Tag Archives: flashbacks

00:06 – It’s time to say goodbye

9 Dec

The time has almost come for me to say goodbye to this flat that I live in as tomorrow I move house. This will be my last sleep in here tonight although I don’t expect to get much as I feel a bit of a mess to be honest. Last night I had a bit of, no scratch that, I had a complete meltdown. I switched from anxious and panicking to hysterical and crying my eyes out, to feeling like I must cut myself to calm down, to taking a handful of Diazepam as the safer option to calm down, then back to being an anxious wreck again before finally just sitting on the floor rocking myself back and forth and silently letting tears roll down my cheeks.

So yeah… I sensed I was in a bad frame of mind and the thought of doing something really bad to myself just wouldn’t leave my head but at the same time I kept telling myself I could not be that selfish, I could not do something to myself when my parents are doing everything they possibly can to make this new house nice for me. I owe them so much and they do not need to see me having yet another breakdown because of the head crazies. So in the end I phoned the Samaritans and I spoke to a lovely gentle sounding lady for about an hour, I told her everything and I have to admit it helped just to get everything out and have a complete stranger just sit and listen and let me talk until I felt calmer again.

Unfortunately I didn’t sleep too good last night though and tonight I feel quite sad at the thought of saying goodbye to this flat and find myself being constantly flooded with memories as so many things have happened in here.

It was in this flat that I found out I was pregnant.

It was in this flat that my ex-fiancé proposed to me.

It was in this flat that I set up the beautiful swinging crib for my little boy.

It was this flat I returned to with empty arms after losing my little boy.

It was in this flat that my ex-fiancé admitted he’d been having an affair.

It was in this flat that I took serious overdoses.

It was in this flat that I have self harmed so many times.

It was in this flat that I got sectioned for the first time.

It was in this flat I slept on my sofa for a year because of my paranoia.

It was in this flat that I ….

…. I could go on and on but I’m sure you get the idea.

There are a lot of memories associated with this place, a few are good but the vast majority are bad if I’m truly honest with myself. Still, for some reason there is an anxious part of me which is scared to leave it tomorrow. Maybe because this is all I have known for the past 7 and a half years and despite all the shit that has happened in it, somewhere deep down I have had to make myself believe that this is my home as that’s the only way I’ve managed to keep on living here. I pretty much spent the whole of 2012 sleeping on my sofa and only going into the bedroom to get clothes out the drawers. For almost a year my bed lay with a dust-sheet covering it and piles of boxes on top of it.

But around this time last year my parents had enough of me living like that and came and redecorated it all for me to make the bedroom look a bit different and to an extent that worked. I started sleeping in my bed again and have pretty much continued to do so for all of 2013. Some nights though I lie in my bed and my head starts going crazy with these flashbacks of all sorts of memories, I see people, objects, all sorts of things flashing in front of my eyes and need to run back through to the sofa to hide away from them.

Whilst I’ve been packing I have thrown out about 80% of my personal possessions. Any item which I can tie to a particular memory or person has gone in the bin, apart from items associated with my little angel or that my parents or good people in my life have got for me. I want this new house to be a completely fresh start with no memories in it, a blank canvas to create new and hopefully happier memories in. I want to leave as much of my emotional baggage behind here and move on to pastures new but today I have been quite upset and anxious about all of this moving stuff. There are some memories I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave behind… I don’t know if this will make sense but because this move has all come out of the blue so quickly it’s like there are some memories that I haven’t thought about for ages that have come flooding back and whether I feel ready to or not I have to say goodbye to them. I have to go with what lovely support worker said to me which was that any memory that is important will stay with me no matter where I live or where I am. And I guess that’s true and I just have to keep reminding myself of that.

I still have so much to do tomorrow, I am only really half packed as I’ve spent the past few days throwing out as much stuff as possible, but due to everyone being at work and stuff we aren’t getting the van until 6pm so that gives me all of tomorrow morning and afternoon to finish packing up. Then my parents, my brother and my best friend’s boyfriend are all coming round to help move all of my heavy stuff like the cooker, washing machine, fridge, sofa, bed, bedroom furniture, living room furniture, etc. I’ve got to stay at my parents house tomorrow night as the carpet fitter can’t come until Tuesday morning so all of my stuff will have to be put into the living room in the new house then once the bedroom carpet has been laid I can spend Tuesday unpacking and sleep in the new house from Tuesday night onwards. I have now also managed to get all of my mail redirected and have also arranged to have a new phone line fitted in the new house but unfortunately the first available appointment for a BT phone engineer isn’t until the 27th of December which means that I need to go for more than two weeks without being able to use my laptop. Thankfully I can still use the internet on my phone so I will still be able to write my rambles here although they will probably be considerably shorter in length! (Maybe not a bad thing!)

So the next time I update it will be from my new house. This feels like such a massive change for me and I can only hope that once I am unpacked and settled in that I will be able to post here saying that it was definitely the right move for me to make. I hope it won’t be long until I can call it my home rather than my house. I hope the housing association will fix my broken roof tiles so they don’t leave me to stress out about the dampness situation. I just want to be able to sit back in my new place in say a week’s time and smile. Smile because I feel genuinely calm, happy and at peace with the decision I have made.

Well… it’s time to do more packing then walk the dogs and get myself to bed. Tomorrow is a big day and will no doubt be an extremely stressful day as well. I have already put some Diazepam into my pocket for tomorrow as I’ve got a feeling I may be popping them like smarties. But all I need to do is get through it. That makes it sound so easy. I don’t know why this is such a massive deal for me but it is.

I guess it’s because I know I’m closing the book on one chapter of my life… but I must look at the positive side which is that I’m opening that book to a new chapter that is yet to be written.

*deep breaths*

“You can do this” … say and repeat… say and repeat… make this my mantra… and take more deep breaths…

I *can* do this… right? :/


13:53 – Tired, emotional and (still) wanting to cut…

18 Mar

As you may have guessed from the title this post contains talk of self harm

I’ve not posted in a few days as I’ve had very little to say for myself. Following on from my previous post in the early hours of Friday morning I still have very strong urges to self harm. But as yet I am still hanging on and still haven’t done it.

I was awake again most of the night between Thursday and Friday. I have taken to going onto a free site (www.king.com) and playing free puzzle games all night in an attempt to make the screen brightness give me tired eyes… and with the hope the last of my brain battery juice would be sucked out. Alas, it doesn’t work. Just like lying in a dark room all wrapped up in my cosy bed doesn’t work. Nor does reading a book/having a milky drink/taking extra medication. It’s as if my body doesn’t want to rest even though I badly need to.

Due to the extreme tiredness and shitty weather combination I’ve spent all weekend indoors (besides a few short walks each day with the dogs). Friday night I watched Comic Relief all night and despite having fuck all money in the bank I did do the donate £10 by text so it can just get added onto my next bill. It was a good mix of entertainment as well as some utterly heartbreaking stories of kids all over the world living in poverty, dying from such preventable diseases. I did shed a tear or two 😦

Saturday morning I woke up with really bad pains in my tummy. Don’t know what the fuck they were but they hurt a lot. Located some strong 30/500 co-codamols in the cupboard and they did the trick to get rid of it. But they left me sleepy and not wanting to move so I sent a text to my Mum and cancelled meeting her for lunch. That’s the parents away on holiday for the next week which for some reason leaves me feeling quite vulnerable and alone. I might only see them once a week at times when I’m hiding from the world, but I do feel safer when I know they are close by if I need them.

Then last night or was it Saturday night? (I can’t even remember what I did less than 24 hours ago my brain is so pickled) I decided to traumatise myself a bit further and watch the catch up of One Born Every Minute. In this week’s episode one of the labouring mothers-to-be delivers a beautiful baby boy. Then her Mum (baby’s grandmother) comes in the room once the baby is born and as she cuddles him she says “welcome to the world Lewis” … cue the lump in throat… followed by tears rolling down my cheeks… followed by giant heaving snotty sobs and crying into a pillow… **flashback** me holding my little Lewis (he was stillborn for those who don’t read here often) … me wondering did I welcome my little Lewis to the world??… **flashback** my mum holding me as I sat between her and my (ex) fiancé with my little Lewis in a tiny moses basket on my knee and the hospital chaplain reading out a blessing… wishing my Mum had been able to hold our Lewis and welcome him to the world as a proud grandmother… **flashback** the confusion.. it didn’t make sense.. why had it happened.. why wasn’t my baby alive????

I wanted to cut so badly at that moment. I was angry with myself for letting myself watch the program, why do I do it to myself pretty much every week? Why do I sit and trigger myself watching programmes and documentaries about things that leave me so upset? It’s bloody ridiculous. Why can’t I ever just learn to change the channel… argh! I was also hurting really badly with memories and flashbacks. I was over tired and very emotional. I was mixed up with too many emotions running around so I decided to go to bed and try playing some mindfulness tracks on my iPod to see if it would help me to calm down a bit. The first couple of tracks I sat and cried through, but by the third track I was starting to breathe a bit slower and the tears were drying up. By the fourth one I was actually listening to what the woman was saying and trying to follow her instructions. By the last track I felt OK again and ready to sleep. And amazingly I did fall asleep soon after but unfortunately I woke up at 2.20am and have been up ever since. So yep.. still shattered.

Today I had planned to be a study day but I don’t know if I’ll be able to focus on it. I need to have a shower as we are back in ‘personal hygiene fail’ territory again. It’s just after 1.30pm and I need to find some motivation to do something.. anything.. to distract from those little fucking head crazies that keep on at me to just get hold of a blade, slice it through my flesh and just get it fucking over with. They know, I know, we know, you know, everyone fucking knows it’s going to happen… why not just do it??!! I need that outlet, I need to be able to release all the emotional headfuckery, the sadness, the hurt, the anger, the frustration, the confusion, the… everything. I need to let it all out and unfortunately the only way of getting it all out at once tends to mean I seek that rush and calmness that self harming gives me. If only for a moment.

And that’s what the problem is… like I said in my last post, as time passes and more years go by I now tend to regret self harming pretty much immediately after doing it. I am aware of the consequences. I don’t want the consequences. I want the ‘quick fix’ feeling but I don’t want the aftermath of it. It’s like medication vs talking therapy – you know certain medications work quickly and provide a temporary plaster over the wound…. talking therapy on the other hand is a slow drawn out process that takes ages to see results but is the one that is going to help you most long term. Do I want the long term answer or the quick fix? Am I prepared to deal/live with the consequences? I think this is the first time I’ve actually stopped and thought about self harm wounds before just diving in there with a sharp blade cutting mindlessly lost in my little trance then returning to find myself back in the moment and in a total mess.

Everything just feels pretty blah right now. Scared of the consequences yet scared to ignore what feels like the ‘natural’ thing to do. All of my thoughts and feelings and emotions are rolling into one and bringing back the pressure cooker feeling of everything getting so close to just blowing the pressure cooker lid. Last time the lid eventually blew… will this time be the same? Who knows…

23:07 – You have to say hello before you can say goodbye

27 Jan

I heard a quote today which has been ringing in my ears ever since. The quote was “you have to say hello before you can say goodbye” and when I heard it my eyes instantly filled up.

Is that why it’s so incredibly difficult to accept the loss of my little boy? Is that why almost six years on I still can’t deal with it, and why every year as it approaches his anniversary I start to think constantly about ending my life here on Earth to go and be with him? Is it so impossible to even think about saying goodbye because I never properly got to say hello? And I’ve been thinking for hours and hours – did I say hello? I think that I did, I’m sure I remember saying those four words “hello my little man” through my tears as I cuddled him. But what if I didn’t? What if I never said hello?

This is making me feel so upset and anxious and emotional and yes I’m crying again. Because I can’t remember if those words came out my mouth and I have no idea why it matters so much to me but it’s just upsetting me so much.

I don’t have anything else to say. I just needed to write that down.

OK, take a breath. Stop the tears.

This weekend, what have I done? Nothing really. I’ve had a very boring weekend, although I did finally go back to A&E and got my stitches out after noticing one had actually gone completely under the skin so it was a bit uncomfortable getting that one out but the others were fine.

My Dad said he was going to come down to my flat tomorrow to start painting the skirting boards and lay the new flooring in my bathroom and hallway (or at least get the flooring cut properly to size then lay it next weekend. Tomorrow I officially start my next two university course modules but my thoughts are swinging between being completely blank and numb to racing fast and feeling completely unstable.

Sometimes I just don’t understand who I am, what I am or why I’m here. I really don’t. And it confuses the hell out of me. I wish life could make more sense. I just wish it could just be straightforward for once.

22:09 – 1st night in a bed in 10 months?

19 Dec

Just a short post as I’m shattered… It has been an exhausting few days…

On Monday I had to move everything out of the living room and into the bedroom. I slept on my six foot leather bean bags with both doggies curled in next to me. And I wrote my previous blog post which was quite a depressing read but something that I am still stuck in a little habit of doing.

Tuesday the guys came with my lovely new flooring for the living room and kitchen area. Then when my Mum finished work she came down and helped me move all my living room furniture back in… and then we had to move everything from the bedroom into the living room as well as the guys were coming back today to lay the bedroom carpet. After it was done this afternoon my Mum came down again and helped me move all the bedroom stuff back into the bedroom. So here I am sitting in my living room which no longer has sheets of mdf as flooring but a lovely dark wood effect floor and huge big rug in the middle of the room. It feels cosy and it looks so much nicer.

However the test is going to be whether or not I can get past the psychological block of the bedroom, if I can go in there and lie in that bed and not start hearing excessive whispers and giggles in my head, not start experiencing visual hallucinations or have memories and flashbacks flooding back into my head… and everything else that sent my head bonkers being in that room before. It’s been ten long months that I have slept on a two seater sofa for and ten long months of no proper flooring down in my flat and now I have a warm carpeted bedroom, a bed that’s been cleared and cleaned and all nice new bedding put on. Am I going to be able to sleep in there tonight without going crazy? I will be so disappointed if I begin to panic and end up running back to sleep on the sofa in the living room.

It’s also going to be weird because my little doggies have always slept where I sleep. But because I have got carpet in the bedroom I don’t want it getting ruined with dog hair and also don’t want to take the chance of one of them having an accident on my lovely new floor! So, I have laid their big double duvet out on the big bean bag and will soon tuck them both in for the night. I am really really tired and I think I’ll be able to fall asleep quickly so long as I can relax and not get super anxious once I’m actually in the bedroom. I want to break this psychological barrier that’s been built up, I want to stay in this flat and be happy in it, but there are quite a few things I’m going to have to try and overcome to make that happen.

Is this going to be the first night in almost a year where I sleep in a bed? I’ll let you know tomorrow…

Goodnight folks xx

22:17 – Trying to make sense of things

25 Nov

This past week has been crap. In fact the last blog post I wrote where I was genuinely ‘OK’ goes back to the beginning of October. So that’s been at least six weeks of sliding further and further down the slippery slope and struggling to get through each day, struggling to just function, struggling to catch up with my studies… since I was last in a good ‘zone’ and was losing weight and excited about starting the university course.

In the past six weeks I’ve stopped attending appointments (haven’t been to any in 2-3 weeks now), I’ve stopped going outside when it’s light, have battled everyday with anxiety and paranoia, I’ve not really had any contact with anyone, I think constantly about self harming, I barely shower… I guess I’m not/have not been in the best of places lately.

It’s Sunday night and another long crappy shitty week comes to an end soon. And another one starts tomorrow. Will I be able to make it to the appointment with new CPN this week on Tuesday morning? I think if I don’t go I might fuck things up for myself getting help from the mental health team as that would be the third one in a row I wouldn’t have attended, and I’ve only met her once… seems like ages ago that I met her now.

I am one week behind with the uni course at the moment. I start week 11’s work tomorrow when I should be starting week 12 and week 11 is an intensive reading week so it’s going to be super hard to get the concentration and motivation levels up and get the work done. If I can get week 11 and 12 done over the next 7-10 days then I will just about have enough time to get my final essay written and submitted on time. So it is possible for me to catch up and to pass this module, it’s just a matter of actually doing it now.

The possibility I mentioned the other day about doing a house exchange with a girl I know is still a possibility. She wanted to come and see the flat on Friday but my anxiety was awful, it was giving me really bad stomach pains and hot and cold flushes and I felt really bad so I asked if we could swap to Saturday. Then Saturday I was still being suffocated by the anxiety so I cancelled again. She text me today and asked if I was feeling better and if she could pop down tomorrow at some point, to which I have said yes so I really hope tomorrow I wake up in a reasonably calm state. I woke up earlier than usual today and have been awake for most of it, so tonight I am going to try and get to sleep early and try and face a day in the day time, take the dogs (and myself) out for a walk when it’s light and try and whack this anxiety on the head and convince myself there is nothing to be scared of about people being able to see me. Easier said than done though even if it does sound ridiculous to some people.

Anyway back to the house swap, I have been so sure up until now that I am unhappy in this flat. Worse than unhappy. Miserable. Trapped. Stuck in the past and the memories. Unable to sleep in an actual bed in my bedroom, for 9 months now I have slept on the living room sofa. I was so sure I would be so much happier in a little house with a garden in a quiet little area and a new fresh start. And had this girl asked me even a couple of weeks ago when things were bad (but not this bad) I would have been jumping with excitement about the possibility of this house swap. Instead I get the news that this might be a possibility whilst I am suffering badly with anxiety and completely in self isolation mode, when my night’s are days and days are nights, and every time I think about moving out of here my anxiety starts getting worse again. WTF?! What is that all about?

I *know* I am not happy in this flat and I know that when I’m thinking more clearly that I desperately want out of here. Is the anxiety surrounding it because I’m scared of change – like even though I hate the way I’m currently living it’s what I know – or is it because I’m just so scared and anxious in general at the moment about going outside and seeing people that I just don’t want to let her or anyone in my flat at the moment? I don’t know. Part of me even wonders if I might be scared to say goodbye to the memories that haunt me in this flat… I know that probably sounds crazy but it feels like a very real possibility. It’s like I never go in the bedroom because it freaks me out, I get tortured with a variety of flashbacks and it really messes with my head because it can all be so intense… but I know that through that door that’s what that room has in store for me and I’m now wondering – does a part of me ‘need’ to know that those memories are just through that door? I find myself wondering if I’ll forget the memories as and when the time comes to leave this flat – and – I’m starting to realise that this scares me. I don’t want to forget some of them, but I know I need a fresh blank canvas. And maybe it is partly that which scares me, what if I get that blank canvas, that fresh start, and still feel this unhappy? What if I begin to feel guilty that I left my memories behind?

I remember when I got the keys for this flat six years ago and then for the first week I couldn’t sleep in it. Anxiety completely overtook me and I could only come down in the daytime at first, I’d potter around putting things where I wanted them, but would then go running back to my parents house (the spare room as my room was now empty) and I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t sleep here. But something was stopping me. If I remember correctly I ended up going out for drinks one night then decided at the end of the night that I was just going to walk along the road to the flat and see how long I could stay there. The alcohol helped a little to relax me but it was still really hard that first night. I think my ex then said he would stay for a couple of nights with me and from there onwards I was OK in here.

I think I get anxiety a hell of a lot surrounding change, new people, new places, the unfamiliar, and a whole lot more. And I know that it does always turn out OK in the end but it’s so hard to remember that mid anxiety attack.

Anyways I have rambled on long enough, I don’t even know what the point of this post actually was, just one of those moments where I needed to write out all the thoughts and worries in my head I guess.

23:23 – Seeing new social worker & rape crisis support worker

5 Oct

Today I had two appointments. The first was at 1pm where I had my first appointment with the new social worker but she hasn’t replaced other social worker she is just working with me temporarily for a few weeks until the new permanent CPN starts. So she asked how I was doing and I told her about going with other social worker to advocacy on Tuesday and how hard I actually find it to express why I want to move out of this flat so badly. Somehow this led on to me telling her my life story. I didn’t plan on doing that but it just kind of happened, not in masses of detail but kind of significant events along the way and when diagnoses were made etc. I didn’t get hugely positive vibes from her when we first met the other week but she actually turned out to be quite nice and I think I’ll be OK working with her for a few weeks, she seems easy enough to talk to, so that’s good.

I then had an appointment with the support worker from rape crisis. I haven’t seen her in two weeks as she was off on holidays so it was nice to see her and have a bit of a catch up, tell her how I got on with my child befrienders interview and how I had got my first uni essay in… then onto the bad stuff about the self harming and how I’d done it again in the time she’d been away. It seems that self harm often goes hand in hand with rape/sexual abuse so she is pretty understanding about it all and asked what I thought would help me at the moment and I said I didn’t know, just trying to keep myself distracted I guess. She said she was more than happy to see me once a week and after me rambling away for over an hour we arranged to meet up again next Thursday. She said today that as I enjoy writing and feel like I can express myself better when I write things down then she might give me a writing exercise to do next week which I assume will be writing about my feelings about the recent assault or perhaps writing a letter to him or something…. I remember when I was a young teenager and getting help from a CAMHS psychologist she got me to write a letter to my childhood abuser telling him how it made me feel, what I thought of him for doing that to me and a whole load of other stuff… and then we took it outside and took a match to it and watched it burn. I guess it was supposed to be symbolic somehow, like as though I was watching all those bad feelings just burn away.

This time though everything just confuses the hell out of me when I think about it. Maybe because I still have no real recollection of what happened other than knowing it did happen from the PCP drug found in my tests and the intense flashbacks that are still face-less. I was actually thinking about it a lot yesterday. This is going to be way too much information for some of you so you may wish to look away now…but… I had recently taken a course of Provera (the tablet that I use to induce a period seeing as I don’t have them on my own thanks to the condition PCOS)… I finished the course on Tuesday and was expecting my period to show Friday/Saturday (usually 3-5 days after I take the last tablet). However it caught me off guard and came yesterday, Thursday, and full heavy flow at that. And suddenly I felt very weird about it being there and the first thing I did was go straight into the shower to clean and clean and clean as I felt like I was dirty.

I tried speaking about this with rape crisis woman today and she said it made sense. I told her it was like the first time since the assault where I’d been aware of my ‘girly bits’ and all these flashbacks started happening and I felt so dirty at the sight of the blood and just had to repeatedly clean myself in the shower until my head adjusted and calmed down to the realisation it was OK, it was just a period. So yeah, that wasn’t particularly pleasant.

Anyway no more period talk I promise. Don’t want the guys who read this to get too squeamish!

I think I’m going to spend a few hours with my Mum tomorrow as she has the day off work. Usually we would go for a bite to eat but seeing as this bloody diet is so restrictive it will probably just be a cuppa for her and a water for me, and maybe take the dogs along the beach or something if it stays dry. Last night we had a crazy thunder and lightening storm, the whole sky was lighting right up for hours. It was pretty cool to watch but one of my dogs is terrified of thunder (and fireworks) so I had to close the curtains, turn the TV up loud and wrap him up in a duvet next to me, even then I could still feel him shaking, poor thing. My little dog didn’t bat an eyelid, he just did his silly little barks each time the sky roared!

Speaking of the dogs it’s time for their bedtime walk and it’s time for me to do some reading before I try and get off to sleep as well. I hate the weekends, drunk people passing by my house til like 3am and the noise makes the dogs bark which in turn wakes me up and I end up frustrated and very tired. Hopefully tonight they won’t be as bad and I can sleep right through but that hasn’t happened in weeks and weeks so I doubt very much it will now. I seem to be firmly set in a pattern this past week of sleeping between the hours of 1am and 3am and between 5am and 8am and that’s it. So averaging out at about 5 hours of broken sleep a night. Pretty blah.

Anyway time to take these doggies out.

Goodnight folks x

13:42 – Off to a&e shortly

18 Sep

I’m off to a&e shortly to get my stitches taken out. I don’t know if they will definitely take them out as the little bit of the wound that I looked at still didn’t look as though it was very healed, so maybe they will say to leave them in for another few days.

I was bad last night and cut again. Very shallow though. The stupid thing is that I did it on the same leg where my stitches are but higher up and round a bit so now I’m hoping and praying that the a&e doctor or nurse doesn’t see it, or maybe it will be a different nurse on anyway so they won’t realise it’s a new cut. Actually it isn’t even a cut. I wrote I have the devil inside me with a blade.

Did it give me the release I needed? For a little while yes and I managed to get some sleep after it. I think it was around 2am that I did it. The night time is so bad for the crazies. I still have a couple of Nitrazepam left but am hanging onto them until I really really need them because GP said she would only give me them very short term as I’m already on Diazepam and that’s the second time she has given me them and I’m not sure that there will be a third. So yeah, I am hanging onto my last two tablets until or in case I hit utter desperation with my sleep. I’m going to ask either Mr Psychiatrist tomorrow or GP on Friday if I can take something like Melatonin in combination with my meds because my sleeping is ridiculous at the moment. It is so broken and I don’t know how much longer I can survive on 2-4 hours a night – and those 2-4 hours are all broken up. I did get six hours I think it was on Saturday night but I really need a good eight hours every night of unbroken sleep to help keep my mood stable.

I’ve had the guys in all day doing the shower again, they actually appeared at 8am on the dot this morning. But they have been coming and going all day and I said would it still all be finished tomorrow and the guy said he doubts it, it will probably be Thursday until it’s completely finished.

I also made contact with Advocacy this morning. CPN had suggested I get in touch with them to help add more weight to my housing transfer application and as she is leaving soon I thought I’d give them a phone today and see if it’s something they can help me with. The woman was very helpful and it turned out she works within the same team as the advocacy woman I worked with whilst I was sectioned to help get me out of the psych hospital. So she said that she could get me set up with a volunteer, go through the letters that have already been sent to the housing association, and then see what they could write that hasn’t already been said or that needs saying again. So the plan is that when I see CPN tomorrow afternoon I’ve to ask her if she wants to come to the initial meeting and bring the letters that she has sent or whether she just wants me to get a copy of them and go myself, then I’ve to phone the woman back tomorrow after I get home and let her know what date suits best.

I was supposed to go to the sexual health clinic this morning to pick up my results from the tests I had following the assault but I completely forgot. I didn’t have an appointment anyway it was just the drop in bit I was going to go to, unfortunately they are only open on a Tuesday morning so I will need to wait til next week now.

I’m kind of debating in my head whether or not to go to a&e today. I just can’t be bothered with them asking questions if it’s the doctor who is usually on during the week (the one that put the stitches in) he will start asking me a load of questions about why I cut again even though it’s barely more than a scratch. But also the urges to do it badly are so strong and I don’t want to admit that if I’m asked. At the same time I don’t want to have to go back tomorrow because I lose the plot tonight/during the night… I can’t when I have both Mr Psychiatrist and CPN tomorrow and now all my notes of attending a&e are being sent to CPN and then on Friday GP would see I had done it again and I don’t know how any of them would react to it if it was another bad one.

I keep getting flashbacks where I’m a little child and being abused, it’s making me want to self harm ‘down there’. I did that once before but not badly enough to need medical attention and anyway I would have been too embarrassed/ashamed to have shown it to anyone. But I keep getting these thoughts to do it in that area and do it badly enough that it will all be permanently scarred and disfigured and no guy will ever want to touch it or go near it again.

It’s now 2.10pm and my card for a&e says to go in at 2.30pm I really really don’t want to go. I need to take the dogs a walk anyway and I need to go and buy a pack of cigarettes so I need to go out the house… But I need to go to the hospital twice tomorrow for my two appointments and I could just go to get my stitches seen to then when I’m already up there.

Ah I will go and take the dogs out and see if I can face going along to the hospital once I’m outside. I’ll probably post back later…

Ok I just took some diazepam… it’s now 2.25pm so by the time I have walked the dogs and been to the shop I should hopefully not be feeling so anxious and can just go to a&e and get the stitches dealt with…

18:14 – A very sick dissociated girl

17 Aug

I was so ill yesterday I can’t even put it into words. I had a massive dissociative episode. I don’t really feel like writing on here how or why it came about but it was extremely unpleasant and left me very very confused.

I have flashbacks today of vomiting a lot, blood pouring into the toilet and realising it was coming out my nose, trying to walk the dogs in the dark and vomiting violently into the bushes, an old man asking if I was OK and freaking out screaming at him to get away from me.

I saw my CPN this morning and told her about it. I also ended up with two second degree burns on my stomach where I had obviously been smoking and thought I had an ashtray sitting on me but had just sat them on my top, burning through my top and through my skin. CPN advised me to go to a&e and tell them what happened. I went to a&e and was in there for hours. They did urine tests, found blood in my urine, the doctor came and did all my obs which were ok, I was just so confused and could remember hardly any of yesterday just these horrible flashbacks of being so unwell.

The doc put me on a course of antibiotics for the blood in my urine. The nurse treated the burns on my stomach. They were quite concerned I had dissociated to such an intense level and was experiencing such horrible flashbacks. I was put on an ECG machine to check my heart was beating OK and the doctor checked me over externally to see if I had done myself any other damage. Thankfully I hadn’t.

It is a real shame it happened because I had a really good day on Wednesday, I met up with best friend and we went a drive away to the middle of nowhere to a little village for some fresh seafood in a lovely restaurant right on the quietest prettiest little beach. We also went to visit her Aunt and to the cemetery out there where her Grandpa is buried.

This is the view from the restaurant:

I was supposed to be going out tonight with the girls but I can’t really afford to and I’m also still feeling very sensitive from yesterday. Also I am on anti-biotics so drinking wouldn’t be the best of ideas.

I’m a very mixed up and confused girl today. I can’t believe it was all my head, there were other factors involved that I shall perhaps go into more detail about another day but for now I just want to sleep and sleep til I feel back to myself again.

Protected: Letter to my abuser – TRIGGERING –

16 Apr

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