Tag Archives: angels anniversary

00:01 – Hoping and praying I’m doing the right thing

25 Nov

So… since I last posted I have made the rather huge decision to accept the offer of the housing transfer. I went with my Mum to view it for a second time on Friday afternoon and then had an hour to give them a final decision as they are closed over the weekend and if I didn’t want to take it then it would be offered to someone else on Monday. I felt massively under pressure and I still don’t know if I am doing the right thing but after an appointment with CPN#2 on Friday morning and talking things through with her I decided I do need to get out of this flat I’m in. There are memories everywhere I look and a huge amount of them are bad ones. But, as lovely support worker said to me on Thursday “the memories that you need to keep you will keep in your heart and no matter where you are living they will always stay with you” and I hope so much she is right.

The appointment with CPN#2 on Friday was one I’d actually go so far as to say it was ‘semi’ productive. Yes she asked what items I wanted to put on “the agenda” for the session which as you all know drives me mad… but for once I actually had things I wanted to talk about. I knew I’d have lots to say about the housing transfer so decided to make it our second thing on the agenda and first of all discuss the recent letter from the psychologist. I told CPN#2 that I’d felt a mix of emotions when I received the letter, initially I felt hopeful as I read the words that I was now at the top of the waiting list and the psychologist was now in a position to offer me an appointment… but then as I carried on reading and saw she was only able to offer me 4 sessions due to going on maternity leave in March I felt pretty gutted. I chose my words carefully and said to CPN#2 “I’m assuming you only recently found out yourself that the psychologist is pregnant again as I’m sure you wouldn’t have left me hanging on waiting for my sessions to resume with her knowing she was pregnant and knowing that’s why I had to stop working with her last time”… I looked out the window as I said it and CPN#2 didn’t say yes or no… she just left me to carry on talking.

I’m now quite sure CPN#2 probably has known for at least a month if not a couple of months and that was possibly my way of making a little dig at her to let her know that I knew she knew. But I kept myself composed and said that whilst I wished the psychologist all the best with her pregnancy, I really felt like I would find it extremely difficult to spend January and February watching her huge bump whilst also spending January and the start of February trying to keep myself mentally strong enough to get through my little one’s 7th anniversary. CPN#2 said that she understood and was sure the psychologist would understand as well. I told her I felt a little bit deflated after being on the waiting list since May and to finally be offered an appointment then not be able to take it. Again, I’m not really sure if we would have achieved much in four sessions anyway, but now it looks like I’m going to be waiting considerably longer. CPN#2 told me that they had been advertising the post for a replacement psychologist for a while (this is why I’m sure she clearly has known for a while that the psychologist was pregnant again yet kept telling me just to hang on as I was getting closer to the top of the list) but unfortunately they’ve had very little interest in the post so far. She went on to say that it was not looking very likely that they will have a new psychologist in post by March and I’d most likely be in for a long wait. So just as I felt like she couldn’t make me feel much more deflated she actually surprised me and said that she thought I really did need psychological input and was going to ask the psychologist if it would be possible for me to be referred to a different psychology team. Basically it is the team located at the psych hospital about 90 minutes from where I live and they offer an outpatient service so CPN#2 is going to speak with the psychologist and see if they could refer me there instead. I don’t know that I’d be overly keen in being back in the grounds of the psych hospital or having to travel 90 mins there and back each week/fortnight but I guess if they could start seeing me in the next couple of months it would be better than waiting for God only knows how long to see a psychologist here. So that was the end of that conversation and I guess I can only hope for good news the next time I see CPN#2 that they are going to make the referral.

After that conversation was over with we started talking about all of the pros and cons of moving house. I talked about everything that scares me about leaving my flat behind and moving onto somewhere new but CPN#2 kept pulling me back to the positives of it all. She sat for about ten minutes painting this lovely scene of me waking up on Christmas morning with my little doggies bouncing around on my bed playing with their new toys… me getting out of my bed and being able to open my back door whilst still in my pyjamas and let them out to the garden… relaxing in a nice hot bath and getting ready to see all my family… peace and quiet around me, no noisy neighbours… getting the doggies and my presents and just having a five minute walk round to my parents house… talking almost like the way they do on hypnotherapy cd’s and I wanted so so much to feel this happy relaxing scene she was painting but in my head all I could see was me being in my flat. She then started to talk about how I needed to try and separate my anxiety associated with my “illness” and normal anxiety. That moving house was stressful for everyone who does it and it was normal for me to be having all these doubts but that she really thinks I need to leave this flat now and start afresh.

So I left the appointment with CPN#2 and came home and got the dogs and went for a long walk with them for an hour and tried to get my head straight. Then Mum came and picked me up and we went for the second viewing of the house. There is a lot of work that needs doing in it. The whole place needs completely repainted, the walls are going to need sanding down as someone has obviously put some plaster on to cover up little cracks but not bothered to smooth it out so there are big bumpy bits all over the walls. The ceilings and skirting boards need painting too. The flooring isn’t in a very good condition but I think I’m going to take my flooring from this flat and have it re-laid in the house as the rooms are slightly smaller than in here so it should fit. So after twenty minutes or so of viewing it I said yes I would accept it and we then went to the housing office for me to sign the acceptance forms. I have an appointment at 3pm tomorrow to collect the keys and sign the tenancy agreement. Then we had to go to the housing association from whom I currently rent my flat and was told I have to give them a 28 day notice period that I am ending my tenancy here which is a pain as we then had to go to the housing benefit office who have said that they will only pay the rent on one property at a time so I’m going to have to try and move as quickly as possible… ideally within a week as I will have to pay the rent on the new property out of my own pocket until I hand the keys back for this flat. But Mum said not to worry about that and that she and my Dad would pay a week or two’s rent for me.

So tomorrow it’s all going to start feeling real. Once I have the keys Mum and I are going to spend a few hours in the new house cleaning it all. I also need to phone a couple of removal companies tomorrow and get quotes from them to see how much it is going to cost to move all my heavy stuff like furniture and electrical appliances. Then on Tuesday I will need to contact my gas and electricity companies and arrange to have pre-payment meters installed in the new house. I also need to go to the post office and get a form to arrange to have all my mail redirected for a month or two to give me the chance to contact everyone to notify them of my change of address. I also need to phone and arrange to have my phone line and broadband moved. Then I need to start packing all the things that can go into boxes that I can move with the help of the parents. I feel like I have sooo much to do and to be honest I’m finding it all quite overwhelming and scary… I’m so thankful I do have my parents to help me with all of this because I think I would have fallen to pieces by now if I had to try and do it all by myself.

Plus I have less than two weeks to write and submit my two final essays for this term which I had intended to try and make a start on this weekend but I went to an engagement party last night and had a little bit too much to drink and have been suffering for it all day today. My own fault but never mind… I’m sure I’ll get them done. Sometimes I feel like I work better when I’m under pressure with a deadline fast approaching as I have no choice but to just study and write and study and write until it’s done. Maybe not my best work but so long as I scrape a pass that is all I really care about. I may just get my phone line moved and study from my parents house whilst they’re at work using their internet… at least I don’t have any distractions there and should be able to get my head down and get some work done.

So the next couple of weeks are going to be crazy, hectic and super busy but hopefully in a fortnight’s time I will be fully moved, essays done and on my Christmas break from the uni course and able to relax and get the rest of my Christmas shopping done. I’m hoping and praying that I am doing the right thing and won’t regret leaving this flat as once I leave I can never get it back… that’s it gone for good to become someone else’s home. And that really does throw up a whole mix of emotions for me. Whilst I need that fresh start I will also be very sad and probably quite emotional when the day comes that I’m sleeping here for the very last night. I have a feeling I am going to just sit here completely consumed with so many memories of the past 7 and a half years jumping into my head. But I am trying to trust my instincts and the words of advice other people are giving me and I do need a blank canvas to start creating new memories in… a new place to build into my home… right now it might just be ‘a house’ but I can make it ‘a home’ eventually I’m sure.

Big, scary adult decisions… argh!

Well I think 2000 words of rambling is quiet enough! I can’t quite believe that this time tomorrow I will be sitting here with the keys to my new house. It’s all happened so fast I just hope I can keep up and it doesn’t start going too fast that I get myself all into a big mess.

Deep breaths… keep calm… think of the positives… and when it all starts feeling overwhelming take a couple of Diazepam, try to be mindful and try to calm down… I guess that’s all I can do :/

Scared just doesn’t cut it. But I keep telling myself I’m only getting the keys tomorrow, I’m not moving tomorrow, I won’t be moving for at least a week yet, the more time I spend round at the new house getting it looking nicer the more familiar it will become and the more comfortable I will be when the official moving day comes around. I bet this last week of living here is going to fly by.

Another chapter of my life closing and another empty one just beginning…

21:22 – Scared to live. Scared to die.

3 Feb

I don’t know where my head’s at. I have been trying to distract myself from the head crazies and unfortunately my poorly dog who I had to rush to the vet on Friday still doesn’t seem to be much better. He isn’t throwing up so much, but then he hasn’t eaten more than a few bites in the past week and for the last 24 hours has completely refused all food and drink so I’ve had to resort to syringe feeding him water every 2-3 hours. That meant setting my alarm every few hours during the night but to be honest I couldn’t really sleep anyway.

It seems like when I’m doing something like syringe feeding, going out walks, attempting to start my new university modules – we’re just about to go onto week 2 and I’ve only just started looking at week 1 so I’m already behind. But yeah, when I’m doing something then the head crazies are bearable but the second I stop it feels like this huge big black cloud just sinks over me and all I can think is ‘what’s the point?’. I sit here trying to study but the words just won’t sink in and I think why the fuck am I doing this? And then the head noise starts up and I start being pulled into conversations or hear my name being talked about and then the only thing I can do is give the head noise my full attention because I want to know what the fuck is being said about me!

I have been thinking a lot about death recently (well, I’m always thinking about it but recently it’s been a lot more prominent) and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m scared to live but also scared to die. But this only fuels the head crazies because it gives cause for more debating back and forth like a bloody ping pong ball…

I want to live

I want to die

I can’t go on living

I can’t end my life

Back and forth, back and forth, the thoughts go quieter then louder, faster then slower and on and on it goes. Yet if I sit here and say to myself that I am not going to die then I become more anxious and if I say to myself that I don’t need to live I become equally as anxious. What the fuck is that all about? It makes no sense. Nothing makes sense. It’s all so contradictory. The thought of living for the foreseeable scares the crap out of me but when I really start thinking deeply about death it scares the crap out of me as well. It never did until the last serious suicide attempt I made and now I get the flashbacks of that one particular moment where my blood pressure crashed and they were all panicking around me and I knew those figures were seriously low and I was trying so so hard to keep my eyes open, terrified of what was happening to me and those words just slipped out my mouth “am I going to die? I don’t want to die” and every time I think of that and how I felt both physically and mentally in that moment is enough to make me pretty much guarantee I will never take another overdose (well not the cocktail I used that time) in my life. Of course there’s plenty other ways.

This coming week I have to see new CPN tomorrow which I’ve not decided if I’m going to or not. I missed the last appointment but to be honest I just don’t want to see her. But I also have an appointment with my support worker from Rape Crisis and I haven’t seen her in a couple of weeks either so maybe I should just go to both of them. At least I know if I leave the appointment with new CPN with any bad thoughts going round my head that I can talk to my support worker who I seem to get on with a lot better.

I also have to see lovely GP this week on Wednesday and also Mr Psychiatrist on Wednesday, as usual I’m not particularly looking forward to that one. But then again I’m seeing him first then lovely GP later in the afternoon so if he pisses me off at least I know she’ll be more understanding. I just don’t know what he’s going to say/do about the voices still being very much present despite being up on the max dose of Quetiapine again. I really really don’t want to switch to yet another anti-psychotic but at the same time I really don’t want the voices either, they are making me do all this planning and plotting, telling me how to do things, putting ideas in my head.

Next weekend my entire family all make the 200 mile trip down to England for my cousin’s wedding. The one I was supposed to be a bridesmaid for. The one the fucking agoraphobia is making me too terrified to attend. Every single member of my family is going to be there apart from me. Seeing the wedding photos is going to hurt really bad. But the voices start up and tell me what a perfect opportunity it will be, everyone gone for the whole weekend, it would be ideal. I could get all my plans in place then go to see best friend with a fake smile painted on, ask her to watch the dogs for a little while and come home. Perfect opportunity.

But… I can’t do anything then can I… because a couple of days later is my little man’s angel anniversary and I will be here for that. I will do the same as I do every year and spend a lot of time by his headstone, talking to my baby and crying lots of tears. Making his headstone look all pretty. A certain someone who I have a massive amount of respect for once told me that if I was no longer here then no one would keep my little man’s memory alive… well not the way that I do or the way I’d want them to. I am the only person who can do that and I can only do it if I’m here.

So basically I feel completely stuck. Scared to live. Scared to die. Yet this depression just carries on getting worse and worse. I continue to hear voices and end up quite distressed by them at times. I want to blank it all out. I want to escape from it all. I just don’t see how I can continue to live this way. It just feels like existing. The days just all seem to blur into one and every day it gets harder and harder to stay strong.

Tonight what will keep me strong is my poorly dog, making sure he gets fluids every few hours then first thing in the morning I will be phoning the vet, he needs to be seen again. I think he’s going to need to spend the day in there on a drip and get properly rehydrated. God only knows how much that’s going to cost me but I don’t think I’m going to have any other choice. He’s one of my fur babies and I have to make sure he gets better.

So, with a mixed up and tired head I’m going to try and get him to come for a little walk then get to bed reasonably early as it’s going to be another long night of getting up and down every couple of hours and then a long day with vets and two appointments tomorrow. My head feels totally pickled, I have too many thoughts and ideas and plans running through it and I’m too exhausted with them all that I can’t give them the attention that is needed. Things just feel like they are spinning a little bit out of control, the only button I seem to want to press is the self destruct one, to at least hurt and hurt by cutting. I need a way to release all of this frustration, I thought when I self harmed badly a couple of weeks ago that I had got it all out of me but clearly I haven’t. But just like not wanting to attend appointments I don’t want another trip to A&E, more stitches, more questions, more fear of being judged or control being removed.

Argh. I need to go find a quiet spot in the middle of nowhere and scream as loud as I can until I’m screaming louder than them and I can try to drown it all out. I’ve been listening to the new Rihanna album on my iPod (turned up full) whilst I’ve been writing this, very loud music through earphones is about the only way I can tolerate loud head noise and I still hear the voices over the music, they are just blurred out a bit. Anyway, this has been a bit of a depressing post so I’ll say goodnight and leave you with what I’ve been listening to… there’s something quite lovely about this song… it reminds me of a certain time in my life… there’s something quite poignant about it… and yes, as usual I prefer reading the lyrics than watching the actual music video…

Enjoy…