Tag Archives: feeling low

19:57 – Just, why?

17 Dec

** Trigger warning for talk of self harm **

Today has not been a good day at all. It started off with a battle with royal mail as I have paid to have my mail redirected for 3 months to give me enough time to work my way through all the companies I have dealings with to change my address with them. For some reason when you enter my old postcode into any address checking system on a computer it lists the flats as flat 1 to flat 12. But that isn’t how they are labeled on the doors of the flats, instead it runs like flat 0/1, 0/2, 1/1, 1/2 etc. So even after taking ID into the post office last week to prove my address does exist and asking them to enter the address manually I still got a letter from royal mail this morning with the wrong address details. Argh! So I phone them and they say they can’t override it on the system nor can the guy’s supervisor. Frustrating? Very!

So in the end I went into my local sorting office and explained it all to them and they think they have sorted it out now but can’t promise I won’t miss the odd bit of mail here and there. . . Most annoying when I’ve paid for it to be done!

That was the point where I should have known it was going to be a bad day. I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before but a couple of months ago my parents agreed to take out a bank loan for me and bought me a new car. It’s not brand new or anything but I have to admit I do love it, even though it’s going to take me 3 years to pay off. I haven’t even driven it that much because I’m very aware these days of not getting behind the wheel if I know I’m not in a good frame of mind but it has helped a lot with getting to a couple of new places that the agoraphobia has previously prevented me to because I trust the car to keep me safe. So today around lunchtime I decided to head out early, I had an appointment with lovely support worker at 3 so I left around 2pm so that I could get her a xmas card and some bits from the shops. But then all of a sudden I seemed to go into this weird autopilot mode and found myself standing in a paint and decorating shop. My mouth was moving and sound was coming out, I heard myself asking for a pack of the strongest stanley knife blades they had. Then I went to the pharmacy and bought some bandages yet still really didn’t know why I was doing it.

I went back to the car park and sat thinking for a little while trying to make sense of my actions. The only conclusion that I could come to was that I needed them as a safety blanket, like even though I want this new house to have all these good memories in it and to be this blank canvas, now that all of the stress of having to hold it together over the past few weeks has gone I can finally let all my crazy mixed up emotions out. I sat and smoked a cigarette and tried to get my head together, felt calmer, drove along in the direction of my appointment then realised I’d forgotten to get something at the shops. I spotted a space and slowly reversed into it but there was a stupid metal bollard in my blind spot and I reversed right into it. Heard a bit of a thud and stopped immediately, got out the car and there was glass everywhere 😦 My whole back light unit where the brake light and reverse light and an indicator are were smashed to pieces and a deep scratch on the bumper. As everyone stood and stared at me I fought back the tears and drove to the garage, all the way believing that this was my punishment for buying the blades to self harm with.

At the garage I was told the damage was too bad for them to allow me to drive it and I had to leave it there. They are going to try and get it back to me by the end of the week. Now I don’t know whether to make an insurance claim and have my premiums go up or somehow find the money to pay it myself. For the parts and labour it’s going to be around £200 so I think I’m just going to pay it although it’s going to take a while to save that much up 😦 I could really have done without this especially so close to xmas even though I think it’s xmas I’m dreading so much.

The only good part of my day was seeing lovely support worker and getting a good long chat with her as I haven’t seen her in a while. I told her about buying the blades and said I knew I would act on the urges I just didn’t know when. She tried to talk to me about how bad I always feel in the aftermath of self harming but in the end just asked me to try and be careful when I do it. I don’t know when it will happen, maybe it’ll be tonight or maybe not til next week or even longer than that…

All I know is that the urges to do it and do it bad have been very strong over these past few weeks but I couldn’t let myself give in to them when I had so much else going on and now. . . well now it feels like all that has gone and I can finally give in to them. Part of me wants to go and run a hot bath and do it there, watch all of the water turn red before pulling the plug and seeing it all disappear. Part of me wants to leave them at the back of the drawer where I’ve hidden them and try to keep plodding on until things REALLY get too much. . . cos they will, I know that much. I sit here just now looking at the mess of my arms and legs from previous self harming, so many scars I can’t even count them. One part of my head says don’t add to the mess, the other part of my head tells me “do it and do it fucking bad like you deserve”.

So yeah. . .

Shit day? Yep.

Danger to myself? Possibly.

Will it go further than cutting? Who fucking knows. . .

01:15 – A temporary safety plan

26 Sep

Today I have tried my hardest to start being honest with people.

Best friend text me out of the blue last night asking how I was. I contemplated sending the “fine thanks” reply but decided that no, I would tell the truth, well mostly the truth. I text back and told her I was lonely, that I felt like I had no friends and that my mood was very low and I’m finding myself feeling triggered by the smallest of things. To my surprise she text back straight away and said she was going to come and see me in the morning and true to her word, at 11am this morning she phoned to say she was on her way.

The first thing she asked me was why I was bandaged up, had I been self harming? This was the only lie that I told her. I stuck to my story that I have told A&E and also told my Mum. But all the other stuff I was honest about. I told her I was feeling really low but that there was no one specific thing making me feel this way. I don’t know why I couldn’t be honest about all of the cutting I have been doing recently, usually I can be pretty straight to the point with her. I guess maybe I didn’t want to see the disappointment in her face, as she thinks I haven’t done it since April. That’s probably the reason why I have lied about it this time round, just to avoid dealing with that sad look in people’s faces. I told best friend I was finding it hard being on my own all of the time and that I missed her. I also never see the male friend that I used to spend a lot of time with but that is mainly because the last time we had a proper conversation a few weeks ago he asked me if we could be more than friends – of course I said no. I came up with some shit about just not wanting to be in a relationship with anyone – you know – the sort of thing you say to try and make them not take it personally. Blaming my mental health and saying I would be too much of a burden on someone right now. To a point that is true but I wouldn’t ever be more than friends with him anyway purely because there is absolutely no physical attraction there.

Anyways… back to today. After we’d sat and chatted for about an hour I realised best friend hadn’t just been too busy with her boyfriend and kids, she’s actually had some stuff going on as well that she’s been quite worried about. She had a heart murmur as a baby but it’s never really affected her, however she became quite unwell at the weekend and had to go to hospital where they found something quite abnormal on her ECG and the doctor suspects one of the valves in her heart isn’t letting oxygen in properly or something to that effect. So she is being referred to the cardiologist and is feeling quite worried about that. I then felt a bit stupid and selfish that I thought she was just too loved up to remember to text me but she did say she shouldn’t have left me for weeks with not even a text to say hello. We decided to go for a coffee before I had to go to my appointment at 2pm and I felt slightly better for spending a couple of hours with her and getting out of the house.

I then went to my appointment with my support worker from rape crisis. This is where I was properly honest. I told her about all of the self harming. I told her I’d even been having thoughts again about not wanting to be here any more. I told her about how lonely I feel. I told her about abuser cousin’s daughter having the baby. I told her about all the things that have been triggering me. I told her I wasn’t sure how safe I felt at the moment especially with my parents being away on holiday. I told her about not going to see CPN#2 yesterday and all my reasons why I find myself avoiding more and more appointments. Basically I got everything off my chest. I was talking slowly, every word felt like it was draining me but I got it all out in the end. She asked me what we could do to try and keep me safe. I told her I really didn’t know. I do know that I definitely do not want to even consider hospital, it is not an option. I don’t know that I feel suicidal as such however I did admit to having a cupboard absolutely full to the brim of a variety of medication. Some prescribed stuff and some stuff I’ve bought. I have no idea how many tablets are in there but it’s easily into the hundreds. So after a long chat I managed to identify that I am relatively low risk when it comes to trying to kill myself or taking an overdose even though I have the means to do so. However I could recognise that I am at a high risk of self harming to quite severe levels. This is when lovely support worker said we should think of a ‘temporary safety plan’.

I agreed that if I found myself in a situation where I was beginning to self harm and it was possible that it might spiral out of control then I would do my best to stop for a moment and phone/text or email her. I don’t know how realistic that is going to be should it happen… once I’m in that self harming ‘zone’ it’s very hard to stop and think, I’m too determined just to bleed out all of my pain. She said I should try and make contact with her when I’m at the ‘crazy-head-full-of-self-harm-urges’ stage rather than afterwards when the damage has already been done but that truly is easier said than done. But I will at least try. If she’s being good enough to make a point of being there for me then I should try and make use of that support.

After I left my appointment I decided to try and face A&E to get my stitches removed. As usual the two nurses on shift were nurses that I knew. I made a point of saying this hadn’t been a self harm wound and she gave me a bit of a strange look for a second. Whatever she had read from my notes appeared to say differently so clearly the doctor who put the stitches in didn’t believe my lie or at least expressed some sort of doubt about the story I gave him. She was nice enough though, removed the stitches, made some general chit chat, asked what I’d been doing with myself today so I decided fuck it, I’ll be honest with her. So whilst I stuck to the story of that particular wound not being a self harm one, I also told her I’m not finding my appointments with my CPN helpful at all and haven’t really been going to them. She suggested I mention this to my GP when I next see her to see if there is a way that I could maybe see a different CPN but I don’t know if that would even be possible due to the small amount of staff there are in the mental health team here. Plus it would mean CPN#2 finding out my feelings on how unhelpful I find her.

I also told the A&E nurse that I was experiencing a lot of urges to self harm at the moment. I don’t know if this was partly because I thought that if I told her then if I do end up self harming badly again it won’t come as too much of a surprise to them. Or maybe I just needed to be honest and stop lying. I think it was a mix of trying to reach out for some help and just wanting to tell the truth.

So all in all today wasn’t such a bad day. I talked about a lot of depressing stuff and from all that talking I managed to recognise that I don’t feel particularly safe at the moment and that my self harming behaviours are starting to get pretty bad again. But on the flip side I don’t feel as though I’ve just been left on my own to deal with it all. Even if I don’t make contact with my support worker before our appointment next week at least I know that she is there at the end of the phone or email should I need it. For now there is a temporary safety plan in place.

I am planning on spending some time at the cemetery tomorrow as the new bits and bobs for my little boy’s headstone arrived today. Usually I find it very peaceful to sit up there for a while and talk to him, admittedly I usually have a bit of a cry as well but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. I will post a photo next time I write a post of his stone looking all pretty again.

There was just one last thing I wanted to ask you all before I log off (well ask my female readers!) – I got the routine letter through today saying it is time for my three yearly smear test. The actual test itself isn’t the problem. The problem is that obviously you have to remove your bottom half and my legs are a horrendous mess of deep dark scars and the scars are all over them – calf area, front of legs, thighs, all completely covered. For many many years I only ever self harmed on my arms or stomach and it’s only really been in the past few years that I started on my legs. Most of it was done in times where I was really unwell but this is going to be the first time where I will need to expose the damage. There is absolutely no hiding it. I could probably be brave enough to explain to the nurse about my self harming problem or maybe I could ask lovely GP to explain it to her. But I was just wondering really if any other ladies have had this problem and how you managed to deal with it? After my first ever smear at 20/21 coming back abnormal and needing a fair bit of treatment done I never miss them now, I know how important they are. But the idea of exposing all the damage to a stranger is starting to freak me out a bit, I have to admit.

Right I think it’s bed time now. I can feel my medication cocktail kicking in and my eyes getting heavy. I haven’t self harmed today despite the urges being there, I hope I can continue in the same way tomorrow although I do know that going up to the cemetery for a while will most likely cause me some upset. Hopefully I can be strong enough to deal with the emotions in a healthier way.

Goodnight folks.

16:54 – In a pretty crappy place right now

24 Sep

So yeah, I spent the weekend getting drunk by myself. Sitting here pouring glass after glass of wine and drinking it at a ridiculous speed. I don’t know what I hoped to achieve by doing that, I guess I was trying to block shit out. However the reality was that I just got more and more depressed, my mood dropped a little further down with every gulp I took. I did a lot of crying which maybe wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe those emotions had to come out of me, but I’m still having emotional outbursts with no warning signs today.

I continued to self harm Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Despite being under the influence I seemed to manage to have some control over it as the cuts are reasonably superficial. I think I just kept reminding myself that if I just pushed down that little bit harder then it would be time to go back off to A&E again and I’m still sticking to my story with them that the stitches I’ve got were as a result of an accident and not self harming.

I am supposed to be going to get my stitches taken out today but I just feel so low and so miserable that I can’t face going out. I don’t suppose an extra day will make much difference, I’ve had times in the past where I just couldn’t face going to A&E and left stitches in a few more days than they were supposed to be in for. I was also supposed to go to an appointment with CPN#2 at 12:30 today – I got up at 9am and forced myself to go in for a shower, got dressed, sat and watched some TV, let the dogs out to do the toilet, then around 11am took my clothes back off and put my pj’s back on. Sat and watched 12:30 come and go, knowing that I should phone and least concoct some excuse for missing yet another appointment but my brain just seemed incapable of thinking so I didn’t attend and didn’t phone to apologise either.

I think I have come to the conclusion that I don’t find that I get any benefit from my appointments with CPN#2. In fact, I have worked with a number of CPN’s over the years and I’ve never really achieved much with any of them. The ones who have been good are the ones that haven’t stuck around for long. Typical really. So now I don’t know what to do – do I phone and leave a message for CPN#2 and make yet another appointment, drag myself along to it, sit there finding it no help whatsoever, make another appointment, repeat the process over and over again? Or do I somehow try to find the strength to be honest with her? I don’t know if I could do it face to face but the thought has crossed my mind that it might be an idea to write her a letter explaining why I’m not finding these sessions useful, therefore I either cancel them or just don’t attend.

My main problem with them is that CPN#2 likes to work in a very structured sort of way. I go in and she takes a sheet of paper that she calls the ‘agenda’ then asks me to pick two or three topics that I’d like to discuss during our session. If I go off at a little bit of a tangent she quickly pulls me straight back on topic by saying “this isn’t on our agenda, please stick to the agenda” which leaves me feeling like I’m being told off for trying to explain something. I don’t know if I’m explaining this very well? It’s like she wants our sessions to be like business meetings – have an agenda with a few bullet points – discuss them very specifically without really allowing any emotions to come into the conversation. Sometimes you need to go off at a little bit of a tangent to explain things better and when someone is sitting tapping their pen against their notebook it is extremely off putting. Then add to that her latest thing of propping her phone up on the middle of the table with the stopwatch app counting the minutes, constantly flashing, distracting me… yeah… it’s just not helpful.

I understand that she wants to use the sessions to get me to cover the basics of Compassion Focused Therapy until such time that I can see the psychologist again to learn it all in more detail, but surely I should be able/allowed to talk about how I’m feeling as well? Like if I had gone today there is just no way I could have told her about the self harming or about how low my mood has been/still is. We have absolutely no bond/no relationship/no therapeutic relationship/nothing. I cannot open up to her because I’m scared to mention anything that isn’t set on her little business agenda. So I end up not going to my appointments, not engaging with the mental health team, sitting and waiting for a letter to appear in my mail one day telling me she has discharged me as I don’t attend and she could be seeing someone else in my place. Part of me wishes she would just do that, but I carry on clinging to this little bit of hope that it won’t be too much longer now until I see the psychologist again and at least I know I can get along with her and work with her.

So here I am hiding indoors again. It’s now week three of my part time uni course and I haven’t even finished week one’s work. I sit and try to read, try to absorb it, try to understand it but it’s like there is an invisible mental block getting in the way and nothing sinks in. So I give up and tell myself I’ll try again tomorrow. But tomorrow comes and goes and I’m no further forward. At the moment there is still a chance I could catch up but for that to happen I need motivation. Right now I have no motivation at all. I just sit here and cry, cut myself a few more times, cry some more, never really getting anywhere. I can’t even go and sit on my (personal) facebook because I just cannot handle all these pregnancy announcements, baby announcements, baby talk in any way shape or form. Of course I know it’s something I can’t hide from forever but right now it’s all just too triggering for me. My mental state feels pretty fragile like the slightest thing will cause it to fall apart.

Although I fully intended to get drunk on Friday night I actually didn’t plan on repeating it on Saturday night. However, I popped up to see my parents to wish them a nice holiday (they left on Sunday morning and get back Monday next week) and just as I was leaving their phone started to ring. I saw on the caller display that it was my Aunt that I have nothing to do with these days (this is my Aunt who was the mother of my older cousin that abused me for years – he’s dead now for any new readers) and as soon as I saw her name flash up on the caller display I knew instantly what she was phoning for. My abuser cousin has a daughter who has been brought up by my Aunt as he couldn’t provide for her due to either being in prison or when he was out of prison he’d go straight back to his life of heroin and crack addiction. The mother of his daughter was also an addict. Despite who her parents were I still just looked at her like a little cousin and we used to be quite close until a couple of years ago when my stupid Aunt told her about the abuse. I had never wanted her to know about it but my Aunt is an alcoholic and doesn’t think about what she is saying half the time. So, the girl was about 14 at this point and of course she reacted to the news in a very angry way. She splattered messages all over my facebook and I made the decision to write her a long email explaining everything. I wrote about it on here and it was quite controversial to say the least – some people commented to say they thought I’d done the right thing – others said she was too young to have been told about it and that I shouldn’t have sent the email. But that’s all in the past now and sadly I haven’t spoken to her since.

My Mum told me several months ago that the girl is now 16 and pregnant. Firstly the fact that yet another person just accidentally got pregnant at the drop of a hat upset me. Secondly I convinced myself that she would have a little boy and name him after her father (as I think there is a bit of childhood idolising of him on her part even though he was never around as a father to her). I knew the baby was due in September and sure enough that was what my Aunt was phoning to tell my Mum. Thankfully she had a little girl. Even though I don’t see her any more or have any contact with her, I think it would have really got to me if she’d named an innocent little baby after the monster my abusing cousin was. But yeah, just hearing about yet another baby started making my head feel all bonkers so on the way back from my parents house I went and bought three bottles of wine and drank the lot over Saturday night and Sunday afternoon.

So that’s where I am at the moment. Alone, lonely, self isolating, unable to study, crying a hell of a lot, cutting myself, missing appointments and generally feeling extremely low. I have an appointment with my rape crisis support worker tomorrow which I’m going to make an effort to go to as she is pretty much the only person that I can just sit and be honest with at the moment. And if I make it to that appointment and get out of the house then maybe I’ll manage to get to A&E as well to have these stitches taken out. As for the rest of today and tonight I have absolutely no idea how they are going to pan out. If my mood stays like this then it looks like it’ll be yet another shitty night to try and get through. Truthfully I don’t feel 100% safe at the moment and I do feel a little bit worried about where this is all heading. But if I can just get through tonight in one piece then maybe tomorrow’s appointment with lovely support worker will help to calm my crazy brain down again.

19:09 – A surprise phone call

18 Apr

Today has actually been quite a busy day for me and I’m feeling pretty shattered after yet another crappy night’s sleep. I met my Mum and my Gran at 12.30 and we went for lunch as my Gran was going back home tonight. It was nice to have spent a bit of time with my Gran this time as I haven’t seen her since Christmas and didn’t get much time to talk to her as all the other family members were around and I was also really struggling with anxiety so didn’t really stay for that long.

However, I painted on the fake smile last night and went for dinner with them and done the same today for lunch. As I was saying my goodbyes my phone started ringing – private number – usually they get ignored… But something made me answer it and I was surprised to hear temporary CPN #2 from last year on the phone. She said she was back working in my area again (probably temporary again but I don’t know for sure yet) and asked me if I would like to meet up with her tomorrow. I’m not sure where the call came from – maybe lovely social worker who hasn’t been able to support me asked her, maybe Mr Psychiatrist contacted the CMHT to find out what was going on, maybe A&E contacted the CMHT, maybe it was just sheer coincidence… but yeah she called to offer me an appointment tomorrow which I agreed to go along to.

After lunch I had to head off to my appointment with lovely support worker from rape crisis and we had a good long session today. We talked about everything we possibly could regarding the self harming on Wednesday… I told her that I had no regrets this time and felt like I could potentially do it again quite easily. We spoke about my appointment with Mr Psychiatrist, about my trip to A&E and then about CPN #2 getting in touch. I have decided that whilst I will go to the appointment at the CMHT tomorrow I will also tell her the truth which is that I haven’t found working with any of the 3 cpn’s I’ve worked with over the past year helpful or beneficial. They don’t have the time to try and help me with graded exposure for the agoraphobia. They don’t care or get in touch if I’ve self harmed and gone to A&E as according to cpn #3 they know it’s a coping mechanism so they don’t need to get involved. They only ever seem to want to talk about “positive” things I could do with my life, they never seem to want to hear about the shit. And there is a lot of shit. And there is not much “positive” so it ends up just frustrating me.

I will ask her tomorrow what involvement she is going to have with me and will tell her that I would rather try and do structured work with the psychologist once she is back. I think that would be more beneficial in the long term if I could really properly learn coping skills for moments of intense anxiety or horrible flashbacks or evil voices. So maybe cpn #2 will just be someone to touch base with once a week or something to let them know I’m still alive. CPN #2 was the nicest out of the 3 cpn’s by far but she was also the one who kept trying to push all the positive things on me like starting the college course so that’s going to be fun tomorrow telling her I’ve fucked that up now. Part of me doesn’t even want to go to the appointment with her, I don’t think she can say anything I haven’t heard before, I don’t think she can offer me help in the times of crisis which is when I need help and well… I don’t want to start “working” with her and bringing up painful emotions if I’m only going to be seeing her for like a month or something. Anyway, I guess I wait and see what she says tomorrow. I must remember to go into A&E at some point whilst I’m at the hospital and have my wound check done.

So overall it was a good and productive session with support worker today but I felt pretty tired by the end of it, I’ve been feeling pretty drained all day from lack of sleep but we also did lots of talking. Then after that appointment I had to take Charlie dog to the vets for a vaccination and a little check up. Everything is fine with him, he is doing well and has put a bit of weight back on as well, he’s now 9.1kg and should be around 10kg so he’s getting there 🙂

After the vets I took the dogs a walk and then had to go to the supermarket. It seemed really noisy and everything sounded weird, like as though it was distorted somehow. I couldn’t concentrate and there were too many people and I started getting all anxious so I just grabbed dog food and then came home.

Mood wise I’m not entirely sure how I feel tonight. My head is noisy, male voice keeps offering “helpful” suggestions on how to next hurt myself. I’m trying to ignore it but quite simply I can’t. I don’t know if I’ll cut again tonight or not, if I do I will have to keep it superficial and not on my legs, I don’t want the A&E nurse tomorrow to see any fresh wounds. I find myself flicking my lighter a lot today…. heating the metal around the top of it then pressing it against my arms. It hurts a lot and yeah it leaves a sore mark for a while but it won’t lead to me needing more stitches and I can hide it easier. I have so many suggestions from male voice and ideas of my own on things I can do that will hurt but not require A&E and I feel as though I’m on a bit of a mission now to tick them all off the list one by one (and to see what other methods apart from cutting and burning give me that feeling of a release).

Before I start getting in to all that shit again I’m going to go and watch some TV. My head is properly pickled at the moment… just bursting full of ideas, thoughts and voices… all bad ones of course. But they seem like good ideas at the time, I guess that’s why we do them… we know we’ll regret it in the long term but when you’re in “that moment” you would pretty much do anything to make all those head crazies just leave you alone. I’m sad in a way that I don’t have any regrets over self harming yesterday but I also know that male voice is right, I haven’t done enough damage yet, I deserve much more pain and head fuckery before I’ll have done enough to make him happy. He’s right, I do deserve to hurt… I just wish he would fuck off with all these violent ideas and images… I am 99% sure I would never act on them if they involved hurting another person but there is that 1% of me that can’t help but wonder if this is all a build up to me totally losing the plot again. This little saying (below) very much reflects how I feel about everything right now… And I hope everything doesn’t keep going downhill but right now I have no idea what way I’m heading and I’m not even sure if I care… 😦

b180403116

23:37 – It’s not going good at all

14 Apr

[Warning – Graphic Descriptions of Self Harm in Post]

It’s just getting worse. Worse and worse. I feel really low and the only thought revolving around my head is to cut myself. I want to make it clear that I am NOT suicidal, I do NOT want to die, I just can’t distract myself from the constant flashes in front of my eyes of me doing something harmful to myself (or other people which is very out of character for me). The constant thoughts are about cutting mostly.

I sent an email to rape crisis support worker tonight and basically sent her the stuff I’ve written on here for the past couple of nights. She knows I write a blog but she isn’t very technical minded so I’m not worried about her coming across my ramblings here.

I have taken too much medication this evening but it was sort of by accident. Well it wasn’t really an accident at all, it was more a case of realising I’d forgotten to take ANY medication today so around 8pm I just took my full day and full night’s tablets in one. I thought maybe a big surge of medication in my system might make everything feel much less fucked up but I just feel a little groggy… This could be a good thing as it might mean I will sleep tonight. It would help a lot if I could get a full 7 or 8 hours uninterrupted sleep.

Back to the self harming. The cutting. Male voice is very prominent and has insulted every single thing I’ve done today. He has a broad Scottish accent and whilst I haven’t seen him I have an idea of what he might look like from how he talks and certain little quirks that he has. I am a bit scared of this next impending self harm episode because he wants me to leave marks that will be even harder to explain, he wants me to draw certain symbols into my flesh with blades, he wants me to cut so deep I can truly see the inside of my body… not just some yellow globule like bits of flesh but proper muscle, bone and tendon. I’m not going to lie, that does actually scare me a little. I am well aware that it doesn’t take that much of a slip of the hand to do permanent irreversible damage but the urges, the orders, the ideas… they are all sucking me in.

I’ve done so well to have only had a couple of slip ups in the past year and I most certainly do not ever want to re-visit the place I was in a few years ago. I’m genuinely terrified of the psych hospital and genuinely scared of how I would react if I was ever faced with that situation again.

Anyway… I’m sorry it’s not been a more cheery post… I did send an email to my support worker at rape crisis earlier and she replied saying all nice and supportive things but male voice just laughed loudly throughout the whole time I was trying to read. He knows he’s going to win and I know he’s going to win. The only plan I can have is to somehow try and very much limit the damage so it’s only one more scar to deal with… if he has it his way I won’t even be able to see the flesh on my limbs he wants that much of my ugliness cut away.

I wonder how many hours/days/weeks it will take before I reach the point of doing ANYTHING to shut him up once and for all.

15:33 – Just a little moan about life

27 Mar

In the last five days since I last posted nothing much has changed.

I still feel miserable, I still want to self harm again, I’m too tired to actually do it though. Also I’m beginning to wish I had just let them put proper sutures in last week, but because I was so anxious and wanted out of the hospital asap I asked them just to use lots of skin closures. And they have closed the wounds quite well but because one of them was pretty deep it is so painful where it is obviously still healing under the actual cut. I’ve never had pain in a self harm wound 8 days after doing it when I’ve had prope stitches in, but I don’t think it’s infected or anything, I think it’s just taking a good bit longer to start healing.

Anyway… what else can I moan about…

My sleeping. It remains completely shit and I am absolutely exhausted.

I still haven’t done any of my course work for this university module, in fact I haven’t even looked at my uni emails in about two weeks now.

So yeah… I just plod on through each day, doing very little, making sure the dogs are fed, walked and happy… other than that I’ve been caring about very little else.

The good news of this week is I have now cleared the remaining £50 that was left on the balance of Charlie dog’s vet bill – so I’ve cleared all the excess and the insurance company paid all the rest of the rather large bill.

Hmm what else? Oh my parents have returned from their holiday now so knowing they are just a phone call away again helps a little bit.

Like I say I’m just too tired to feel any enthusiasm for anything. It’s been weeks of this nonsense now and it’s really starting to get to me. I feel on the edge of tears all the time because I just feel so drained.

Yesterday I met up with best friend and my two little ‘nephews’ which was nice as it had been weeks since I last saw them. We went about an hour away from home (even with a fair few Diazepam the anxiety was still pretty bad on the way there) but by the time we got to our destination and I saw it was nice and quiet I managed to stay relatively calm. The kids are of course a great distraction – every time my head would start going into crazy mode they would start asking for something and I’d be pulled back into the moment. First of all we let the kids burn off some energy in the soft play area for about an hour. They are only 2 and 4 so they loved playing in the ball pool and going up and down all the slides and stuff. After that we went for some lunch and then before heading home the kids wanted to play in the outdoor swing park for a while. It was so cold and the snow was on and off all day but I think it probably did me good to get out of the house for a 3 or 4 hours.

Well it’s almost 3.30pm and I need to go and collect my prescription. Not really got any plans for the next few days – just an appointment with my support worker tomorrow afternoon and that’s about it. Think I might go to the parents on Sunday seeing as it’s Easter and enjoy a nice home cooked meal there. That reminds me, I need to go buy my little ‘nephews’ (best friends kids) an Easter egg each. Also I have no food in the house. I think whether I like it or not I’m going to have to face a supermarket today. Blah… I’m just totally not in the mood to be going outside at all but I need my medication so I guess I don’t really have much choice.

Mood wise things are in the ‘crap’ category. Voices are ‘very vocal’. Thoughts are no longer racing, they are slow… too slow… so slow I can’t connect anything together right…

Sorry for all the moaning… hopefully next time I post will be a happier/more positive rambling… who knows…

00:12 – Impossible

11 Dec

Why it’s called impossible – I can’t stop listening to the UK X Factor winner James Arthur’s song. Didn’t watch X Factor, Impossible isn’t his song, but something about it makes sense. I guess life feels pretty impossible right now.

‘Tell them I was happy,

And my heart is broken,

All my scars are open….’

Should you wish to listen to it whilst reading my ramblings of today here it is:

I woke up this morning and couldn’t remember if my appointment with new CPN was at 1pm or 2pm so thought I better phone the mental health team and find out. To my (pleasant) surprise it was my the social worker whom I was once very close to who answered the phone. We chatted for ten minutes and it was nice to hear her voice but it also made me feel a little bit sad afterwards.

I try not to think about it so much any more because I have accepted now that I am never going to get to work with her again. If I see or speak to her these days it’s more a case of bumping into her in the mental health place. I feel like I can’t ask her for anything any more, not even a chat and sometimes that feels really shit because she was still is the only professional who I’ve ever felt understood me. She totally understood why I hate Christmas so much, she came with me to my little man’s headstone up at the cemetery one time and put flowers down with me. She probably doesn’t remember that because she’s probably dealt with that many crises’ since then that little memories like that are likely to be long forgotten. But at least I can smile looking back on that, even if it also makes me a little sad to know that’s pretty unlikely to ever happen again.

If I think about it all now it just makes me angry. And sad. I still don’t properly understand why they couldn’t just leave me to work with the person I was comfortable with and trusted. I don’t understand why or when or who decided it should be a CPN I work with instead. I felt like I was making progress working with her and I don’t know who decided I’d make better progress with a CPN but I do feel that their decision was a wrong one. I’ve gone from working with someone who I felt like I could tell anything to and who I trusted enough to do graded exposure work with for my agoraphobia, to two temporary CPN’s and now a third but permanent one and I feel like I have achieved nothing by working with them. Besides starting the university course, the second temporary CPN gave me encouragement to apply for it, but mood-wise things have remained pretty unsettled.

Anyway I vowed the last time I wrote about the whole social worker situation that it would be the last time I wrote about it because reading my posts back made me feel a bit pathetic that I was getting so upset over one member of my care team being changed. But you know what, when you work with someone closely over a long period of time you build some form of relationship, you build a trust and that person feels like someone safe to you that you can confide in and be honest with, even when you’re telling them about the brain crazies you feel OK because you just know that they truly aren’t judging you. And when someone comes along one day and says ‘right you’re going to be working with person X from now onwards and not this nice social worker that you’ve built a relationship with any more’ it kinda does feel like a bit like you’re being rejected of a punch in the gut.

Hmm what was that word I started with again… oh yeah… impossible.

Anyway I’m not talking about this any more, I sound like a fucking broken record!

I went to see new CPN at 2pm. I couldn’t seem to express myself very well at all today. I’d start saying something then totally lose my train of thought. Then be sitting there aware that I was talking but with complete mind-blank about what I was saying. In the end we just talked a bit about the uni course, I told her I’d submitted a final assignment but that I was far from happy with it. I think I will pass but probably just scrape a pass and to be honest I’d rather fail and get to rewrite it completely than get a D.

We also talked a little about my appointment last week with Mr Psychiatrist and I told her about his little speech about my ‘negative thought patterns’ which I guess there is some truth in… and how he is still annoying me by asking at the last few appointments I’ve had with him for reasons why I’m feeling depressed. He is a consultant psychiatrist. He has been a psychiatrist for many years. He makes diagnoses and has the power to take all control away from a person and detain them. My point is he is an experienced and I dare say very intelligent man in his field… so why the fuck does he insist on asking someone with a mood disorder (that he diagnosed) what it is that’s going on in their life to be making them depressed? I don’t have one particular reason. There is not one particular thing in my life making me feel this way. Sometimes it’s just the fucking Bipolar Disorder that makes me this way – surely to God he can understand that?!

Again… Impossible…

New CPN agreed about the negative thought patterns and started saying something about mindfulness and being compassionate and I pretty much said straight out that I just can’t even begin to think about being compassionate to myself right now. I want to cut myself, hurt myself, bleed, drain out the bad blood in me, these little scratches are not helping, it needs to be done properly. But then I look at my arms and my legs where bad wounds and stitches have been before and some of the scars really are a pretty horrendous sight. More than anything the main reason I feel I need to do it is because (a) I deserve it and (b) I need the huge rush of release I get from it. The reason I haven’t acted on it properly yet is because I am terrified that if I do it then I’m going to completely lose control and start slipping down that spiral at a ridiculously fast rate. But the racing thoughts, the whispers and giggles racing around my brain make me want to explode at times… I need things to slow down…

My brain… impossible…

I came out of the session with new CPN actually feeling really quite confused for some reason. Conveniently right across the road from the mental health team is a DIY store and even though I knew I still had half a pack of blades in the house I wanted more. I began to head in that direction when my phone started ringing. It was my Dad wanting to know if I’d like him to come and measure the rooms in my flat and go to look at flooring again. He probably called at just the right time and I agreed to head back home. He came down shortly after that and measured up then we went to the carpet shop and I got a couple of cheaper off-cuts for the hallway and bathroom, a gorgeous carpet for the bedroom, wood effect vinyl flooring for the living room and a big shaggy rug. It came to almost £550 (that includes fitting) and Mum is putting it on her credit card for me to pay off bit by bit. So it looks like it might take two days because I’ll need to move all the furniture out one room and into the other and then vice versa but they are coming to definitely fit the first carpet on the 18th and I’ve been assured it will all be done by Christmas.

(Christmas in my bed… sleeping in my bedroom again… impossible?)

They are trying so hard to make me happy and get me safely through these upcoming tough couple of months and it makes me feel a little bit mixed up. I feel like I’m constantly putting on an act when I see them and when I smile it feels so fake and pretend. I don’t want them to worry about me so I’m keeping this bout of head crazies to myself as much as possible. I also feel a bit pathetic that at 31 years old I can’t finance my own ‘home improvements’. I feel thankful that I have such loving parents who are in a position to be able to help me. I feel emotional and sad that at 31 I haven’t achieved anything that I thought I would have achieved by this age. Well I have achieved some of them… they just tore my heart to pieces didn’t turn out as planned…

I really didn’t mean for this to turn into such a self pitying post. Sorry. Anyway that’s my ramblings over with for tonight, that’s been my day, as for tomorrow I have absolutely nothing planned. There is no studying for me to at least attempt, there are no appointments to attend, maybe it will be a day for lying around in my onesie doing nothing apart from over thinking no doubt.

Writing a happy blog post, that’s what’s fucking impossible…

Goodnight folks

19:01 – And it’s all fucked up again

6 Dec

Mood: Shit

Thoughts: Paranoid (I believe a new neighbour has moved in next door, I heard a lot of commotion all day that sounded like someone moving in – who are they?)

Feeling: Anxious and Ill. Have run to toilet at least fifteen times in the past twelve hours thinking I’m going to vomit. Actual Vomiting: Once.

Personal Hygiene: Fail

Studying: Not Completed

Essay Writing: Not Started

Accomplishments Today: None

Times I’ve Thought About Self Harm: 1000000+++

Times I’ve Actually Self Harmed: To Be Confirmed…

What I Should Be Doing Tonight: Writing A Very Important Essay

What I’ll Actually Be Doing Tonight: Failing. At What? At Everything…

 

 

14:09 – To feel the high, you gotta feel the low…

4 Nov

I cannot take these low crappy moods much longer and I am ashamed at what I am going to admit to in this post. I cannot function with such a low level of concentration. I am still behind with my uni work. I am hiding away each day excluding myself from the world and just sitting here doing nothing. I appear to have slipped into the pattern I often fall into when feeling shit, things like realising every time I’m walking the dogs it’s dark. Early morning dark, early evening dark, middle of the night dark… always dark.

I feel so many urges to self harm and until this point have managed to resist. But that too is becoming extremely testing for me and I feel like I am rapidly running out of fight, or should I say running out of care about fighting against it.

I read/heard/saw (I can’t remember which) something about having to feel the low to feel the high… I think it was in a song or something… Anyway… I kept thinking about those words and how I need to start applying them to me, to my life, that right now all I feel is the low, and what I needed to do was go and find the high again. I’m sure it probably happens to anyone with any history of any kind of drugs, whether experimental or an addiction… anyway these people, me, I hear the word high and it’s like my mind automatically seems to conjure up images of those best moments with drugs. Never the hours I spent bending over the toilet vomiting, never those moments of desperation and panic when you can’t get hold of your dealer and don’t know how you’ll get through the next few hours feeling that way, never all the possessions you just sell because you need to pay for what isn’t even a full blown ‘habit’ yet.

Instead I see the fun parts, the chilled parts, the feelings of contentment whilst lying here without a care in the world. And, I am ashamed to say, for the first time in months I wanted those feelings back; those words about feeling the low and feeling the high just went round and round in my head and there I was yesterday afternoon trying desperately to get hold of the one guy I know who can get his hands on just about anything. I finally found a way of getting hold of him and from there managed to get his phone number, then before I knew what I was even writing I had already composed and sent a text asking if he can get me something… anything… that I ‘needed to chill the fuck out could he please help me?’ – he replies asking what I want – I tell him anything that will make me not give a fuck, an opiate would be preferable – he tells me he will see what he can do. A couple of hours later, still sitting in the exact same spot, my phone plays it’s annoying little text sound. I grab the phone and there is a message from him, he can get me ‘gear’ how much do I want? I don’t even take a second to think that I haven’t touched an opiate since January, nor about how rapidly it went from ‘one wrap a day’ to ‘five wraps a day’, or how close I came to a proper addiction. My mind just wouldn’t offer up those thoughts to me and let me carry on writing a text back to him that 2 or 3 wraps would be good.

I leave the house and go to the cash machine. It is out of order. I walk along the street to the next one and it tells me I have insufficient funds in my account. I realise I have brought the wrong bank card. So I go onto my phone banking app to transfer money into the account that I had the card for and whilst doing this I get another text message through, saying he can’t get it tonight and I’d need to wait til tomorrow – I meet him anyway to get some stronger diazepam than those I’m prescribed (just a few) and come home and try to blank everything out. I managed six hours sleep which was pretty good for me.

I woke up this morning to see a text from him asking if I still want to score. I haven’t replied to the text and the thought of taking what is most likely to be heroin again is making me feel sick. I have no desire for it today at all. Instead I have extreme urges to hurt myself (with a blade rather than a drug) and am using everything in my power to just block it all out. I have tried to do some uni work but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I tried to wash the dishes but couldn’t see the point. I was going to have a shower but again, what’s the point? I feel as though I need to hurt, I need to get this low over with and feel some highs again. Not necessarily the illegal type of high but just those feelings of general happiness, the belief that you have the ability to achieve things to come back, routine back into my days, back onto the diet where seeing bits of weight loss was giving me some kind of encouragement to carry on.

I am so ashamed to have even thought about putting that poison back into my body, I am ashamed that I have to think about taking any sort of drug or medication to just feel ‘normal’. But I can’t take much more of the low and I really need to feel the high again. What I would give for a little bit of mania right about now.

19:57 – What the hell is wrong with me?

23 Sep

I cannot stop crying. Like seriously cannot stop. I am shaking and crying and can hardly see what I’m typing because the tears are flowing so fast and hard. Every time I take a breath and try to calm myself down it just starts again. Everything is making me cry, every program I put on the TV, every time I try and play about with my essay for uni, the case study I am doing it on is such a sad story of two little kids aged 2 and 4 and the awful neglect they are experiencing. They aren’t even real kids, they are just made up for the purpose of a case study for the essay but it breaks my heart reading it.

I have X Factor on TV just now and am crying at every single song either because the lyrics have meaning to me or just pure and simply because the person is good at something (singing) and I feel like I have no talent in anything in life. I want to be good at something, I want to feel like a success for once and not a big fat failure. Earlier some program was on set in a maternity ward and watching all the babies being born (which I knew fine would upset me) – god – I was an absolute mess, breaking my heart over not having my little man, breaking my heart because all of those little babies came out screaming and all I could remember was that complete silence as my little one came out sleeping… straight off to the angels.

I feel as though I have accomplished nothing in my 30 years on this planet. All the things I thought I would have achieved by now – I have achieved none of them. I know I am doing this uni course and that is a positive thing but it’s still super early days, I have been at uni twice before in my life and both times dropped out at the end of first year… how do I know this time will be any different?

What if this is all my life is going to be… tears…self harm wounds…battling with suicidal thoughts…stuck in this flat that I hate so much…never being good at anything…remaining overweight…not able to get slim again…not able to have another baby…an earth baby…never being able to trust again therefore never having a relationship again… I know, I know, so much negativity… but that’s the only thoughts going around in my head…and then I’m back in that place again…wanting to hurt…deserving to hurt…maybe that’s the only thing I’m good at… hurting…feeling pain…trying to cry it all out and when that doesn’t work cutting it all out…

I wanted to write a positive post about how I had completed my first essay for uni a week early, how I have written up my meal plan for the next week, how I have thrown out every item of ‘bad’ food in my house in preparation of starting low carbing again. But I just feel crap and I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

Sorry for being so depressing… I thought maybe writing it down would stop the tears…but no, they are still here… I feel so completely and utterly miserable and there is no reason for it, there is no reason for the tears, there is no reason for any of this, none that I can identify anyway, I’m finding myself wishing I hadn’t handed over all those tablets the other week to GP, yet I know taking them would achieve nothing. If I want to feel pain or cut it out I have a pack of blades in the drawer but I’m scared to do it again when I already have a big infection in my last bad wound…not scared to cut…scared of needing treatment…scared of the questions…scared of breaking down in front of them…scared of the truth coming out my mouth again.

I really do not know what is wrong with me. I don’t know how much longer I can hang onto those “things will get better again” thoughts because even when they do it never lasts for long. Is this just the way things are destined to be for me? I know I am the only person who can change everything I dislike about myself and my life but that takes strength and I have no idea where mine has gone.

 

Maybe this is what I need…

Fixing…

How do I fix myself…