Tag Archives: anxious

17:07 – “But you need to at least try….”

15 Jul

Tomorrow I have an appointment at big scary hospital to see a consultant dermatologist as my psoriasis is really bad at the moment. I have only been to big scary hospital in the back of an ambulance after I have taken an overdose or something and am sedated or completely out of it and tomorrow I am supposed to be there at 9.05am.

We have talked about this for a couple of weeks, whether or not I was going to try and go. We had come up with a plan that my social worker would drive and my Mum would come with us and sit in the back seat with me so I could cuddle into her and close my eyes. I had asked my social worker to speak to Mr Psychiatrist about a small amount of sedation like 2mg Lorazepam but he refused saying that I had to experience a panic attack without masking it with medication and realise it wasn’t going to kill me. I sort of understand where he is coming from, and because I can now get the bus back from the looney bin which is like 2 hours away he thinks my agoraphobia is pretty much gone. He doesn’t seem to get that I can only do that route now because I did it with sedation the first few times and now that it has become familiar to me it no longer scares me.

Big scary hospital on the other hand is not a route I am familiar with and so I hoped he would prescribe something for the first attempt at getting there, but he said no. I do have a little stash, as most of us mentalz do, I’ve got a couple of lorazepam from a previous hospital visit, I’ve got my prescribed diazepam and I’ve got a couple of Zopiclone that I got off a friend. I have already told my social worker that I will self medicate to try and get myself there and she basically said there was nothing she could do to stop me but the most important thing is that I get to the appointment.

My psoriasis is now covering my elbows, my thighs, my knees and lower legs and little patches are now appearing on my hands and feet. If I go to the appointment and have to show it all to the dermatologist then I will also need to expose my “worst” self harm scars. This worries me a lot as well.

This morning I woke up and tried to use mindfulness to put me in a calm and positive frame of mind but instead I ended up being sick then having a panic attack just thinking about it. So I took some diazepam but it didn’t make the panic attack go away and then I was sick again. Then I ended up in tears because I was panicking so much and nothing was helping it and I hate being sick also so I decided that I was cancelling the appointment. I phoned best friend to see what she thought and her response was “but you need to at least try and do it” – how can I even try when I’m so fucking terrified?

Mum is away to big scary city an hour away visiting my Aunt to see how she is recovering before the chemo starts so I can’t phone her until tonight. I have to let her know tonight if I’m going to try and go or not as we will need to leave here shortly after 8am tomorrow morning. I tried to contact my social worker as well but I know she will say the same, that ultimately it’s up to me but I really need my skin looked at and some proper treatment prescribed. We have tried every single steroid cream possible and the next step is UV light treatment. Which will mean regular trips to big scary hospital. But will it still be big scary hospital after I have done it once? Will I be able to do it with less/no sedation the 2nd or 3rd time once it’s familiar?

I really don’t know what to do. Every time I think about it I end up in a complete mess and I don’t want to mess anyone around in the morning. I need to decide that I am going to give it a shot or decide I am cancelling the appointment. I am scared that if I go in social worker’s car that even though I would be with two people I trust more than anything, I would be stuck in the back with no door to escape out of and once I’m in the car she could just keep driving and take me there even if I was hysterical.

I really, truly do not know what to do. I don’t think I am brave enough to try but then I look at my body and know I can’t go on like this. Why the fuck do I need to stay in such a rural area where we can’t even have a dermatologist outpatient clinic? I am so so scared and my mind is racing at 100 miles an hour back and forth, back and forth, can I do it? No I cant… Yes I can…. No I can’t. I need to make a decision and stick with it but I don’t even think I can do that. I want the easy way out – phone and cancel, but I also want my skin to heal.

Ugh I just do not know what to do.


12:57 – A&E – To go or not to go

21 Apr


At some point this afternoon I have to go up to A&E to have my recent self harm wounds checked and hopefully the stitches off. These ones didn’t need suturing, he managed to use glue and steri-strip stitches. The glue is at that extremely itchy stage where I keep wanting to claw at the dressings. I can’t wait for it to all come off over the next few days. I really don’t want to go to A&E today because I actually don’t want to see the damage that lies underneath those two dressing pads. I’m sitting here in shorts and t-shirt pj’s and all I can see is scars, some neat and some so ugly. My left leg and left arm are ruined. A total mess.

So, right now it’s only coming on for 1pm and he said to me to go up anytime between 2pm and 6pm. I think it will be closer to 6pm if I actually make it up there. On saying that, at least I know if I go today then it will be the same nurse I saw on Tuesday and he is a nice guy who I can talk to without feeling judged. I have this very weird feeling that I don’t think I’ve experienced before, where I think as soon as I see what damage I have done to my arm then it might actually trigger me into wanting to do it again. Usually after I have self harmed and had it treated I will look after the wound, change the dressings, give it a little clean each day and generally see how it is healing. This time I haven’t taken the dressings off once because I’m scared to see what’s underneath. I just feel like I could be very easily triggered today but despite getting on well with the nurse I can’t tell him that. Remember on Tuesday he wanted me to speak with the doctor and I just left the hospital without telling anyone and came home, so today when he asks the obligatory question, “do you think you are going to self harm again today?” I will have no choice but to lie and say no. Because I don’t want the shit that telling the truth will bring.

If, when he asks me what I’ve been doing since Tuesday, I say “well I’ve carved the star of Satan into my arm, I’ve had a Satan style tattoo branded on me, I thought it might make the devil stop hurting me as much but so far it hasn’t worked, well it sort of has worked because he is happy with me now but with his happiness comes the demands for further tasks to be carried out to prove my loyalty to him so that he will stop controlling my thoughts and let the Lord think I am worthy of leaving Satan’s control to go back to the Lord’s control, and, well, ….”

And yes, it would come out like a big mixed up mumble jumble just like that. That is the sort of thing that will come out my mouth. And that is the kind of thing that ‘th3 normalz’ think is crazy talk, “concerning” talk, not “normal” talk. And what do they do when they think you are crazy and not normal? They put you in the bin. And I am not going in the bin thank you very much, I am staying right here at home.

/end of rant for now.

16:56 – Mother’s Day

18 Mar

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.

21:30 – Fucked up head

5 Dec

I have just found out that my abusers brother is moving to my little town. My little safe town where I have my safe flat and can lock out badness from the outside world. Why here of all places? Apparently because his girlfriend has family here and he has managed to get a job here. Yes I know it is not his fault that his brother was a child abuser but blood is thicker than water and I have no doubt that he would defend his (unfortunately..) deceased brother. I have no idea how much or how little he knows re: the abuse but readers who have been reading here for a while might remember when his niece (abuser’s teenage daughter) kicked off on my personal Facebook page which resulted in me sending her a long email telling her everything. It was controversial on here, some agreed I had done the right thing, other’s said she was too young for me to have been so blunt in it. But that’s in the past now. My worry is that she has grown up with him like brother and sister and I don’t want any confrontations. I don’t want any trouble being brought to my door and quite honestly I don’t want them to move here. One part of my head says stop being stupid, the guy needs to earn money and with things as they are just now I should be looking upon him admirably for managing to get a job to support his young family. He didn’t abuse me so he can’t hurt me in that way. If he knows things then there is a chance he could hurt me emotionally but hey, all that is still to be experienced. What put the icing on the cake was finding out that my male friend J who I spend a lot of time with, well his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend are friends with abuser’s brother. They have been friends on Facebook all this time – how did I not notice and know they were friends until now when I find out he is moving here? You know what the real problem is – it’s how they look. Identical. It’s just like him in another body even though I know it’s not him. Maybe this is how I’m destined to overcome my agoraphobia by running as far from here as I can before my head gets any more fucked up.

I was going to mention something about where I’m at with ‘the professionals’ but to be honest there isn’t much to say. I saw the psychiatrist last week and my new CPN. I still don’t like new CPN but it was slightly easier with her than it had been the time before. I didn’t want to be in the appointment with the psychiatrist either and after being kept waiting for half an hour I was in and out as quickly as possible. I’m hoping I don’t have to see him til 2012 now even though I have an appointment next week which is getting cancelled. My Olanzapine is now at 7.5mg with an increase maybe next week to 10mg but so far I feel nothing. The voices are not so much louder just more frequent, I’ve caught myself speaking out loud to them a few times which makes me want to hide indoors even more.

Really I just see everything as another sign of why I shouldn’t be here any longer, not challenges that I have to overcome one by one, just the feeling that when I failed to die last time that I tried to end it all was my trial and now I’m being pushed and pushed into a corner so I either must run or not be here at all. Either way I don’t think I can stay here for very much longer.

10:10 – Max dose of Quetiapine/Seroquel… And apparently I’m still in psychosis…

29 Sep

There are a lot of things I tried to explain yesterday when I was with Mr Psychiatrist. We did one of those circle things that link thoughts, feelings, events, behaviours, etc. For a very long time now (2 years+) I’ve had the belief that people can hear my thoughts and can hear everything that’s inside my head. This distresses me especially when a place is busy it makes me even more anxious because there are so many people who can get into my head and start reading me. They just have to look at me in a certain way and I know that’s them inside of my mind; and that anxiety continues until I know I’m starting to have a panic attack and I have to leave wherever I am *now*.

I’m not entirely sure why they want to read my head other than to laugh at how pathetic I am really. Sometimes I can start feeling paranoia coming on out of nowhere when I spot someone who appears to be looking at me and this quickly changes to me thinking that they are following me, I see the CCTV cameras moving towards me and they start to follow me as well. I had been in the supermarket the other day and was becoming incredibly anxious as it was busy and making my head too noisy. When I got home there was a man on the roof of the building opposite me, pretty much eye level with my flat, and I could see him watching me. He was trying to hide it but I knew what he was up to. So I closed the curtains on him because I could hear him shouting down to his work mate and I’m sure I heard him say something about all his work being done now and something about a chip. Did someone from the supermarket get him to put a chip into my mind so that they can all hear my thoughts even when I’m here, in my flat and on my own?

I just can’t work out why they want to get into my head and steal all of my thoughts or ideas. I *hate* it when a stranger makes eye contact with me, it’s like an immediate feeling like they aren’t just reading my thoughts but are inside my mind and they can play about with my thoughts and feelings just for their amusement or maybe for some kind of testing like I’m their guinea pig.

A lot of the time I can’t sleep or I wake up a lot because I lie there thinking over and over in vivid detail about everything that’s happened that day. I can end up staying up for a full night if my thoughts are racing too much, blaming myself for being so stupid, terrified that whatever I did to make all these things happen to me will never ever go away. And then I start to have these flashback things, the most recent being while I was in hospital and seeing those disgusting slugs working their way along the light strip then seeing my baby in his coffin on the floor. I couldn’t let the slugs get my baby but if I moved like to get out of the bed and bring him over to me he would kind of disappear before my eyes. The slugs didn’t go away though, they stayed all night and all day smearing their slime everywhere.

I barely slept last night because all I could think about was trying to work out how where and when they could have put a tracking chip inside me. I examined under my hair and all over my body but there are no holes. Well there are stitch things on my arm from Tuesday night when I cut, but I had a jacket on yesterday. So I’m confused and thinking maybe they haven’t chipped me but are just spying on me and reading my thoughts whenever they get the chance. But why me? I’m boring and don’t do anything exciting. Perhaps they even have the wrong person that they are watching, I wish they would figure it out because it’s turning me into a paranoid wreck.

The last part of my crazies just now is back to the topic of blood. When I had the very loud and commanding voice of Patty last year she kept telling me to cut and release the blood because there was ‘fortune in my blood’. And maybe it was greed on my part for wanting to find the fortune she was referring to, but I never did. Maybe that’s because they started ramping up the Quetiapine. Now it’s like the polar opposite, all I can think about with regards to self harm is that my blood is bad. Because I am bad and I need blood circulating round my body to keep me alive so all my badness is just going to continue round and round my body, never going away.

My mind is crazy. My body is horrid.

I am seeing Mr Psychiatrist again in two weeks time. If I haven’t felt any improvement from the 750mg Quetiapine by then, then he is going to change my anti-psychotic meds. His little conclusion from our appointment was that I’m in psychosis, have distorted perceptions of reality and delusional beliefs and something was briefly mentioned about schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder because I’m showing more signs of them than bipolar now but he said he wasn’t changing my diagnosis, just going to watch the patterns of my moods and thoughts and beliefs a little closer.

I asked him if he thought I’d left the bin too early and he asked me to come home, get a bag, then go through every drawer and cupboard etc in my flat and put everything into the bag that I would likely reach for when I’m self harming. I said I’d try but as time went past I realised what a stupid idea that would be. I have wires everywhere – from my TV, hair dryer, new hair straighteners, a little radiator thing I use when I’m cold, a number of little lamps around the place – I mean, it’s not going to work. OK, I know he probably meant blades or any excessive medication I would use but to be honest there is a craft shop about two minutes walk from my flat that sells craft knives so throwing things out would really just be pointless. I see his point, that it would put a delay on my actions therefore giving me more time to think ‘do I really want to do this?’ but when I need to do it, I need to do it. And blades are so damn cheap, like £1 for 10 blades, it’s all far too easy to throw all my sharps away but in the space of five minutes been to the shop and back with more.

Anyway I’ve blabbed on enough now. I don’t quite know where my head is at today other than knowing that I’m very tired. But I’m going to try and stay awake all day so that I might get a better night’s sleep tonight.

20:47 – Hospital A&E and Mr Psych tomorrow

27 Sep

It’s an interesting situation when you are in a little sleepy place in Scotland and you go along to the wee local hospital to find 3 lovely members of staff on duty. Each one of them English, the social worker who came with me is also English. I thought I was in the wrong country!

I was at aforementioned wee hospital to get my arm patched up. I’m not quite sure where my head was at today but it felt pretty mixed. Irritable yet unmotivated. Calm yet suicidal. Anxious and panicking.

Finally just before CMHT closed I made contact with the social worker I mentioned above. She has been with me before to the hospital for the same thing. I had two cuts that were bleeding quite a lot and several other little shallow ones. Sorry if that was tmi but my head is in it’s own little zone right now. And I keep muddling my words up. And I woke up with a rash on my arm I don’t know what that’s all about. Also I have no water right now because they are digging and drilling and replacing water typed stuff in my street.

Hospital nurse was lovely. Other social worker was lovely. That’s one thing I’ve always been pretty fortunate about – going to a&e and haven’t really come across many judgemental nurses, most have been very nice and put me at ease. I said that to her today – the nurse – that it was so nice not to feel judged. I don’t think they have any idea how much of a difference they can make to our hospital trips when they treat us nicely, gently and with respect compared to those types of nurse who would happily suture you back together without even a mention of an anaesthetic – ‘cos you enjoy the pain.. right? :/

So I’m all back in one piece again now. I have an appointment with Mr Psychiatrist tomorrow at 2.30pm and one of the support workers is picking me up at 2.15 just to ensure I actually go to the appointment. They said I could have someone sit in with me if I want (this is the first one ever that my social worker hasn’t been at with me and I’m scared) but I have said I’m going to try and do the appointment alone with him. Part of that is because I don’t want any more people to hear the crazy shit that comes out my mouth when I’m in my appointments with him, the stuff he terms as psychosis, the stuff I refer to as the crazies. I don’t want any of the other CMHT staff see me in that way. I don’t know why.

I told nice other social work lady that I was going out to my friend’s house tonight just so she thought I would be keeping myself safe somewhere but I was hungry and tired so I came home and had some food and before I knew it, it was 8pm. I have been a good girl in one sense – I washed all my bedding and towels and clothes this week – so that’s one thing up to date.

To be honest I’m fucking shattered and I have no reason to be. The most exercise I’ve had today was either a 10 minute walk with the dogs or half an hour bursts of self harming. Emotionally drained, that’s the one I’m looking for.

I think I will take the dogs a walk and then take my medication a bit earlier than usual with the hope of being asleep before 11pm would be good. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. Part of that is because I know I have to do the be honest thing and tell him what crazies are still there and about the hospital trip today. I know he is going to question why I left hospital so quickly but in the heat of the moment all I could see was a dream like bubble wrapping me up and shouting FREEDOM!!

Maybe I did come out too soon. I truly want to start this EMDR therapy and I need to be stable to do that. Whether I’m at home or in hospital my self harm risks are around the same. At home I have lots more things to distract me. In hospital I think too much. At home I think even more. In hospital I get so damn homesick and lonely. At home I isolate myself anyway. And I really don’t know what my poor Mum would say if I phoned her tomorrow saying the psych wants me to go back into hospital. Every behaviour I have at home I somehow manage to replicate in hospital. I don’t get why everyone can’t just agree on one thing – suicide is likely going to be the end of me; one day – somewhere, sometime.

Hospital Diary 8 of 10 (From Friday 16th September)

26 Sep

It’s around 4pm and I’m bored out of my mind. I really can’t handle this at all. I saw Mr Psychiatrist today and decided that honesty was the best policy. Apparently that was wrong of me because my 24/7 obs are going to continue all weekend until my review on Monday. I want out of here so badly but there is no point in trying to do a runner when you have someone shadowing you every minute of the day. I feel as though I’m in a goldfish bowl or the big brother house or something. 

I’ve had a very emotional day, crying pretty much non stop. A new woman was in the bed next to me when I woke up this morning, clearly in a psychotic episode and I totally broke down because she was moved as soon as she woke up into a private room (which I’ve been asking for all fucking week).

Mr Psychiatrist has now increased my Quetiapine/Seroquel to 750mg a day. That’s the max dose he is going to prescribe so I really hope it is going to make a change or I’m going to have to start from scratch on a new med. Although personally I would prefer to leave it at 750mg and try upping my Lamotrigine/Lamictal dose next. Tried asking psych for something to help me sleep at night but he says if I’m taking 300mg Quetiapine in the morning and 450mg at bed time I should sleep better and he wants me to try that first. I do also get a small amount of diazepam throughout the day but it really only helps with the anxiety of being so far from home – the agoraphobia stuff. 

I’m feeling pretty gutted at the moment ‘cos my Mum and my best friend were due to be coming up to visit me tomorrow and now I’ve been told that I’m going to be on obs all weekend so I won’t be allowed off the grounds. It’s too far to travel to come and see me and only be allowed metres from the building. 

Something is going to happen tonight. I can feel the anger rising and the aggressiveness kicking in, I fucking hate this place. As they say on “I’m a celebrity” – GET ME OUT OF HERE!!

Protected: 13:17 – Doctor in 2 hours and shit scared

3 May

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Protected: 11:23 – What the fuck is happening to me?

26 Feb

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: