogs. My head (and the building) was pretty noisy and I was having quite a hard time following the conversation and not letting the voices overpower her. I heard phrases like “having goals and aspirations”, “furthering your education”, “what would you like to do MCBL? There must be something?”

I guess I wasn’t really expecting to go into this first meeting and for her to be quite so full on with the whole ‘getting motivated’ thing. I again was having a hard time both talking to Lucifer and the CPN (who we will call T just to give her a name), I think on a couple of occasions I replied out loud to Lucifer when I meant to reply to her or vice versa. Ugh. Brain blur.

Anyway…

She asks what I would like to achieve/work towards. I said I’d like to not be agoraphobic any longer. She states “the psychiatrist says you don’t have agoraphobia MCBL”… (you know I just love when these changes occur and I’m always the last to know)… I kinda looked at her strangely and told her that yes I could now manage the bus journey between home and the looney bin and that yes I had done a couple of graded exposure journeys with my social worker – however – I have not been to a city/busy place/on a motorway/a shopping centre/family events – for at least five years. I have made a mental note to ask my psychiatrist if and why he no longer considers me to have agoraphobia when I see him next Wednesday.

I said to my social worker that I would still really like to move out of my flat. I do love the location of my flat and it is my little home, has been for six years now, but I desperately want to have a little one or two bedroom house with a little garden. I know beggars can’t be choosers and I should be grateful that I have a permanent roof over my head but living in this flat really feels like it worsens my mental health at times.

If I had one of the little one bedroom houses they have for the elderly and disabled people then I believe:

• My paranoia would be less intense because I wouldn’t be in a block of 12 flats with people coming and going all day long that I hear outside my door and become suspicious of,
• I would have the freedom to sit outside on nice days in my own safe space and having a garden and doing a little gardening is shown to help depressive symptoms,
• On bad days the dogs would have a garden to play in if I was too unwell to walk them – and not have to rely on my Mum coming to get them,
• I think I would feel a lot safer with elderly neighbours, they don’t pose the same threat to me as younger people, and their little houses are in quieter areas, with no late night parties like where I stay now,
• If I had an extra bedroom then someone would be able to have a proper bed to sleep in when I need someone to stay over,
• From a safety point of view I wouldn’t already be two floors up if I was in a suicidal state at home,
• I think my fear of people wanting to do me harm would be less in a quiet little house as opposed to this block of 12 flats,
• I am no longer happy here
• This little bit of research explains what I feel:  Housing, Neighbourhoods and Mental Health:-
• Most of the BRE report focused on the effects of housing on physical health. However many of the studies quoted previously looked at both physical and mental health, and there is a continuing interest in the effects of housing on the latter, perhaps in part reflecting the difficulties of “proving” links with physical symptoms and because of the interaction between the two. Intuitively poor housing condition will have an effect on mental well being; the home provides more than shelter and the “meaning of home”, for example as a haven of security, is an accepted psychological and social construct.

T, (new CPN woman), says she does not think that me moving to a little house would be beneficial. She says it will make me take my dogs out less because I will have a garden to let them play in instead. This woman has known me five minutes, I’ve had my dogs coming on 5 and 6 years, I’ve been a ‘mental’ all that time and they have never ever been neglected or not walked. Even when I’ve felt the shittest of the shit, when I’ve had to swap my days and nights around so I felt comfortable in going out, when I’ve had to call on my mum to take them for a night… through all of those times my two little monkeys have always been taken good care of and exercised. So T wound me up a bit.

Deep breath. Ahh.

Her whole approach left me walking out of there feeling like she had spent all her time talking about what she wants me to do and not actually listening to a word of how I was thinking or feeling or what was going on in my life right now. She doesn’t seem to get that sometimes it is just to hard to get out of bed, to shower once a week, to live with voices tormenting then praising you, to be locked in a little self destructing world where everything drives you crazy. I left feeling like she was more interested in the grades I’d got at school (13 years ago) than the here and now. Will the next session be any different? Who knows… It’s not for a fortnight yet.

Next week I have appointments Wednesday with the psychiatrist, Thursday with the addictions nurse for more relapse prevention work, Friday with my social worker. I can’t decide whether to wait until next Friday and speak over the housing stuff again or whether to contact the housing association myself and just tell them the reasons why I’d like to be considered for a new place.

Annoyingly my mate came down the other night (after I’d seen T and was moaning about her) and he made me get a pen and paper, go onto Google, search for short college courses at my local college (I ended up just phoning them and asking for a prospectus and a list of free short courses) then I searched for voluntary work in my area and sent off an email to a charity who do short term pet fostering as I think I’d quite enjoy that. I haven’t had a reply from them yet. So yes, that was kinda annoying that he ended up making me do the things that T was banging on about but afterwards we had a little drink and were like ‘ah, right that’s my homework done til I see her again in 2 weeks, I’ve got shit written down so I can show her I did listen’ so she had better be bloody pleased with me!

In other news – I have found the perfect design for my next tattoo which is going to make Lucifer very happy with me indeed. This might just be the time he starts to grant me the powers and abilities he promised (if I do a good job and impress him!) – Watch this space!

Wow that was a long post. I started writing this almost an hour ago. It’s now 12:53. Time to get dressed and have something to eat.

 

 

18:44 – It’s over (and I survived it!)

I went to the CPA meeting. At the meeting there was:

• Me
• My Mum
• CPN guy from last week
• Addictions nurse
• Social Worker
• A&E Senior Charge Nurse (bitchy one from Tuesday)
• Psychiatrist via video link

Whilst people were arriving I heard my social worker ask my Mum how she was doing. I mentioned a while back that my Mum was being made redundant from the company she has worked for, for about 16 years. Then the company decided she could work from home on a part time basis until April and it would be reviewed again. This morning she found out that her redundancy was definitely going ahead and that’s it all final now. She finishes up in a couple of weeks. I just sat there and stared at the floor, I had no idea and I suddenly felt incredibly guilty that she had just lost her job that morning and was still there, by my side, at this bloody meeting about me being mental. That I still needed my Mum there for me when she is going through her own shit but is still more concerned about me. In the car on the way home she told me she wasn’t going to tell me until after the meeting because ‘she should be worrying about me and I shouldn’t worry about her’. Fucking hell, I’m such a bloody burden. I don’t deserve her worrying about me! Argh!

So for the first fifteen or twenty minutes of the meeting I barely said a word. I couldn’t really concentrate on what was being said because my head kept thinking about my poor Mum and how rubbish she must be feeling knowing she has to say good bye to all her colleagues of so many years. And my Mum was damn good at her job. I felt angry and sad for her. The voices were making everything sound a bit mumbled as well. My leg kept shaking and I felt sick with anxiety.

The CPN guy then started to go through the minutes from the last meeting then I pushed my bit of paper in front of him where I’d written that I felt totally unsupported at the moment. This is because I have not met my new CPN yet and had been told to use the duty system in a crisis as my social worker was no longer part of my care team. So I found my voice and said that I didn’t want my social worker out my care team because she is the only person (other than the psychiatrist) who has been there consistently. I told them I find all these staff changes stressful and uncomfortable, like I just start getting to know someone and then they leave for one reason or another. I also said I find the duty system hard because I find it hard having to explain why I feel the way I do over and over again to different people. So it was agreed that my social worker would remain part of my care team with appointments on a monthly basis (which is what I asked for) so I’m glad that for now I’m going to be able to keep the only therapeutic relationship I’ve got. Who knows, maybe once I get to know my new CPN and if I work well with her then maybe I will be OK just with CPN support.

We talked a little about how much I’ve been struggling lately, I apologised for not attending my appointments in the past month and explained it was mostly due to anxiety. So the CPN guy said he would speak to the support worker boss guy and ask if I could get a little bit of help with getting to appointments when they are at the CMHT. That brought up the subject of paying to see a support worker now, which the psychiatrist commented was “ridiculous” interestingly. So I will wait and see if they are going to let me get support from a support worker until my new CPN starts. My social worker also said she would come in for my first meeting with my new CPN so that should make it slightly less anxiety fuelled.

Hmm what else did they talk about?… The addictions nurse said that although she hadn’t seen me for a while she had no concerns of me using heroin again and was sure it really was just a two week mistake so that was good. The A&E nurse took a copy of my crisis plan and we mentioned the self harming over the past couple of weeks. I told my Mum about it in the car on the way there so she wasn’t shocked. The A&E nurse didn’t say much, just that she thought it would be helpful for them to have a copy of my crisis plan and she said thank you to me as she was leaving for ‘being so honest’ about the stuff in my head. She still remains the bitchy nurse though compared to the rest of the A&E staff!

I told them about the voices and about Satan controlling me. I asked for an increase in Quetiapine which the psychiatrist agreed to so I can put my dose up  by 50mg a fortnight and hopefully the voices will start to subside again in a while. I only hope I can last that time without doing something crazy if they start to command me!

So the meeting came to an end. We went through the keypoints which were something like:

• Medication to be increased
• Monthly appointments with social worker
• Start seeing new CPN
• Stick to crisis plan
• Resume sessions with addictions nurse to do relapse prevention work
• Appointment with addictions nurse on Tuesday 2pm
• Sometimes I might need help to get to appointments
• Possible support worker until new CPN starts
• See psychiatrist in May
• Another CPA meeting on July 5th at 4pm

I can’t believe I just remembered all of that. I must have been listening to more than I thought! Which is really strange because when I was in there it was a bit of an emotional rollercoaster, some parts seemed blurred, some parts I’d suddenly notice Mum’s hand on mine and her whispering to see if I was OK. With the anxiety there were a couple of times I did that thing where you are like holding your breath without realising it then suddenly you exhale and it seems really loud, the CPN guy picked up on that and checked I was OK.

I guess all in all I’m glad I went. It was horribly anxious and yet at the same time it was productive. I just hope all the things we talked about actually happen and don’t just end up as words on a couple of sheets of paper somewhere. Things are still pretty fucking rocky and I’d really like to be able to try this approach out before things hit the next crisis point, I’d like to avoid there being another crisis point, but Satan is the one in control and all I can do is walk quietly alongside and try to steer things in the right direction.

14:43 – So freaking scared

I have my CPA meeting in just over an hour. My Mum is picking me up in an hour. I am still not dressed and am so fucking scared about going. The anxiety is ridiculously bad at the moment, my stomach is churning, I feel sick, my palms are sweating, I’m roasting hot and my heart seems to be beating super fast. I have taken my morning Citalopram and Quetiapine, I have also taken 20mg Diazepam but so far nothing is bringing the panic down. I really really do not want to go to it.

As far as I know the only people going are myself, the social worker, the community addictions nurse, the psychiatrist and my Mum. I think someone from a&e has also been invited but have no idea if anyone will come. I hate speaking about the voices in front of so many people, my Mum still doesn’t even know about getting my legs stitched up or me writing stuff about Satan all over me with a knife. What the fuck is she/they going to think when she hears it all?

I’m completely bricking myself here, all the excuses as to why I can’t go are zooming around my head, I want to just let them all go do it without me but I know I need to be there. I know there’s no getting out of it, no matter how bad the anxiety feels I have to face this.

I spoke to the addictions nurse on the phone yesterday afternoon just to touch base with her before this meeting and to apologise for not attending any appointments in the past month. I told her my head has been crazy; she used to be a psych nurse before she starting working for the addictions team. She encouraged me to turn up today and suggested I wrote down the key things I wanted to get sorted out but my head is totally blank.

So far all the sheet of paper says is ‘I can’t handle appointments’

I really don’t know if I’m going to make it there today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

19:54 – Fucking nurses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The writer says:

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

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

20:58 – Time for some honesty

It’s been a while since I last posted, so this is probably going to be a super long one. I have really been trying hard to keep myself distracted and that’s also meant a bit of a break from the internet. My moods have been a bit unpredictable lately and somewhere deep down I knew I’d go into another suicide research phase if I allowed myself to open the laptop and switch it on. So I figured just keep myself busy in the day times and then come home and watch TV then sleep. My sleep is pretty poor at the moment but that could be due to a number of things.

There has been quite a lot happening. I was really ill for a week or so with bronchitis but I’m feeling better now. I was reading back on my blog posts and although I hinted at the drugs I was taking I think now is the time to just write truthfully. Christmas was hard, I played it down but it fucked my head. The next few days I was like a zombie, all I could think about was suicide. It got to New Year and I made a choice that I deeply regret – I asked someone about heroin – why she took it… her answer… it makes everything OK again. And that’s what I needed – everything to be OK again, my head to stop being fucked up and mental, the voices to stop screaming, my thoughts to slow the fuck down. So I made an extremely stupid decision – I tried smoking heroin. What did it feel like? I felt medicated and then I vomited for about the next three hours. That was it. No high, no low, no buzz, just feeling completely ill.

So why the fuck did I go and buy it again the next day?? I have no idea. And what makes it all the worse is that I went to the drug and alcohol place and got needles. I felt more comfortable watching it going into my bad blood. There was something about the whole process of opening the wrap, sprinkling it into the little sterile metal holder, adding in the citric acid, cooking it up, putting in the filter, sucking it up into the needle, finding a vein then slowly feeling it run through my body. The first few days it would make me sick but it wasn’t an unpleasant sickness, it actually felt good getting bad stuff inside of me out. I would lie on the sofa and nod off, still aware of everything around me but enjoying the feeling of medicated sleepiness and that girl – she was right – nothing mattered, nothing could hurt me, nothing was there apart from pleasant nods and bursts of daydreams.

I continued using every day until I went into hospital. One wrap costs £10, by the time I had been using for two weeks I was up to 4-5 wraps a day. That’s how addictive it is. You need more and more every day to get that same zoned out medicated feeling. So when I went to my GP completely suicidal I broke down and told her what I’d been using. I told the psychiatrist and I just needed a break away from it all. I was becoming dependent, if not physically then psychologically. So I had my week away from it all, they increased my dose of Diazepam and gave me Lorazepam as well. They gave me anti-sickness tablets and tablets for the stomach cramps. The first few days I felt like shit and I was craving so badly but by the time I came home a week later I was feeling a different sort of shit – that of the haloperidol. So I stopped taking the haloperidol two days after I came out of hospital and haven’t taken it since.

I have been to see a drugs counsellor and she was really nice. She is very well trained in lots of areas of counselling and listened to my whole story. I told her about how trapped I still feel, stuck somewhere in the bereavement process, still stuck in that day five years ago. She was so nice and told me she really believes she can help me understand grief better and hopefully start to move forwards with my life. She knows the drug use was due to both my mentalness and my inner pain. For the first time in a long time I actually feel more positive about the future, like maybe there is a chance I can move forwards without feeling guilty for living my life.

Speaking of the little one it’s his 5th anniversary on Saturday. It’s going to be a hard and sad day as it is every year and seeing the ex is never easy either. I have ordered a beautiful basket of flowers from the florist which cost a bomb but he is worth it. I’m worried Saturday is going to be a very triggering day for me. I will admit I have used heroin once since coming out of hospital but all it did was make me sick as a dog like the first time I tried it and I haven’t touched it again but psychologically I still crave that medicated feeling where nothing can hurt me. And what can hurt me? Life. Everything about it hurts especially with the anniversary just two days away. But I am determined I will not tarnish his memory by putting that shit into my body on his special day. No matter how much pain I am in, I won’t ever touch that stuff again. I don’t want to be some sort of junkie I want it to just be what it was – a two week mistake, a very stupid one, but one which has actually had a positive outcome as now I am going to get the counselling which I so badly need.

I am getting on with my CPN a bit better now, I still don’t especially like her but have decided I need to work with her whether I like it or not. We met on Monday and updated my crisis plan. Today I had a CPA meeting which consisted of myself, my CPN, psychologist and social worker with the psychiatrist via video link which was quite weird but better than being in the same room as him! We really just talked about where I was at and what work I had been doing with CPN woman. I also told them about the counselling I’d been offered through the drug centre and how I was going to start that because I believe I need it regardless of what the psychiatrist said while I was in hospital about not needing it right now. I explained I knew my safety had been their priority but that I felt the counselling would help me a lot and if it became too painful or started to affect my moods then I would be honest and say it was too much for me right now. Also that’s my psychologist off on maternity leave for the next year now and I need some emotional support while she is gone. It was hard seeing her big bump today, it was hard that the video conferencing room in the hospital happened to be right next to the maternity department. I had been asked to take my Mum or Dad along to the meeting but as they both had work commitments I took my best friend instead. The psychiatrist asked me if I was still using drugs and I said no. He then said that CPN woman had told him I had used once since coming out. Of course best friend didn’t know this and I had to completely deny it. He asked if I was smoking cannabis and I admitted that yes I do still have a smoke at night because it feels like the only thing that is keeping me calm. He gave me the speech on how one smoke could destabilize me and make my mental health worse which I don’t dispute, but right now it truly is the only thing that chills my crazy head out.

I told him I want to start Quetiapine (Seroquel) again. I know I reached the maximum dose of it before and was still experiencing psychosis but it was the only anti-psychotic which kept me stable for a decent period of time and didn’t come with a shit load of side effects. We have also decided to stop my Lamotrigine (Lamictal) so I’m stepping that down by 25mg a week, it doesn’t seem to have helped stabilise my mood and I’ve been on it almost two years and I think it’s making my psoriasis worse as well. It’s known to cause a lot of skin problems, rashes and stuff in some people. It’s a shame because it was another medication which didn’t give me nasty side effects but hopefully there will be another mood stabiliser I can try which won’t be too harsh.

So that’s where I’m at. Time for some honesty and hoping people won’t judge me for my stupid actions. Feeling a bit fragile about my little angel’s anniversary on Saturday and there not being anywhere open if I need support. Knowing I need to be strong and not sure if I’m going to manage. My best friend wants me to go and spend the night at hers so I’m not alone, she said in the meeting today how it would be good for me as her kids would be a distraction, sometimes she forgets that watching her two babies is really hard for me.

It’s going to be a difficult weekend I just hope I can do my angel proud.

17:26 – Back home, care team meeting today and help needed!!

Well I’m back home. I actually came home on Monday afternoon but have only just remembered I didn’t write a post! To cut a long story short I came home on a long weekend pass from Thursday evening until Sunday afternoon. I was feeling really positive and happy being back with my friends and in my own space again.

On Sunday night I felt my mood hit a low partly due to being back in the bin and away from my family and friends again;  but mostly it was because I was terrified of going for the CT scan of my head that they had arranged. Whilst my agoraphobia is so much better than it was this time last year I still feel a huge amount of panic when going anywhere new or being in a place I can’t escape from. So I tossed and turned all night then went into my review on Monday morning.

He asked how the pass had gone and I told him it had gone really well but that I was terrified of going for the scan. There were six members of staff on that morning when usually there are only four so I asked if we could make it a little less distressing for me and let me go with a member of staff in a car rather than the patient transport buses they use for all patients with appointments at the main hospital that day. So my appointment was at 2pm but I was being collected at noon because someone had an appointment at 1pm or something. The main hospital is around 35 miles away (along a long and bendy road) from the psych hospital and they said it took just under an hour to get there.

Now at this point I’m sitting thinking ‘oh my God, what if someone has an appointment for say, 4pm? I’ll need to stay there all day and won’t be able to escape’ so I start to become extremely anxious. I tell the psych how bad I am feeling, how scared and anxious I am, I correct myself and tell him I’m terrified. I start to cry because the anxiety is making me feel hot and my heart palpitating. I ask him please could a member of staff take me so I know I can just go there and then come straight back.

He says No.

By now I’m properly crying and again asking – begging – for him to compromise with me in some way. If I couldn’t have a member of staff take me then could he at least give me a medication to calm me down for the journey so I could try and manage it that way.

He says No.

I then start asking him why? Why when people stood in front of me in the medication queue was every single person offered some kind of sedative – diazepam, lorazepam, zopiclone – they were the most common three words you would hear. I wasn’t on any kind of sleeper other than my normal daily prescribed dose of diazepam, of which, I’m in some sort of reduction program for. So as I have taken Diazepam/Valium for so long it doesn’t affect me in the slightest at my 18mg a day dose. The only times it affects me is when I don’t take it or miss a dose. I got the full shakes, severe anxiety, was panicking, and paranoid about everything, from just a 2mg drop from 20mg. Was he trying to punish me for something? Of course he says no he isn’t.

So I’m getting really really wound up by this point. I say to him that there is a least distressing way of getting me there or a most distressing way – why was he picking the most distressing one? He says as I managed fine on the bus getting home on Thursday night and as I managed the car journey back on the Sunday that I could manage this without medication and that going on the patient transport bus was the way I was going up there. I start to really cry and can feel the anger building up inside me. I almost begin to shout as I get louder, “have you not listened to a single thing I’ve said to you over the past God knows how many years?! Have you not heard me talk about the Agoraphobia that YOU diagnosed six YEARS ago??” 

He replies. “I think it’s time for you to face your fear. If you think you can’t manage it then we’ll cancel the scan and you can do it another time”. This makes me even more angry. I shout through my tears that I want discharged from that horrible place as soon as possible. He kinda looked almost like he shrugged his shoulders in a not bothered kinda way and repeated “I’ll just cancel the scan then shall I?” followed by “and I’ll arrange your discharge medication?”

What the fuck? If he thought I was well enough to be discharged on the Thursday then why didn’t he say so? Why make my parents drive all the way back up there on the Sunday to say I could be discharged the next day? Why tell me I had to be back on Sunday due to the scan? Everything was just swimming around confused in my head. I stood up angrily and said “write up my discharge medication asap”. Then, like a 13 year old, I slam the door behind me as hard as I could.

I got the bus home an hour later.

So onto today, I had a care team meeting this morning which was me, my psychologist (yes the pregnant one that I found it almost impossible to look at), my new CPN (who met me once and the next day told the pharmacy to only prescribe me daily medication), my social worker and my psychiatrist. The fucking idiot man that he is. Yes I’m still pissed off at him.

We just spoke about where we are going to go with things next. They basically described what work they want to do with me individually and how it can all link together. We are now going to have a Care Plan Approach and I’m meeting with the new CPN who I’ll call J on Friday morning to see what changes need to be made to my Crisis Plan. Then everyone in the care team will have a copy of it I think.

After the meeting this morning I spent a few hours with my friend and the little one, we took a wander round the shops and I have bought myself a present that I collect tomorrow. Two baby fire-tailed finches. They look just like this but I’ll take an actual photo once I get them home and introduce you all. I have one problem though – I have no names for them! They are both males so suggestions below pleaseeeeeee – I need you guys to help me!!