Tag Archives: family

00:42 – Well that’s it over for another year

29 Oct

Thank you to all the people who sent birthday wishes through facebook and twitter. I’m not sure what I’ve done to my facebook settings as when I logged on I had 47 private messages and lots of people saying they were sending them as they couldn’t post on my wall… I must have fucked about with the settings at some point and will need to re-fuck about with them to sort it!

So there we go… another year older and another birthday over for another year. It has been a strange day… I went to a posh fancy restaurant for lunch with my parents and my brother but for some reason was feeling super anxious. The restaurant was kinda far away but on the road I’m getting more confident with… however all of the agoraphobic head crazies started up which resulted in me making us arrive half an hour late because I kept making excuses up to avoid leaving the house. In the end we had lovely food and nice conversation but as soon as we were finished eating I just wanted to get out of there, which made me feel a bit bad because it cost the parents a lot of money to take us there to eat. So I went outside for a cigarette a couple of times and tried to just breathe and tell myself I’d be home soon, everything was OK, I wasn’t that far from home… I could do this… etc etc.

My parents gave me money and chocolates… my brother and his girlfriend got me scented candles, a bottle of my favourite amaretto and a gift voucher to go and get my nails done. It doesn’t expire until January so I think I might just wait and get them done for Christmas… or maybe I’ll go before then and just keep getting them infilled for a while.

I got back home around 3.30pm and male friend who I haven’t seen in way over a month appeared at the door to wish me a happy birthday which was nice of him. He stayed for an hour or so and we had a bit of a catch up… I moaned about best friend and how let down I feel by her just now… He moaned about one of his friends who has pissed him off… We were like a little old couple sitting here moaning and gossiping about the world!

After he left I decided it was time to study and have just spent six hours engrossed in my textbooks. I have finally caught up with one of my modules but the other one – which the essay is due for at the end of the week – I’m still really far behind with that and still haven’t started the essay. I actually emailed the module leader earlier and explained I was struggling and very far behind to see if she could maybe give me any tips along the lines of which weeks to make sure I’ve studied properly and which ones aren’t so relevant to the essay that I could maybe catch up on over the next couple of weeks. Hopefully she will email me back tomorrow with some advice because I am super stressed out right now.

Tomorrow I will be studying from the moment I wake up until the moment I go to bed apart from taking the dogs out for a few walks throughout the day. I need to get as much done as possible tomorrow and at the very least make an essay plan with everything written down that I need to remember to include in it.

Wednesday is going to be a bit of a pain in the ass day as I have new psychiatrist at 2.30pm but lovely support worker is taking me and coming to pick me up at 2pm. So I’ll need to try and get up earlier than usual so I can get a couple of hours studying done before I go and then get back to it when I get home. I’m so not looking forward to this appointment with him and am super tempted to cancel it because the last two appointments have been such a complete waste of time and I feel like we are working against each other rather than with each other. I’m also tempted to cancel my appointment on Thursday with CPN#2 – again because I just have so much to do this week that I can’t really spare a couple of hours to get there, have the appointment and get home again… I must study, study, study and keep on writing and writing and writing. There is no time for sleep or appointments… just have a little cat nap and then get back to it again. It’s the only way I’m going to have any chance of getting through this week.

So yeah, today I have felt like I’ve had a bit of a fake smile painted on my face most of the time. Internally my brain feels like it wants to ‘crash’ but I can’t let that happen. Bad thoughts keep on fleeting through my head saying if I just cut once or twice it will ground me and get me focused again and stop my head from wandering off. Everything just feels too hard, I’m having major doubts about my ability to carry on with the uni course… even part time is just too much… but I don’t know how much of that is just me still feeling pretty depressed and when I feel low absolutely everything is a struggle… even the simplest of things… so a fairly challenging degree level course is obviously going to be tough going. Part of me just wants to drop out but I know that if I do then I will feel like I’ve failed at yet another thing in life which is only going to fuel the depressive thoughts even more. So I guess I just keep on going… keep telling myself I just need to get through this tough week then get back on track with the studies throughout November and before I know it December will be here, I’ll have another couple of super stressful weeks submitting my final essays for these two modules and then it will be Christmas break and I can relax for a few weeks.

Anyways… it’s that time of night again where the dogs need their bedtime walk and I need my medication and a few hours sleep. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a longggg longggg day.

23:52 – Mesmerised

17 Apr

Just a short post. Went out for a meal with the parents and my Gran. The food was nice but I wasn’t great company. After an hour or so I began to make my excuses to leave. My leg is very sore but I still don’t feel any regrets for self harming.

Something to share with you all that I (and I’m sure many others) was very touched by on Saturday night. It is a new series of Britain’s Got Talent and an amateur dance/dramatics group called Attraction performed. At first I was like not really paying much attention but then I became more and more mesmerised and by the end had a huge lump in my throat. I can’t wait to see what they do in the next round.

For those who haven’t seen it… watch it… be mesmerised by it… see if it has touched you by the end…

15:15 – Last appt with Mr Psychiatrist and a trip to A&E

17 Apr

Trigger Warning – graphic talk of self harm in this post

All I have been able to think about for days now is cutting. Cutting, cutting and more cutting. The more I try to distract myself the more graphic the images in my head become. The more I try to ignore, the louder male voice gets and that triggers him to start spewing out vile evil instructions in my head. What hasn’t been helping is the lack of sleep. What also hasn’t been helping is all the pressure I feel that everyone thinks I’m doing so well and coping so well and I am shitting myself that everything is going to fall apart and I am going to let down every person I care about. I’m terrified of being back in that place where you feel so worthless and then can’t even manage to take your own life properly… got to fail at that too just to rub that extra bit of salt into the wounds.

Last night I fell asleep on the sofa around 1am. I quickly woke back up just after 2am as it was freezing. But instead of putting the heating on or getting into bed I just covered myself in a blanket and lay on the sofa thinking about things. Wondering why my life turned out this way. I had a bit of a cry for a while, they were sad tears, tears of all the times in my life where things actually looked like they were going well then ultimately they all fell apart. Why do they all fall apart? Why can’t something nice just remain consistent in my life? I don’t want this life. I wanted to try and better it by doing the part time uni course and not even a year into it and I don’t think I can do it any more. I have no belief in myself whatsoever. I want to run and hide and curl away. I don’t want to speak to anyone. I don’t want anyone to see me… but this morning I had no choice.

Around 6am I was still awake and was starting to feel very anxious and sort of like I wasn’t fully in control. My thoughts felt like they had been taken over, I was so tired I just went with it. The voices told me to cut, told me it would fix things… male voice told me to just “fucking make yourself uglier you fat slag”… again I tried distraction techniques but just got nowhere.

By 8am I was pacing, anxious, heart racing, feeling sick, tired, emotional, feeling really bonkers crazy, seeing flashes of me going outside and just attacking any random object or any random person. THAT IS NOT ME. I DO NOT DO THAT! EVER! I don’t know where all these violent urges are coming from but they are so fucking terrifying. It’s not even as though I’m angry at anyone or about anything… angry with myself that I can’t bounce back to being the fun person I once was once upon a time… but that’s more of a sad angry than a violent one. Needless to say I ended up getting out everything required for self harming – a pack of clean stanley knife blades, a towel, some dressings and sat down cross-legged on the bathroom floor. I made a deal with myself that I could cut once then I would clean it up, cover it up and go no further. But of course that didn’t happen… those little cuts looked too much like scratches… those visuals flashed in front of my eyes again wanting to see gaping wounds… I felt like I couldn’t even do that right. In the end I got a fresh blade from the packet, closed my eyes and just pressed down and dragged it through my skin. It felt like my skin was burning from the pain and I expected to see a much worse wound than what I did see… however it was pretty gaping so I decided it would be OK to stop cutting then. I got myself patched up and tried to stay distracted through til 10.30am when I had to leave to go to my last ever appointment with Mr Psychiatrist.

The reason it’s my last appointment is that he is retiring and he explained he didn’t know who would be taking over from him yet but there would be a locum in place for a while until someone permanent takes over. I swear no one with a professional mental health background seems to want to work for our NHS trust, all these permanent positions never seem to get filled for what seems like forever. I told Mr Psychiatrist about self harming this morning and told him that when I left my appointment with him that I would go along to the A&E department and have them check me over. He asked what had led to me cutting and I told him all the shit I rambled about at the start of this post – these feelings of pressure and these horrible horrendous images I keep seeing. He knows it is a coping mechanism of mine and he’s told me a million times it isn’t a helpful one but I think he’s come to realise there is no point in telling me that any more.

We didn’t talk about a lot of things in detail today, I think when he realised I was sitting there with a wound needing medical attention he tried to just whizz through everything as quickly as possible. He said that he still feels that even though male voice is male (and I am female) that the things male voice says to me are things which I actually feel about myself deep down. Almost like it’s my thoughts and beliefs but being heard in a male tone. I kinda see his point but I also know it’s not as simple as that, male voice can come out with things that have never even crossed my mind before. Plus there is a big difference between a voice and a thought (even racing horrible thoughts) and I think you can only know this and understand this if you have actually experienced it.

What else did we talk about… cutting – voices – male voice – pressure – images – violence – lack of support – and a referral which I requested to another psychiatrist, one who specialises in trauma therapy and who told me a couple of years ago that he believed the EMDR treatment could be beneficial to me but at that time I was considered too unwell and too unstable to try it out. Mr Psychiatrist said he didn’t want me working with lots of different people and lots of different approaches (he said this because psychologist is supposed to be coming back at some point over the next few weeks and she is likely to want to do the compassionate mind and mindfulness program with me). However he agreed to write to the other psychiatrist and see if he would be willing to give me an appointment to assess my suitability for EMDR.

Before I left the appointment he asked me what help I was getting through the CMHT (mental health team) at the moment and I told him pretty much none. That I had 3 CPN’s who have all left now and that I was supposed to have lovely social worker as someone to see until psychologist returns back to work but that we’ve only met up once, so that bit isn’t going so great. In fairness I haven’t tried to make a great deal of contact with her but I had hoped we would have been able to stick out the once a fortnight meetings just for a month or two until psychologist returns… but it hasn’t worked out that way. Instead I’ve just been seeing my support worker through rape crisis pretty much on a weekly basis but at least I am actually trying to deal with some of my issues with her – the childhood abuse/the assault/the self harming/the feelings of worthlessness. But she shouldn’t have to deal with all my mentalness stuff as well, that should be someone from the CMHT but it never seems to work out that way.

God this post is getting long…

I said my goodbyes to Mr Psychiatrist and muttered thank you to him for the support he’s given me over the past 4 years or so (even though he’s also been a total wanker to me in that time!) but it’s just what you do isn’t it? Say thanks, smile, make them think they have helped you get a bit better when really what they have done is remove power and control from you, detain you, make you like a human guinea pig with all the varieties of medications they insist will make you better, tell you that even voices are still a product of your own mind, try to make you believe things will get better if you just have good sleep patterns and distract yourself 24/7. But still, I was brought up to be polite and so it was only right to just say thank you to him as I left.

I walked along to the A&E department and thankfully it was two of the nice nurses on, the female charge nurse who has come to a couple of my CPA meetings and a male nurse who is very gentle and non-judgemental. Even though I knew in my head that I had met the male nurse before and knew he was always nice and knew he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me it still felt weird being in a room alone with him. I was in a room alone with Mr Psychiatrist but the whole appointment kept my coat on and sat in the chair pointing the door (always got to have my escape route planned out as soon as I enter a room)… so yeah it had felt safe enough with Mr Psych. And I did feel safe with male nurse but more exposed and vulnerable I guess as the coat had to come off and the shoes off and one leg out of my trousers…. like I couldn’t just jump to my feet and leg it out the door if I wanted to… so that was making me pretty anxious.

He took a look at the wound and decided it definitely needed stitches so he went to get the doctor. It was a doctor I hadn’t seen before and I didn’t like him very much, he had a bit of a patronising tone and I just wanted him to fuck off back out the room. Plus having two men at either side of me while I lay on the trolley bed was making me very very uncomfortable. I asked the doctor if he could please get me some Lorazepam and he said “we don’t keep lorazepam at this hospital” – BULLSHIT!! – I have probably been given a couple of lorazepam on at least 20 occasions from that A&E either for anxiety that’s led to self harm or to get me into the ambulance if they have been moving me to another hospital or the psych hospital. So I asked again if I could have Lorazepam because I needed to calm down and he very firmly said “you cannot have Lorazepam” – argh I hate when I know people are lying to me. Had he said something like they didn’t have any left or something then I would’ve dealt with that, but I knew fine they had it and knew fine that if it was one of the doctors who have seen me before then they would have given it to me asap to calm me down so they could put the stitches in. He said I could have a Diazepam if I wanted (despite me telling him I’ve been on daily prescription Diazepam for years and it does FUCK ALL when I feel as anxious as I did then, but he went and got me one anyway and like a good mental I shut up and took it.

I got seven stitches put in and a little glue and steri-strips on the non-gaping cuts and have to go back in 2 days, so Friday, for a wound check and dressing change. I told male nurse that usually I would be feeling regret pretty much immediately after cutting but today I don’t. I don’t regret it, I don’t care that I’ve got more scars on my body now, I don’t care that the one bit of leg that I had kept scar free is now mutilated as well. He said to me if I felt like cutting again to go up and see them and they would try and get someone to sit and talk to me which I was very grateful for, but I don’t want to talk, I just don’t fucking care about anything. I feel so low and so emotional and so tired and all I want is to have a few hours of feeling normal…whatever the hell that is… and I would much rather not do anything which may leave me having to see that doctor again as I really didn’t like him much at all. It was something about the way he spoke to me… there was an obvious power balance thing going on and he spoke to me the way I speak to best friend’s four year old.

Anyways….

My Mum phoned me as I was leaving the hospital and said my Grandma is staying with them for a couple of days and they were all going out for dinner tonight so she was phoning to ask if I wanted to go. As the restaurant they are going to is directly opposite my flat I couldn’t really say no but I am so tired and am really not in the mood at all to sit through a long meal and listen to all the chitter chatter at the table… plus it’s a kinda posh restaurant and I hate trying to get dressed up when I feel so fucking ugly and awful. However, I love my little Gran and don’t see anywhere near enough of her so I will go. The table is booked for 7pm… ugh that’s less than 3 hours away… I just realised I started writing this at 15:15 and we are now on 16:18 … an hour of ramblings… no wonder this post is going on forever.

And on that note I suppose I had better go and find something to wear tonight. Hope you’re all having a bit of a better day than me xx

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…

21:37 – I don’t know if this is going to work out

7 Jan

I had an appointment at 10 am this morning with new CPN. My alarm was set for 8 so that I would have enough time to have a shower, take the dogs a walk and then get to the CMHT building. But I’d been awake most of the night so when the alarm went off I hit ‘snooze’ every ten minutes until I realised it was 9.40 am and I was still in my pyjamas. I decided I would cancel the appointment but then thought I had better go. So I didn’t bother with a shower, scraped my hair back and turned up ten minutes late.

The first thing she did when we sat down was apologise for being off sick. Inside I wanted to say to her that I could really have done with at least the offer of support (from another CPN just whilst she was sick) and bring up the fact that she knew all that in advance but instead I just said it was OK.

She then asked how Christmas and New Year had gone and I told her they were OK, pretty quiet, I told her I’d been to my parents for Christmas Dinner then gone again on Thursday and saw some other family members I’d not seen for a while. I told her I couldn’t really relax and enjoy myself as I was feeling pretty anxious and she seemed surprised at this and questioned me on why I become anxious at my parents house when I get on well with them. I shrugged my shoulders and said I don’t know why, that it doesn’t really matter where I am, even when I feel completely safe a wave of anxiety can just come out of nowhere and build and build until it’s affecting me badly enough for other people to notice.

I had made the decision that I was going to try and tell her about the ‘blood letting’ I was doing but as I’ve not done that in nearly a week I didn’t know whether to tell her or not. So instead I told her about the pressure cooker feeling with regards to the self harm, that everyone keeps saying that I should be so proud of myself for going this long without doing it (well not doing it badly enough to need medical attention so they don’t find out) and also people commenting on how proud I should be for staying out of hospital for so long. I was trying to explain to her that on the inside I was really struggling and she hit me with something I wasn’t expecting. She started suggesting that the fear and struggling feelings I’m having could be because I am scared of getting well and scared of accepting that I am back in control again and the self harm behaviour isn’t controlling me any longer, I am controlling it and this makes me scared??… Apparently every time I start to say something positive I always add in the words “but” and “should” therefore playing down any achievements I’ve made and how I should count the amount of times I say the word “but” the next time I did some writing. Sorry new CPN I can’t be fucked to count.

Everything she was saying just felt wrong. I wanted to ask her to shut up and be quiet at one point so I could try and express to her what it is that I’m feeling on the inside, I wanted to talk about the reasons why I feel that hurting myself will provide me with relief, but she just rambled on something about how disappointed I’d be in myself and how disappointed the people who love and care about me would be to know I’d cut again. And then she spouted some more stuff telling me to really think about what self harming had actually achieved in my life and before I could answer, she answered for me, it had done nothing to help me and just left me “covered in scars” that have left me “ashamed” of my body. I felt myself almost hunch over as the realisation went through my head that I don’t think this is going to work out. Me and new CPN I mean. I’m not saying that things she says don’t have some truth to them, they usually do, but I never feel like she gives me the opportunity to properly open up to her, so instead I give her little snippets to test the water and then decide I don’t want to say any more, so I sat for the last ten or fifteen minutes pretty much in total silence, unable to keep eye contact with her, just staring at the floor mainly and waiting on her to finish.

I know we have only met a handful of times and I know there was a 3 or 4 week gap in appointments there but I just don’t feel as though I’m warming to her. I feel like she wants to just emphasise the good things in my life, not talk so much about the bad things and in turn I’m not opening up to her so the appointments are a bit of a waste of time. I don’t dislike her as such, I just feel as though I come out of our appointments feeling worse than when I went in.

And that’s pretty much how I’ve felt for the remainder of the day – worse. Like I needed to share the intensity of the self harm urges, I wanted to open up about the giggle and the head crazies happening more often, I wanted to tell her about all the sucking syringes of blood out of myself and the badness that remains inside of me. But I couldn’t say any of it and all I could hear were her words going round and round in my head this afternoon, about me being ashamed of my body because it’s so scarred and then I felt even more self conscious of my body and the need to cut became ridiculously intense so I took myself and the dogs out for a walk in the rain and to try and calm myself down a bit. Along with some Diazepam I came home nearly an hour later in a slightly calmer frame of mind, but to be honest I’ve felt pretty confused and mixed up through to this evening.

I have to get a new prescription on Wednesday and have the choice of making an appointment and going to see lovely GP or just handing in a repeat prescription request form. I can talk easier to lovely GP and whilst I don’t know that she can really offer me much help in just a ten minute slot, I think maybe I would feel better if I at least told someone who I feel understands me that things aren’t all smelling of roses like new CPN was making out.

Anyway it’s now 9.15 pm and I’m going to take the dogs for a walk and take my medication a little earlier with the hope of getting a better night’s sleep tonight. I still haven’t contacted best friend and saw she had put some quote as her status on Facebook that was something like “no matter how much you care for someone, you can only try so many times before you have to walk away” – call me paranoid (I quite possibly am) but it felt like it was directed at me. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’m just feeling a little over sensitive to everything tonight.

So I see new CPN again next week on Wednesday. If it goes the same way that today did and I come out feeling even more mental than when I went in, I think it might really be time to question whether or not I’m going to be able to develop an effective working relationship with her. She is a nice enough person, friendly and smiling, but she just doesn’t seem to want to listen to (or talk about) the bad emotions I experience and puts way too much emphasis on the ‘positives’ and all it does is confuse me. I am glad that to the outside world it appears as though I’m coping better than ever as it prevents people worrying about me, but in reality all it really means is that I’m getting better at hiding my inner turmoils and bottling them up so they end up adding to the pressure of the pressure cooker.

*Argh* I want to go to the very top of a hill in the middle of nowhere and scream until I can scream no more. I really really need to try and de-stress myself, this mixed up mess of a head is just making me feel a whole lot worse.

22:47 – Seeing the family… and stuff…

6 Jan

It’s been a few days since I last posted. On Thursday my Aunt and Uncle and my cousin and his girlfriend and my Grandma all went to my parents house for a little visit. Obviously my parents were also there as was my brother and his girlfriend. I  was feeling a mix of emotions on Thursday morning, I was anxious about being around people, having to stay for dinner and stay for at least a couple of hours and behave ‘normally’ so I took a couple of Diazepam as I was getting ready to go and kept half a strip in my bag (just in case).

It was nice to see them all again – especially to my Aunt who I haven’t seen since her cancer diagnosis, she looked exactly the same so that was nice, and the wig she was wearing, wow it was 100% real hair and styled exactly like my Aunt styles her hair – it was also lovely to see my little Gran again – but with the more time that passed the more the anxiety was starting to build up again and it came coupled with a nice dose of paranoia because I was hearing that constant giggling inside my head again.

It all kicked off when my Aunt mentioned my (female) cousin’s upcoming wedding on 9th February (the one that is hours away that I can’t get to) and just sitting listening to them all talking about what hotels they were staying in and how many guests were attending and even what the menu had on it… And I’m looking round thinking that even my brother’s girlfriend of a year is going to be part of a pretty huge family event for our small family and I’m missing my chance of being a bridesmaid as well as just being there to share in their day. At least they all seem to understand my agoraphobia and just accept that it’s going to take a lot of time and effort to overcome it, I wish my fucking psychiatrist would accept how much it affects my life grr.

So that put me into “escape mode” and I started making my excuses as to why I had to go. I was working myself into such a state internally that I completely forgot I had a few Diazepam in my bag that could have helped. I think I managed just short of three hours there which is pretty good going for me.

I haven’t answered the phone and have barely responded to text messages this past week. The only time I’ve really gone out the house (besides walking the dogs) was on Thursday to see the family. The rest of the time I’ve just been sitting in the house with the TV on that I don’t even watch, it’s just for background noise.

Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with new CPN at 10am. It feels like ages since I last saw her and I do still feel a bit let down over the whole lack of support over Xmas and New Year even after they had identified that I’m likely to need more support over that time. I don’t know if I will mention it to her or not, I’ll see if it’s something on my mind during the appointment. I know she is going to give me the “well done” speech for getting through a hard time of year without any crises but she doesn’t have a clue how hard it’s been deep down. And I don’t know if I have the words to tell her how hard it has been so I will no doubt end up just sitting there nodding my head and trying to remember to smile once every so often.

The main mind battle this weekend has been all of those self harm urges again. I keep getting so close and then something stops me at the last minute. I know I’ve said it a million times before but I truly don’t want to end up even in the local A&E department needing stitches because that will make the crumbling walls around me crumble even faster and give them the chance to see what sort of a fucked up place my head is really in.

And I just don’t want to talk to anyone about it at all. I just don’t want to talk to anyone at the moment full stop. I think best friend has given up on trying to call me as I have ignored every single call for about a week now. I still haven’t even said happy new year to her.

The pressure cooker lid is getting very very close to blowing off and I find it all a bit scary. The one thing that I have always believed that I was in control of (self harming) is fast becoming something that I have no control over at all and I can’t do it when I’m losing control because it escalates into a truly horrible place and usually does so pretty rapidly.

The longer I can keep the lid closed and keep everything tightly inside of me the better, I don’t even want to think about opening up to new CPN tomorrow, I actually feel like since I’ve just been left to get through the past few weeks by myself that I have now decided it’s best just to keep everything close to my chest, but like I say, we’ll see how things go during the appointment tomorrow.

Time to go and walk the dogs before bed. Hope you’ve all had a nice weekend.

23:17 – An emotional rollercoaster today

1 Jan

Today has passed at a snail pace. Every time I thought another couple of hours must have passed I would check the clock and it would really only be about half an hour that had passed. The only times that time has moved so slowly have been when I’ve been in hospital.

My thoughts began to spin out of control mid afternoon. I became very irritable and my best friend kept phoning and I kept hitting the phone onto silent, I just couldn’t answer it. I’m not sure why, I think it was because I was sure she would know there was something wrong and then start insisting I go out and talk to her or play with the kids to distract myself.

And you know what was crazy? Right there in that moment I didn’t want to be distracted, I wanted to feel every single horrible emotion, I wanted to feel them one by one and see how much damage it would do to actually sit and listen to everything in my head rather than try and escape it. So I sat and cried. I paced the room. I flicked through TV programmes. I took the dogs several short walks. I washed some clothes. I hoovered. I smoked a ridiculous amount of cigarettes.

I tried to make food but realised the few items in my fridge had gone out of date yesterday so I called for some Chinese food as it was the only place open. Started eating it then thought I was going to be sick with each big wave of anxiety that overcame me. That reminds me, a psychologist I saw once upon a time once said to me the best thing you can do is start eating something when you feel anxiety coming on because one of the very first things that happens physiologically when we become anxious is our mouth’s become dry so if you start to eat something (even some chewing gum just to produce saliva) somehow tricked your body into a state of confusion: you can’t be relaxed enough to eat and in fight or flight panic mode, so theoretically you should start to calm down (or give into the anxiety and dump the plate of food like I did). I don’t know if it works or if it’s just some old wives tale, I do know when I’m very anxious the last thing on my mind is sitting eating a nice plate of food when my stomach is churning, when I’m having hot flushes and my heart is palpitating like crazy and I have the overwhelming urge to escape.

So who knows… maybe it does work…

This state of anxiety and irritability/restlessness carried on through to the early evening despite me taking some Diazepam to try and calm down a bit. By this point the repetitive voice in my head was “cut”… followed by the obligatory giggle. It made me feel really quite distressed because I couldn’t make it stop and when it won’t stop I start panicking that it’s not “my voice” or “my thought” it’s one that’s out of my control again. I decided to not even fight it and went to my little hiding place and took out two brand new stanley knife/box cutter blades. I sat pushing the flat side of the metal against various parts of my arms and legs, then I turned the blade on it’s side and ran it across my skin (but without applying any pressure at all) just to get the memories to rush into my head of how it feels when I do push down deep and actually cut. And the more time the blades spent in my hands the more the anxiety began to build up thinking about having to go to A&E if I allowed myself to cut to the my usual level.

I put the blades back and guess what? I cried again. AGAIN. I lay here on the sofa a snotty sobbing mess holding a cushion tightly against me then sat up and just rocked myself until all the intense emotions seemed like they were finally leaving.

So it has been a pretty rotten day but one that is now almost over. It’s about 10.45pm just now and I’ve taken my medication and night time Diazepam. I’ve just been out giving the dogs their last walk of the night and I am now sitting here feeling totally drained. My head hurts from all the crying, my eyes are puffy from all the crying and my mind is emotionally shattered from all the crying.

The only person I have spoken to all day was the delivery driver who dropped my Chinese food off and that was just to mutter the words “thank you”.

I don’t know what stopped me from cutting today, mostly it was the complete state of fear I seem to be experiencing whenever I think of anything hospital related at the moment, but also because I got a text message from my Mum saying that my Aunt and Uncle and Grandma are all coming to visit tomorrow and asking me if I’d like to join them for dinner. I eventually text back saying yes I would go. Some time ago I wrote a post saying that my Aunt had sadly been diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer, well that is her just finished 6 months (I think?) of Chemotherapy as well as having had surgery to do a complete hysterectomy and removal of various lymph nodes and things that are also in that area. And due to the fucking agoraphobia and not being able to get to Big Scary City where my Aunt lives this is actually going to be the first time I will have seen her since her diagnosis. So if she can have gone through all of that and feel well enough to travel the couple of hours to my parents house for the night then I’m sure I can battle my head demons for a couple of hours and try to enjoy a meal with them. Plus it’s been ages since I last saw my little Grandma and I do miss her a lot. And she’s getting old now, I think she’s about 88 bless her.

So, as I was saying, getting that message to say they were coming was another thing that seemed to stop me from cutting. Even though the wound would have been somewhere they would never have seen, this is the first year for quite a while where I’m actually going to have something that I can talk about during dinner. And I didn’t want to be sitting there with a sore arm or leg knowing that there were a load of stitches just under my clothes. One advantage of doing this University course is that it gives people something to talk to me about and takes the attention away from my mental health. Every time I have to see people that I haven’t seen in a while I always get asked what I’m doing with my life and this time I’ll be able to tell them about my course and what I’ve been learning and where I hope it will lead. Even if the voice in my head is laughing at every sentence that comes out my mouth and starts mocking me I am determined I will get through one meal and actually have my family thinking I’m not a completely lost cause after all. I want them to finally hear about something positive in my life and not be like “oh she’s STILL not well” even if I don’t entirely have much belief in myself about the course, I still want to be able to say the words that I’m doing something with my life.

The only bit I’m not looking forward to is hearing about all of my cousin’s wedding plans or all the little stories about her little toddler. Baby type talk is a big trigger. The wedding that is too far away for me to go to because of the stupid agoraphobia but one that every single member of our families will be at, apart from me. That topic of conversation is also likely to be one that would make me feel quite anxious and upset.

OK I think it’s time for bed now. Please let tomorrow be a better day and run smoothly with no embarrassing anxiety attacks or similar mentalisms. I just want to be able to cope for a couple of hours, take part in their conversation, enjoy a meal with them and then come home again.

Simple as that.

(Nothing is ever simple, I should know that by now)

Goodnight folks x

20:18 – New Year’s Eve: All Alone & Extremely Low

31 Dec

It’s New Year’s Eve again, the last day of another long and challenging year, one which started on a bad note in January and is ending on a bad note as well. I have a feeling this may turn into a long ramble, I’ve got a lot of things to say in my last blog post of 2012.

So usually we go out on New Year’s Eve but this year my best friend is just going to a house party at another friend’s house (to which I was invited but politely declined) and so I am all on my own. It doesn’t have to be this way, I have just been on Facebook and had a couple of people ask me if I was going out tonight, if I really wanted to I could text another girl I’m friendly with and make arrangements to go out with her… but I know I will end up staying in all alone all night. Miserable and depressed. Still struggling to come to terms with the stupidity I referred to in my last post (and no, I still can’t write about it either)…

This might be a silly thing to say but I feel really let down by the CMHT (Community Mental Health Team) – they knew that Christmas was one of the hardest days of the year for me to get through, new CPN had said we would have an appointment on Christmas Eve and then a following one New Year’s Eve (today) so I had support right before what can be very triggering days for me. But we didn’t even get the appointment the week before Christmas Eve because I got a phone call to say new CPN was off sick but someone would be in touch. That was on the Monday and by the Friday nobody had got in touch. Christmas eve came and went with no appointment… no support. Then I got a letter on Saturday morning from new CPN offering me a next appointment with her on the 7th of January. So that is going to be exactly 4 weeks since I last had any support when I next see her. And the reason I said this all may sound silly is because obviously if I need help I have to ask for it, but new CPN knew, she fucking knew how much I struggle to cope at this time of year and whilst she couldn’t avoid being ill she was obviously back in the CMHT building at some point to type up the letter for the appointment for the 7th of Jan. So when she was writing that letter she knew I was sitting with no support, would it have been that much trouble to have maybe given me a little phone call and just told me she was back and sending me a new appointment out and maybe have asked if I was coping OK. But like I say… I guess if I want to try and get any sort of support I am supposed to phone and tell them so it must be silly that I’m sitting here feeling forgotten about and completely alone with my string of crazy thoughts.

Tomorrow (New Year’s Day) I will again be alone all day. My Mum is working late, my best friend is going to her parents for the day, so it will just be me, myself and I, probably sitting here feeling equally as alone in 24 hours time as what I do right now. It would appear that this makes me feel rather sad as I’m struggling to see out of the little pool of tears that are gathering up in my eyes.

Tomorrow a new year begins where I am still in the mindset of wanting to hurt myself, where every day I still feel like I’m stuck in this pressure cooker and with each day that passes where I don’t act on the thoughts I don’t feel proud of myself or like I have achieved anything… Instead I know that when that time comes where the lid blows off the pressure cooker it is going to result in some real damage to myself. I am so scared of that moment coming because I will be completely out of control and yet at the same time I wish it would just hurry up and hit me, make me do it and make it be over with.

My best friend asked me a couple of days ago if I was proud of myself for not “being in that place” of self harming and hospital admissions for so long. I couldn’t explain to her that she couldn’t be more wrong, I might not have acted on the thoughts, but the walls around me are crumbling and starting to fall and the more they fall the more exposed and alone I am as I hide behind them. I hate to say it and for a number of months now I’ve tried to avoid saying it, but I am well and truly in the the throes of Bipolar depression right now. And I feel exhausted from the minute I open my eyes to the minute I go to sleep, the smallest of tasks seem enormous, nothing feels as though it really has a point to it. I am about to enter a new year in pretty much the same place I was a year ago I’m just doing much much better at hiding it from people. I feel as though I can’t admit how low my mood is when people (my parents) have gone out of their way to try and make my flat look like a home again and this just proves how much of a bad person I am because they did all that for me and the whole time when they genuinely believed I was happier it was all fake smiles deep down. They think I’m coping better and after all they have done for me it’s my job to make sure they continue to think that.

If I’m honest with myself this episode of depression really kicked off just before my birthday, so around mid October. It’s been slowly getting worse and worse as the weeks have gone by. That is the really horrible part about mood disorders and similar conditions, the length of the depressive (or manic) episodes seem to go on forever. If I look at my calender it tells me I’ve been in this current depressive episode for about ten or eleven weeks now, almost three months of feeling like shit every time I wake up and realise I’m still here. And usually when a couple of months have passed of feeling so low a “crisis” would have happened by now. I’ve experienced every single one of my early warning signs as detailed in my crisis plan and yet somehow I’ve avoided the crisis being seen by other people (mainly by hiding away as much as possible). It’s like a silent crisis that is killing me on the inside, I know it’s there but nobody else does and what really worries me now is that if there is no admission from me that things are very bad or no actions by me to show things are really bad then the actual crisis part will go by unnoticed… and that means entering that place again that is past the point of a “crisis” and a whole new level of despair that is a truly terrifying place to experience.

Just like last ‘new year’ and the one before that and before that I enter a new year still mental, still single, still fat and disgusting and deserving of badness. I enter another year and know it’s a matter of weeks until my little angel’s 6th anniversary in Heaven. They said it got “easier with time”… they really need to think of a more honest expression because that one is a massive lie. It hurts more and more with every day, every week, every month and every year that passes.

What is it that keeps us going when inside our heads we are hearing (for the millionth time) that this is the way life is always going to be, when something in our mind is shouting at us that nothing is ever going to change, that this is the future and this is the place we are going to be stuck in forever? What keeps us going? And even if we act on it and make an attempt to end our lives, many of us get help (even if it really is at the very last second)… something inside us gets scared – for me it is usually the fear of what the process of death will actually be like, the fear of the unknown – and the sad reality for me and I’m sure for many others is that even though every day of being alive hurts like hell it is a hell we have become so overly familiar with that we almost know it inside out. Plus it is a hell that people around us generally witness and as a result of that they try and offer us messages of hope, promises that things won’t always be this way, anything they can say to make us hang on for another day (week, month, year). And so, with each “crisis” I have had, people have become aware of it and let me break down into little bits and then they help me put the bits back together again and give me a final push back onto my feet until the next crisis happens.

But ultimately what happens is you end up feeling as though you are living for those people who say they have “faith in you” who “believe in you” who “promise” that “things are going to get better” that maybe just trying “one more medication” or “a different type of therapy” will finally give me permanent freedom from all of this. And right now, I very much feel as though I’m living for others, I know I have passed the point of believing there is any point in living for me (ungrateful stupid bitch that I am), I don’t even know if you could class this as ‘living’… it feels much more like I’m just functioning on some sort of auto-pilot and trapped in my own never ending version of Groundhog Day.

The thing is that when I have experienced extreme low’s before I have acted upon them a few times. I know what will happen now if I shovel a few handfuls of tablets down my throat just to ‘make it all stop’ and I know what will happen if I take enough tablets to kill me. And I remember how terrifying it was in that moment where I wanted my life to be over so very badly, where I could not handle another day of being alive, where I completely lost control and swallowed a ridiculous number of tablets. And I remember that moment soon after where I felt extremely physically unwell, very dizzy, nauseas, holding onto the walls to keep me upright and just knowing that if I let myself lay down and close my eyes then there would be a very good chance I wouldn’t wake back up. And that actually scared the hell out of me that time as I frantically hit 999 and begged for an ambulance and cried to the operator that I was getting dizzier and dizzier but couldn’t sit down because I knew that would be it, game over. So I slumped against the wall trying to stay with the woman on the phone, praying that the main door buzzer would start beeping any second so I could let them in and then stop fighting and just let my body do what it had to do. Pretty much everything from then through to the next day passed in a blur but I will never ever forget that moment of lying in A&E and hearing the male nurse shouting that my blood pressure was crashing, hearing the numbers and thinking ‘I might actually die here’ and suddenly being terrified that they wouldn’t be able to save me because it’s such a small hospital here. I truly truly thought that night was going to be my last, when you hear nurses and doctors all panicking and losing their cool around you it is a very scary experience.

So what is the point to all this rambling? I think it was my own way of trying to make sense of why I’m still here. My way of frantically trying to remind myself that there is at least one place that’s scarier than here and that’s lying in A&E having knuckles pressed hard against your collar bone as they shout at you to open your eyes and you actually can’t or when you hear them talking about needing a helicopter to get me to the main hospital asap or hearing the numbers of your blood pressure and knowing those numbers are way too low… knowing that you are now totally dependent on these people saving your life, that very same life that you so desperately wanted to end.

Having bipolar disorder has taken me to some crazy places within my own mind. The mood cycles and their unpredictability of when they will come and how long they will last for are crippling at times, but after the disaster has always come a little hint of stability if even only for a couple of weeks before a new ‘episode’ starts and you go through the whole cycle again. This time I genuinely am trying to avert disaster and find absolutely anything at all to cling onto, anything that will help this to pass and allow me to feel like I’m coping for a little while longer. Because as scary as this is the thought of lying back in that A&E department relying on people to save you or waking up to find myself in the psychiatric hospital again or even just the feeling of being a little bit judged by turning up needing sewn back together after cutting too deeply are all even more scary tonight than just sticking with the familiarity of this current episode, my ongoing version of mental hell.

Post 700 – Happy Christmas to you all!

25 Dec

This is my 700th blog post (wow that’s a lot of ramblings!), so what better than to use it to wish you all a happy Christmas 🙂

Today has been a mix of emotions for me, I woke up at 8am and went through waves of anxiety and panic through until 2pm when I finally decided to put myself into a shower. I put some nice clothes on, straightened my hair, even put some make up on then got all my presents and the dogs and went to my parents for 4pm.

I took some Diazepam in the morning but they were wearing off by this point. Thankfully I always have a spare strip in my bag so after taking another couple on arrival at my parents house I began to calm down a little again and enjoy the giving and receiving of presents. I’ve already had more than enough from them (a new jacket a few weeks ago and all the help with my new flooring and helping me get my flat looking like a home again) so I really wasn’t expecting anything else! But I got some new pyjamas (fleecey ones that are sooo warm and snug!) and some chocolates. My brother got me a beautiful silver bracelet with angel wings on it 🙂 His girlfriend got me a hand made purple cushion to sit on my bed with a little felt dog on it that’s so cute! And the dogs were spoiled rotten, I have enough treats in the cupboard to last them about a month!

My Mum loved her little Radley bag and her perfume that I got her. My Dad got aftershave and chocolates. My brother just wanted cash and I got his girlfriend a toy Husky dog (she loves them!) and it’s so adorable, she loved it! I also got her a little set of lipglosses in her favourite colours and she seemed really happy with them so the presents giving and receiving bit was nice and was probably the only part of the day where I felt genuinely calm for a little while.

We had a quiet but lovely Christmas dinner, pulled a cracker each, wore our paper hats and had a glass of champagne. Even the dogs each got a bowl of turkey and roast potatoes (told you they get spoiled!) But after a couple of hours the anxiety was back again and I excused myself while I went outside for a cigarette and popped out another couple of Diazepam. But the thoughts kept telling me to leave and by 7.30pm I couldn’t relax at all and was starting to feel paranoid that people were noticing so I just said I was tired out and wanted to come home and snuggle up in my new pj’s and watch some TV. I said my goodbye’s and came home and got curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine. I feel less anxious now I’m back home and I know that the big build up to Christmas day is now all over and done with for another year.

So yeah I’m finally beginning to relax a little, I’m so glad the day is nearly over with. Now just to get through New Year when all my head can think about is the complete negativity of it all: entering yet another new year where my head is still a mess, where I’m still not particularly stable, when I’m still on medication, when I’m still single. The thought of another year like this one or the one before or the one before that just makes me want to give up on everything and say enough is enough.

I want to keep on living but I don’t want to keep on fighting. It gets so tiring. I went to the cemetery just for ten minutes after leaving my parents house tonight. It was so dark but I couldn’t come home knowing I hadn’t visited my angel, I got so choked up and could barely say ‘happy christmas little man’ through the tears.

I just need to get myself through tonight. Tomorrow is a new day. Next week is a new week. One day at a time. Baby steps.

Happy Christmas everyone, I hope your day’s have all passed gently and maybe even with some smiles or laughs along the way. I’ll end my 700th post with my joke from my cracker: ‘Where do you send a sick elf? …. To the Elf Centre!’ I’m sure you’re laughing as much as I was *rolls eyes*!

* cheers everyone *

xxx

18:25 – ‘Early warning signs’

17 Nov

Things really aren’t good at the moment. I remain behind with my uni work, completely unable to focus on it or concentrate. As soon as I open a textbook page to start reading my head starts thinking about everything else that I’ve messed up. The diet that started off so well, the start of the weight loss and then gaining it all back again. Not going to the gym for a couple of weeks now. Missed my first two appointments with new CPN, she left me a voicemail after missing her again yesterday asking me to phone her before she sends out another appointment but I just can’t see the point.

I feel very low. Very depressed and very unable to do anything. My days consist of nothing. Well nothing apart from my racing thoughts and the thoughts are so fast and strong that I just can’t do any one single thing. Those hopes and goals I had that by Christmas I would be a dress size smaller and would have completed my first module exam and they both seem like they are impossible to achieve now. I have three weeks to write a long detailed essay and complete module #1. Then Christmas break and then two more modules between January and June. Then Summer break then back to it all in August/September time.

To get an honours degree you need to complete 6 modules for each year, so 24 modules in total and a dissertation and that would take you 4 years to achieve. I’m doing it part time, 3 modules a year so it’s going to take me 8 years to achieve. By the end of my first year I’m only really six months in, will still have 21 modules and seven years to go. It’s such a long time. I don’t know that I have the belief in myself that I can do this. Only 11 weeks in and already so behind with everything. We are just starting week 11’s work tomorrow and I’m only on week 9. I just can’t seem to do it, do anything in fact at the moment.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I should be opening one of my textbooks and reading and taking notes. I should be blasting my way as fast as possible through week 9 and 10’s work and getting myself up to date. If I get any further behind I’m not sure if it will actually be possible to catch up. And I have had all week, every day as full days to be doing this work, I have no one to blame but myself. I haven’t even been attending appointments so it’s not like I’ve been in and out with having to go to them. I have seen my best friend once in the past couple of weeks and it was for no time at all. I don’t think I’ve seen my parents since my birthday at the end of October so I said I would go there for dinner tomorrow.

Everything just feels like it’s slipping away and I can’t catch it. I need to get back on course for uni work, I must not fail this exam, if I do then that is going to knock my last tiniest bit of confidence that I have left in myself… cannot let that happen… Best friend commented how proud she was of me for not being admitted to hospital yet this year as it usually starts around my birthday when everything goes downhill then finally starts to perk back up around March/April time. And it is all going downhill but I will not be hospitalised this year, I’m just going to have to deal with it all… I don’t know how yet but there must be a way…

Now the sensible thing to do would be to say to myself that I am going to do an hour or two of studying tonight and then the same tomorrow afternoon but I just know it won’t happen. Last night I just lay for hours staring at the ceiling, not even watching TV or listening to music… just lying here and staring. That’s all I seem to do.

I’m still no further forward with my housing transfer request either, I submitted a new form with more detailed answers a few weeks ago and heard back from them saying I still had the same low amount of points so that was quite disheartening… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape this flat, this sofa sleeping situation, the cold sheets of mdf that currently act as flooring.

I’m back to that place again where I want to give up. This same place I always arrive at over these “risky months” where I just can’t see the light or the future in anything and start to get sucked right into the crazy world, the fucked up thoughts, the bad behaviours and reaching that breaking point yet again. Can I stop this from happening? I guess that remains to be seen. I still haven’t self harmed, I’m still resisting the urge, but this now scares me as I have held it in for that long that I know if the time comes where I do it – and do it with my head being in a crazy place – then the result is going to be a bad injury.

I’m sorry, I’m rambling and full of some sort of self pity, feeling sorry for myself, I need to get a fucking grip and turn things back around to the way they were at least semi productive (even if not particularly happy) a couple of months ago.

In my crisis plan which I revised for new CPN a couple of weeks ago (but haven’t gone to see her since) – in my “warning signs” section it says –

  • anxiety, panicking and worrying about things
  • lose interest in the future/have bad thoughts about the future
  • lose concentration, focus and motivation
  • not able to sleep properly
  • feeling very irritable
  • self isolating/don’t want to see anyone
  • ignore phone calls/texts
  • everything feels very negative
  • don’t attend appointments
  • self harm, suicidal thoughts and racing thoughts occur

Looks like I could put a tick next to every single one of them right now.

What do I need to do differently if I encounter these situations?

  • contact someone and share how I’m feeling rather than trying to cope alone and self isolating
  • try to speak to someone before acting upon thoughts that lead to self harming or other dangerous behaviours
  • try to do something that makes me happy and contented – try to calm down and diffuse the situation in my head

I don’t think I will see anyone tonight but perhaps I could make a call and get some things off my chest. I don’t know I guess I’ll see how tonight goes. I know I will probably not be honest with my parents tomorrow over dinner, I’ll probably admit to being a little bit behind with stuff and admit to that stressing me out but I doubt I will tell them the full truth about being two weeks behind, not attending my appointments, not going to the gym, not going out the house apart from when it’s dark in the late afternoon, evening, during the night, early in the morning. But then they will probably find out about not attending appointments when they ask how I’m getting on with new CPN and I either need to lie and say fine, or tell the truth that I’ve only seen her once then missed the second and third appointment.

And when one truth comes out then a second one is usually close behind until I realise I’m back there again… Or should that be back ‘here’ again…