Tag Archives: new cpn

21:31 – Feeling really unsure about tomorrow

19 Feb

I haven’t seen new CPN since the 5th of Feb due to her being off sick then on holiday. And as you might remember the last appointment did not go well at all. At our last appointment I made the stupid mistake of opening up about some of the things the voices were saying and talked for the first time with her about some of the suicidal feelings I was having (although had no plans to act upon them).

At that time I was feeling very messed up and emotional as it was a few days before my cousins wedding which I couldn’t go to due to the fucking agoraphobia and it was really messing with my head and making me so upset that every family member would be there to share in her big day apart from me. I made the decision to open up to new CPN for the first time and told her that the voices were putting ideas into my head to do something to myself that weekend when all the family were away. Before I got the chance to say I wouldn’t act on the thoughts, for several reasons, she cut in and told me I was incredibly selfish to say something like that… she went on a little ramble and basically left me feeling like shit. And left me really disappointed that I knew from that moment onwards I wouldn’t ever want to see the woman again.

She had already pissed me off because I’d self harmed badly quite a few weeks ago now and the CMHT have an agreement with A&E that if I attend A&E then a copy of the notes get sent over to the CMHT. The nurse who treated me at A&E that day phoned the CMHT and asked if my CPN could please get in contact with me the following day so check if I was OK but needless to say she never did. In fact at our last appointment she didn’t even mention it and when I briefly did she seemed to want to change the subject.

I don’t know what it is about her but I can’t work with someone who shows such a lack of compassion. I’ve already been so patient with the CMHT and had two temporary CPN’s who I’ve had to get to know and tell my story too, only for them to leave several months later. And now this new CPN, the permanent new CPN is turning out to be totally shit.

So I have an appointment with her tomorrow, it’s been a couple of weeks since I last saw her. In that time I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster dealing with everything that’s happened with Charlie dog and of course getting through the weekend of my cousins wedding without being there and then my little boy’s anniversary last week. And in a way I wish she was a nice CPN because I’d like to be able to talk about some of that. I’d also like to talk about my desires to find a faith again and all the stuff that’s running around my head that I’m trying to keep happy and settled because it’s trying to protect me. And I think that’s another reason I’ve been thinking so much about religion because I see that as a form of protection as well.

But the reality is that I don’t want to see her again nor do I particularly want to speak to her again. About anything. The only one thing I want to tell her is how she made me feel during our appointment back on the 5th of Feb. And I would quite like to tell her that the following day when I had appointments with both Mr Psychiatrist and lovely GP that I told both of them how she spoke to me as well. I just don’t know if I have the strength to go into the appointment, say what needs to be said and then stick to my guns and tell her that I do not think this is going to work and that I would like to work with someone else. I’m scared she either (a) denies it or tries to tell me that I’ve somehow misunderstood her (b) tells me that’s fine but there is no one else with space on their caseload to see me.

I want to start working with my psychologist who I was seeing up until a year ago when she went on maternity leave but she doesn’t come back til next month and there’s no guarantee that she will definitely work with me again seeing as I made such little progress with her the last time. But I was pretty bonkers then and in and out of hospital all the time and things are a bit calmer compared to then (I think?)

So yes back to tomorrow… I don’t know what to do. I’m thinking of just phoning them at 9am tomorrow and saying I can’t make the appointment. I have thought about writing a letter to the manager of the CMHT and explaining what happened and why I don’t feel like I’m going to be able to work with this new CPN but again I panic about being believed or being told “well there’s no one else who can work with you”. Hmm I really don’t know what to do for the best. When they made me work with the first temporary CPN I didn’t get on with her at all and made absolutely no progress with her the whole time we worked together. And then with the second temporary CPN things got off to a little bit of a rocky start but then we started to work quite well together and then she left after a few months. And now I’m back to someone I don’t think I can work with, but permanently.

Pretty stupid to keep it going really.

I guess I’ll just wait and see how I feel in the morning.

In other news Charlie dog had a check up at the vets yesterday morning and they are really happy with his progress. He has to go back on Friday to have his stitches taken out but he’s been such a good boy and taking all his medications even the tablets which he accidentally chews and you can see the look of disgust at the taste in his mouth! We’re hoping this is the last week he’ll need to stay on his anti-biotics which would be great because they are the hardest medications to get him to take because they are all quite big tablets so it’s hard to hide them in his food. The three gut protecting medications he takes he will probably be on for quite some time yet but at least only one of them is in tablet form, the other is a syrup and the other is a powder. So yeah I’m really happy with him, he’s definitely starting to really fight back now 🙂

I also got confirmation I have been removed from one of the university modules I was supposed to be doing this semester so I now only have the one module to do. I’ve got a huge 120 page report to read and another 50 something page one then have to write summaries of them both from a sociological viewpoint. I’m not too good at sociology but I am trying. My concentration is still really poor and I haven’t got anywhere near the amount of work done over the past couple of days that I’d hoped too. I was aiming for about five hours study a day until I’d caught up but I think I’ve done about three hours in total over the last couple of days. I don’t know why I’m finding concentration such a struggle at the moment, there’s quite a lot going on inside my head, a lot of ideas to deal with.

I’m quite restless with everything, I can’t concentrate on television programs, I can’t concentrate on reading, it’s taken me over an hour so far to write this because I keep getting distracted with other things. I just can’t seem to sit still and it’s becoming quite irritable. I don’t have a choice, I have to catch up with this course work yet after fifteen or twenty minutes of reading I realise I can’t remember a single word of what I’ve just read. And most of my notes don’t make a great deal of sense either. I don’t know how to describe it, it’s almost as if my head chitter chatter feels like it has more of a sense of importance than everything else even though I know that catching up with coursework is the most important thing right now. It’s pretty confusing and extremely annoying but then, like I said earlier, the head noise isn’t causing me distress right now because I’m doing everything in a way that keeps it happy. Ah, fuck, I don’t know the words.

I’m getting a bit irritated with myself for not being able to express what I mean properly with words. Or rather I can’t think of the right words to explain it properly. Perhaps there aren’t right words for it? I don’t know.

What I do know is that it is time for Charlie to get some more medication, then it will be time to go out in the cold and walk the dogs then back for a nice hot shower and then bed before midnight with any luck. Midnight seems like ages away but the hours just seem to fly by at the moment, with my head going from one thought or idea to the next. I don’t want it to slow down as I find it nice the things I hear and it’s nice to hear something nice for a change and it’s nice that they are happy with me but it is a little bit irritating that they seem to require so much attention. It’s actually quite tiring trying to study, taking all your medications, the dog on his strict diet and medication schedule from 8am to midnight and making sure he gets them all at the right times, taking them walks, then on top of that all these ideas, thoughts, plans to find a faith, find the right religion for me to follow. But at least I now know if I keep them happy and do these things then I get rewarded with less distressing head noise, but I do also know that they will eventually start to get impatient with me and make my head hellishly bad if I don’t prioritise correctly.

Right it’s 9.30pm now (I started writing this at 8.06pm!) and all I’ve done is ramble. Time to say goodnight I think!


00:41 – “I never thought you could be so selfish”

5 Feb

I’m just going to briefly mention how my poorly dog is doing. I took him to the vet first thing this morning and he was kept in until 5pm on IV fluids and some other medicines. She didn’t think he was ill enough to need to stay overnight but also wasn’t happy to just let him go so I’ve to take him back in at 10am tomorrow morning to be checked over and if needed, another day on the IV fluids and maybe start some proper tests. He is very lethargic and didn’t even want to come out for his bedtime walk (then again it’s like a snow blizzard outside just now). So he is still a poorly doggy and still hasn’t eaten, so I’m still a bit worried about him. It’s at times like this I really wish they could talk to you and let you know what was wrong 😦

Whilst the vet tried to make him feel a little better I spent my day with a couple of appointments. The first was with new CPN which was a fucking joy as always (yes I am being sarcastic). I went in there not knowing what to say and she didn’t even mention the self harming or me missing my last appointment. We talked a bit about the voices and I told her that I do think the Quetiapine is trying to help a bit but it just doesn’t feel like I’m taking quite enough. Now my psychiatrist classes the maximum dose of Quetiapine as 750mg a day, but from the reading I’ve done 800mg seems to be prescribed quite often so I told her I’d like to try another increase but wasn’t too sure if Mr Psychiatrist would agree to it when I see him on Wednesday. She asked me if I wanted her to phone and mention to him so he’ll already know what I want to talk about before I go in.

So all that bit was fine. Until I started talking about my cousin’s wedding next weekend and talked about how many things I have missed out on for 7 years, SEVEN fucking years all due to this fucking stupid phobia about travelling away from my ‘safe place’. And this is where the appointment fell apart. Whilst she was rambling on about anxiety and phobias and all that scary stuff my head was bouncing the same thought round and round: to tell her about my plotting and planning or not to tell her?

Well… I figured I’m not going to gain anything by lying to her or by keeping things bottled up. So I told her. I started to tell her that I’ve been having thoughts racing round and round my head of what a perfect opportunity it would be next weekend to put an end to everything. Now, I wanted to continue to say that of course I wouldn’t actually do anything because:

  1. I’ve realised that I’m actually pretty scared about dying (as well as living)
  2. It’s my little man’s anniversary next Monday and I definitely would be here for that.

But I got interrupted as she cut in and said “I never ever would have thought that you could be so selfish. This is your cousin’s wedding day and just think how much you would ruin it when all the family returned home to find out what you’d done. Every single wedding anniversary your cousin would have would just be all about when you killed yourself. That is incredibly selfish. I can’t believe you could say something like that”.

(Not an exact quote but close enough)

Now I don’t dispute for one second that it would be an incredibly selfish thing for me to do and I’m not even that bothered that she went on a little rant about me being a selfish person. Well she could have picked slightly less harsh words but what really annoyed me was the way she just cut in when it was clear I was still in the middle of speaking to start calling me selfish… she didn’t even hear me out and I had to wait til she was finished her little rant before I could tell her the reasons why I wouldn’t act on the thoughts.

To be honest I think what I found hardest about the conversation was that it was the first time of really talking about suicidal feelings with her and I guess I hoped that even though I moan about her all the time I still hoped that when the time came to talk about serious and difficult things that she would actually display some empathy. Not sit and criticise me and call me selfish. By doing that all she has done is made me feel even less like I can open up to her and I can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen if I ever experience a real crisis and really need her help.

When the appointment was over and she told me she was taking a couple of weeks holiday so wouldn’t be able to see me again until the 20th of Feb I was quite relieved. I did get to say to her in the end that I had no intentions of doing anything to myself this coming weekend and mentioned the little one’s anniversary was next Monday and she didn’t even comment on it. I had to ask her if it would be OK for me to phone and speak to whatever member of staff was on duty that day if things got too hard (I probably wouldn’t phone but it’s nice to know there is that option if needed) and she was just like yes you can call if you really need it.

So I left that appointment wondering what the point to it had been, as is becoming the norm for when I leave appointments with her. Thankfully I had an appointment straight after it with my support worker through Rape Crisis and managed to get it off my chest. Support worker agreed that she thought new CPN had been a bit harsh the way she had spoken to me so once I had spoke about that for a few minutes I stopped feeling so annoyed and managed to have a good chat with her about some other shit that’s been on my mind, just stuff about my feelings towards men and how completely convinced I now am that I won’t ever have another relationship with a guy – partly because of how they’ve treated me and partly because I couldn’t ever imagine exposing my scarred body to someone again.

Right, before I go off into another ramble about all of that stuff I think I’d better take myself off to bed seeing as it’s nearly 1am. Keeping my fingers crossed that my poorly dog is a bit better in the morning.


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

3 Feb

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

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

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

I want to live

I want to die

I can’t go on living

I can’t end my life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


20:01 – The plotting and planning continues…

25 Jan

Yesterday I was supposed to go back to A&E to have my stitches removed but I couldn’t face it. I told myself one extra day wouldn’t matter and I would definitely go today as I had an appointment with new CPN this morning and the mental health team is in the same grounds as the hospital.

However I woke up this morning alarm beeping at 8am and just lay there thinking for the next hour or so. My appointment was for 10am and as the clock ticked on I continued just lying there, telling myself I would get up and start getting ready soon, but just like yesterday it didn’t happen. I didn’t go to the appointment and didn’t go to A&E to have the stitches out either. I can’t really see how an extra few days would cause any problems with the healing of the wounds…

To be honest I was thinking of just taking them out myself but they are very tight against the skin and I can’t really get into them properly even with tweezers and just a little blade, so I guess I’m going to have to go and have them taken out at some point.

So what have I done for the last two days? More planning. More plotting. Pretty much every minute I’ve been awake in the last couple of days I’ve either been completely caught up in dealing with voices – comments, instructions, filling up my head with the crazy laughter – and when the voices haven’t been distracting me I’ve still been gathering ideas “just in case”.

I’m supposed to be starting my next two university modules on Monday. I’ve received confirmation that I’m enrolled onto them but I just don’t see how I’m going to manage to do the work. My head is so so busy, fast moving thoughts, disruptions to my thoughts when the chitter chatter starts up… how the fuck am I supposed to find the concentration to study? But at the same time I don’t want to drop out of something again or fail at something again. But I can’t lie, things aren’t good just now. In fact they’re very very hard. And I am struggling a lot.

Sorry for such a negative post, I’m away to see if a couple of bottles of wine are enough to let me escape, at least for this evening. I just can’t help but wonder if this is always going to be it, if I’m just going to be this mess for the rest of my life. The periods of stability vs instability are so unpredictable, I hate never knowing how long a depressive episode is going to last or how many different medications I will need to swallow down to try and have a head free from hearing voices.

I refuse point blank to even consider a hospital admission because it doesn’t provide any form of therapy that might help me to feel better, the shocking lack of compassion of the nurses in our acute psychiatric ward is enough to make anyone go from feeling low to full blown suicidal. And don’t even get me started on the boredom, the fellow patients, the arguments, the way you can walk in voluntarily and told it’s just to keep you safe for a few days then as soon as you want to leave you are suddenly detained under the mental health act.

No. Hospital is a definite no no. Never again. And I can’t even go and have some stitches taken out at the hospital because I’m so convinced they will see right through my lies when I say I’m OK and I don’t trust them not to take control away from me. So I have to just hang on and hang on until I get a moment where I feel like I can paint on a fake smile, breathe calmly and just go in and get the bloody things out.

Hmmz. I’m confused. Very confused. I keep hearing the words “choose this path” and I’m not sure where “that” path will take me. Anyway, I’m sure whatever path I’m destined to walk along will be the one I’ll take. For now I need to drink think long and hard about what direction to start walking in and pray for some strength to get through this or find a way to make it all go away… permanently.

20:06 – Planning and plotting again

23 Jan

It’s been a few days since I last had a ramble and I can’t say I’ve done a great deal in that time. I admitted the self harming from last Thursday to best friend when I saw her this morning and then I spent the afternoon with my Mum and admitted it to her as well. I don’t like seeing them upset and I tried to just mention it then brush over it but I also had to admit the voices are back and really troubling me at the moment. I didn’t want them to know but they had probably already guessed something wasn’t quite right when I told them my Quetiapine (Seroquel) had been put back up to the max dosage again.

I have only had one appointment so far this week and that was yesterday (Tuesday) with my support worker from rape crisis. I cannot express how supportive that woman has been and with every week that passes the more and more I realise that a hell of a lot of my opinions about myself and some of the behaviours I do are all interlinked with the various types of sexual abuse I’ve experienced at different parts of my life. She really seems to understand the whole self harm thing and at the moment she is probably the person I am opening up to the most and feeling most benefit from seeing.

Today has been a fairly busy day. Best friend appeared at my door around 11am and we just sat and chatted for about an hour. She saw my appointment card for A&E sitting there with “Please attend to have your sutures/staples removed on: 24th January 2013” so obviously I had to admit to cutting. She asked why I hadn’t told her until now and all I could tell was the truth – I hadn’t wanted anyone to find out. I wanted them to think I was doing well. I didn’t want to disappoint them. She said she wasn’t disappointed in me and we chatted a while longer then she went home whilst I got dressed.

I met up with my Mum who treated me to lunch and we were going to go a big long walk with the dogs but it was so so cold that I was shivering like mad so Mum said we’d just take the dogs up to her house and let them run around the garden while we had a cuppa and warmed up. I ended up staying at Mum’s until 5.30pm when I realised I had 30 minutes to get to the pharmacy to pick up my weekly medication. So it was a bit of a mad rush to get there before they closed but we made it!

It was nice to spend time with my Mum and even though I kinda opened up about the voices, the cutting, and my head struggling a bit, I didn’t want to depress her or worry her so I tried to balance it by telling her I’d passed my first university exam and was starting back on Monday so I would try and use it as a distraction tool again as much as possible. Unfortunately they were just words to stop her from worrying… In reality I’m wondering what the point is to spending a total of 8 years of my life doing this course… I don’t even know if I will still be here in 8 years!

Tomorrow I have to go back to A&E at some point and have my stitches removed but I kinda don’t want to go. Then I have new CPN on Friday (who still hasn’t made any contact with me since A&E left her a message last Thursday) and well… it just all feels pointless… does it really matter if I leave the stitches in another couple of days? Does it really matter if I go and see new CPN this week? Does it really matter if I cut again?

I told support worker yesterday that I’m becoming aware of the fact that I’m “planning” again. I’m thinking up plans and deciding on ways and acquiring the means. I know this isn’t good but I’m feeling very troubled with what I’m hearing and it is distressing me a fair bit. I don’t want to admit this because I’m on the max dose of Quetiapine and every other anti-psychotic I have tried have had horrible side effects. I don’t want Mr Psychiatrist to say the Quetiapine isn’t working and that I need to try something else. I feel like the Quetiapine is really trying to help but there is just something missing, it feels more like I need something else (maybe a new mood stabiliser or something) added into the mix than to have the Quetiapine taken away. I still have two weeks exactly until my next appointment with Mr Psychiatrist and I’m not sure I’m going to be able to move onto the next section of my university course whilst my head is so noisy.

Blah… I’m not sure what to do… My head is just a playground for all these people and their voices… I don’t want to hear them any more… They are slowly starting to break me and quickly turning me into a completely paranoid wreck BUT this time I have recognised all of this in advance… therefore I can make my plans (purely as a safety blanket) just in case I’m unable to outrun/escape/hide from the head crazies.

Sometimes you just need to know you have options and sometimes I just need to remind myself that the off switch is an option which is right there waiting to be pressed.

(For the moment, however, I don’t think I need to press it just yet)

20:21 – Birthday parties and head crazies

19 Jan

Well I got a reply yesterday from the woman who sent me that shitty (no pun intended) letter on Thursday. I saw the email reply sitting in my inbox and mentally prepared myself for an explanation that they had been filming me. I felt all shaky and kind of scared as I opened the email because I was expecting an answer to the question I had asked – what was this process of elimination they had used and why they believed I was responsible. But to my complete surprise her reply was worded very nicely and she thanked me for my email and apologised for “any distress” her letter caused me and said that she was “happy to believe” that I was telling the truth and was not the dog owner responsible!

So I went from reading a letter that messed with my head and was the final straw to everything… to self harming pretty severely… to an a&e visit and stitches… from the threat of prosecution to believing that I was telling the truth… And whilst I felt relief that she believed me I also felt a lot of anger, some of which was directed at her but mostly it was directed at myself for losing the plot so much over a letter. I couldn’t quite believe that if I had just managed to stay in control until I had received a reply from her then I wouldn’t be sitting here now with more permanent scarring on my body.

My head was starting to feel messed up again so I managed to get an appointment to see my support worker at Rape Crisis late yesterday (Friday) afternoon. The doctor at a&e did say a voicemail had been left for someone from the mental health team to contact me on Friday, but of course none of them did. And I didn’t want to phone them to be told that they were too busy or some other excuse for not seeing me. So I called my support worker instead and said I needed to talk to someone about the self harming who I knew wouldn’t judge me. It did help a bit to talk to her. She asked me how I’d feel about writing an email back to the housing association woman and telling her how distressed her letter had made me feel (without mentioning that I self harmed) and ask her that if in future they have any concerns could they please talk to me before sending any letters that could distress me. I haven’t decided whether or not that would be a good idea yet.

I told support worker that I was also a bit confused I mean how can they go from saying that through some process of elimination they thought I was responsible to then saying the next day that they believed I wasn’t responsible. The housing woman didn’t answer any of my questions that I had asked in my email, such as what was the process of elimination that they used and of course the housing woman didn’t mention anything about cameras so if I mention anything about cameras I’m just going to sound like a paranoid mess.

Anyway, I’m glad that me and my little doggies aren’t being blamed any more but still very much convinced that all my neighbours are talking about me, and that doesn’t feel very nice.

Today (Saturday) has been a busy day so I guess it’s distracted me from the head crazies a bit. The day started with a trip to the toy shop to buy another present for the youngest so that both boys had three presents each. I gave the 4 year old his presents on Monday when it was his birthday and it’s the 2 year old’s birthday this Monday coming so best friend was having a kids party for them this afternoon. After the toy shop it was a quick trip back home to wrap the presents then I had to go to A&E to have a wound check and dressing change done. It was the senior charge nurse who was on who is (on paper) a part of my care team so I wasn’t as anxious seeing her as she knows my history and diagnoses etc. Everything looks like it’s starting to heal, there are no signs of any infection so I have to have another dressing change on Tuesday and then hopefully get the stitches out on Thursday or Friday.

After I left the hospital I went to best friend’s house and it was chaos! They seemed like they were all under control when I first got there as they were being good and all sitting in a big circle playing party games… But as soon as the games were over there were just children running around crazy! (high on too much sugar and too many E numbers no doubt!)

I stayed out at best friend’s house until about 6.30 pm then came home. I’m actually quite tired out from four hours of children! I was worried seeing all the kids would start to trigger me, it’s only three weeks now until my little one’s anniversary and I tend to find the kids birthdays leave me feeling upset and really really missing my baby. But it was so chaotic in her house that I was constantly distracted either playing games or fixing toys or changing nappies or dealing with the ones who were getting tired and crying and wanting cuddles so the time passed quite quickly. On my way home from best friend’s house I pass the cemetery so I did have a little moment of a lump in my throat thinking I should be planning a birthday party and having all that chaos in my house, not buying flowers to sit on a headstone 😦

Anyway I don’t want to get myself upset again so I’m going to go and make something to eat then probably just spend the evening watching TV hopefully there will be a good film on or something. It’s so cold at the moment that all I want to do of an evening is just curl up with the heating turned up to the max and try to get through to bedtime without any dramas. I hope I can get through to bedtime tonight with no dramas but now that I’m back home and it’s quiet I’m beginning to get bothered by head noise again and feeling a bit paranoid again.

I don’t see new CPN again until Friday and despite A&E phoning the mental health team I can pretty much guarantee that no one from the mental health team will contact me and I won’t see anyone from there until I go for my appointment on Friday. Not that I really want to see any of them but it would be nice if they actually did give a fuck and took notice of A&E’s requests especially when it was about to be the weekend and the mental health team is only open Monday-Friday 9-5 (cos you know, people don’t have mental health crises outwith those times… and no we don’t have a crisis team here either).

My head is still a bit pickled from the events of the last couple of days, I really am trying to stay as calm as possible and not let things get to me but it’s hard… And if I’m completely honest I’m kinda sad to say that now that I’ve had the relief through cutting badly again I kinda want to do it more and more. It’s like I’ve got the angel and the devil, one on each shoulder, and the angel tells me not to hurt myself again, that I don’t need any more scars and I certainly don’t need another trip to A&E for more stitches… But then the devil says “do it, it will feel good, do it, do it” and it’s very tempting. And I really don’t know why it’s so tempting because I felt awful with anxiety after doing it on Thursday… yet I feel like I need it/deserve it/not sure which… probably both…

OK… time to go now before I open the door and let the head crazies start running wild… I really don’t know where my heads at… Up then down, down then up, I need a head that is peaceful tonight… I’m too tired to deal with the crazies…

Hope you’re all having a nice weekend xx





20:55 – Cutting, voices, appointments and ramblings

16 Jan

It’s been a few days since I last posted mainly because I’ve been feeling absolutely shit and hiding away from the world again. Just me and the voices cut off and locked away in our own little world.

I was supposed to have an appointment with my support worker from Rape Crisis yesterday but I didn’t go. I don’t know why, my head was feeling too messed up and I spent most of the afternoon and evening yesterday cutting random words into my skin (more like scratches – no medical attention needed). Anyway, I regret not going now because I then remembered that she isn’t in the office for the rest of this week and now I won’t be able to see her until next week sometime, and I do actually find the appointments with her help, even though some of the stuff that comes out of my mouth in that room are pretty fucked up at times.

Today I had an appointment with new CPN. I’ve moaned about her a bit in recent posts but today she allowed me to talk about some of the bad things rather than making me only talk about good things. She asked me what the best thing was that has happened in the past week and I told her that I got my final semester one essay result today and passed the module with an overall 68% which isn’t too bad considering my concentration was absolutely fucked whilst I was trying to study for and write it. Now that the tutor’s have marked it, it gets sent to the Exam Board for them to confirm the mark. I’m kind of hoping they might find another 2% to award me as I believe anything above 70% is an A and that would of course be nice.

She asked me loads of questions about the module I’ve just finished and I wasn’t sure whether she was just trying to engage me in conversation or if she was trying to use up as much time as possible talking about the “positives” so that there wasn’t much time left when she finally asked what hadn’t been so good over the last week. I told her about going to see lovely GP last Wednesday and about my medication being increased. I told her about the fear and sadness I felt at hearing the mocking voice that makes all the derogatory comments becoming more male in tone and this scaring me that I wasn’t in control of that voice, not in the way I can deal with the giggle.

I told her that I’d become pretty upset last night, I was angry and emotional and tried to talk to the male voice, to ask what he wanted from me, to ask him to stop it. She said I have to try and laugh at it, disagree with it, ignore it, drown it out with loud music in my headphones… but… not talk to it as I was showing it respect that way and encouraging it to speak to me… in turn distressing me even more.

When our hour was over and I left the appointment I felt a bit mixed up. On the one hand I didn’t feel quite so deflated as I felt after last week’s one. I felt she listened a bit more this week, but I still felt like I left the appointment with lots of crap swimming round my head and then actually wished I was still there in the appointment so that I had the opportunity to just get it all out. But by this point I was almost home and I came back feeling angry with myself that we had wasted about half an hour talking about my university course and that half an hour I could have used to tell her about my head crazies. But the thing is that when you’re actually in the room with her she very much leads the conversation and I don’t know why, but I find it very very hard to try and change the topic of conversation over to something that I actually need to talk about.

So on my way home I went into the chemist and picked up my weekly prescription, and when I got home and was putting all the little boxes in the cupboard I suddenly had a passing thought that I could just to swallow the lot of it. But I knew I didn’t want to overdose, I didn’t want the consequences of it, so I put the medications safely in the cupboard… And then I cried. A lot. I felt really confused over what I wanted, about the voices I’m hearing, about the massive intense self harm urges, about whether I was capable of carrying on with my university course even though it is only part time and from home I just didn’t have the belief in myself that I could do it and then began to doubt if I even wanted to keep on doing it. Stupid eh when I know I passed my essay with a semi decent grade.

I haven’t even told anyone that I passed. I haven’t phoned or text my Mum or best friend. I’ve known for two days now that I passed and yet my CPN is the only one who knows. Why? Because to tell my Mum or to tell best friend or to write it as a facebook status means people will all say “congrats” or “well done” and I don’t want to see messages saying I’ve done well at something!! And if I tell them then they will expect me to be all happy and smiling and I feel like I’m all out of fake smiles for the moment. I’ll tell them when I find the strength to smile (if only temporarily) again.

So that’s been my last few days. Nothing very exciting. No more appointments until next week and still a week to go before I start modules 2 & 3 for semester two of the course. My Mum is off work this week and has text me a couple of times to ask if I’d like to meet up and do something but I just don’t really want to see anyone, not even family at the moment 😦

Anyway. Time to go and try to find something to do with myself for the next few hours before bed. I might try and have a shower, it’s been a good few days since I last had one. Showers tend to feel pretty pointless… when you’re already feeling like a ‘dirty’ person yet you get in one because someone has said in a cheery voice that it’ll “make you feel better” but, in reality, you know that no matter how much you scrub and wash, you aren’t ever going to feel any cleaner or any less dirty.

My head feels very noisy tonight and to be honest I just want a break from it, just a little bit of peace for a while, please.


13:40 – Quetiapine at max dose, praying it works

9 Jan

This morning I got up early and decided to make an appointment to see lovely GP rather than just handing in a prescription request form. Now that I no longer see lovely social worker, the only person apart from Mr Psychiatrist who has been there consistently over the past few years is lovely GP. I was feeling really anxious when I went in to see her and told her that I don’t know if it’s just because I don’t really know new CPN yet, but that I’m not finding the appointments helpful because new CPN always wants to talk about the positives and whether she likes it or not I need to talk about the negatives as well. I need to talk about them to make sense of them and I need to talk about them because they are likely to affect my mood and destabilise me.

So lovely GP sat down her pen, turned her chair round and asked me what was making me feel so anxious. I rambled about the self harm urges being very very much at the forefront of my mind and I rambled about the persistent giggle and mocking comments I hear in my head. I told her how scared I was that this may not be my thoughts that I was hearing but that I was hearing a voice again. She said that Mr Psychiatrist had written in his last letter that my Quetiapine (Seroquel) could be increased from 600mg to 750mg a day if needed. Four weeks ago I jumped from 600 to 700 and today she said she is increasing it to 750mg. So that is me back on the maximum dosage. She also arranged for me to have routine bloods done on Monday morning.

I have been on the maximum dose before but whilst I’d had fairly good results from Quetiapine at around the 500mg mark it stopped working and so we increased and increased but it would only work for a very short amount of time and then the voices would come back. The voices got stronger and 750mg still wasn’t enough to stop them so we tried three other anti-psychotics: olanzapine (zyprexa) then haloperidol (haldol) and then amisulpride. None of them worked. And all of them apart from Quetiapine gave me horrible side effects.

So here I am back on the max dose and I have to go back and see her in 4 weeks time on the 6th of Feb which also happens to be the day of my next appointment with Mr Psychiatrist so I guess that will work out quite well if any medication changes are needed. I know the mocking voice and giggle are contributing to me feeling anxious and a bit paranoid. This in turn makes me distressed. So if I go and see Mr Psychiatrist and tell him I’m still feeling anxious and distressed but am now on the maximum dosage then he is likely to say he wants to try something else. I am hoping and praying that this extra 50mg is enough to quieten my head back down to a bearable level.

Anyway, lovely GP gave me prescriptions and then made a point of telling me that things will get better, things can get better and that it’s important to be aware that I have taken on something positive – my university course – and even though it’s part time and it’s from home it’s a good start. She encouraged me to try and remember the positives when I was feel low, but then she also looked at things from the other angle and acknowledged that I have been self harming for a very long time and it’s been my coping mechanism for so long that it’s such a hard thing to stop doing. But most importantly (to me) she didn’t sit and offer me praise for going 3-4 months without doing it, instead she said she could see why the urges to do it would be strong at the moment, 3 months is a long time to go without doing something that was (at times) a daily habit.

She told me to think of it a bit like quitting smoking. I’ve smoked daily for years. I smoke more when I’m stressed and less when I’m calmer. Just like self harming. When I’m not smoking I can be sure it won’t be long before the bells start ringing in my head telling me I need another cigarette. If I was quitting the first few days would be very hard. The first few weeks I would probably have the worst cravings and even though I had gone a few weeks without a cigarette I would be thinking about having one a lot of the time. I’d battle back and forth with myself and try to convince myself if I just had one cigarette then it would satisfy the cravings but it would make the battle to quit even harder for myself. However if I managed to get through it, deal with the cravings but not give in to them, then I would get to a place where six months down the line the cravings would be a lot less intense. And a year down the line they would be even less. The cravings would probably last for a very long time and may never go away completely, but I would have learned and developed the skills to cope with them and let them pass without acting on them.

So it remains to be seen whether I can carry on battling against them or whether the urges end up winning. But as new CPN continually reminds me, it is only me who can stop it from happening again… If only it were that easy…

I only had about 10 or 15 minutes with lovely GP but I felt like I had got a lot off my chest. She let me talk, calmed me down, looked for a solution and just generally made me feel like I’d been listened too. After leaving the doctors surgery I went to the pharmacy and sat for the usual half an hour that it takes them to make up my 4 weekly prescriptions (I only get a week at a time, I guess they still don’t see me as being stable enough to get a month’s worth of tablets at a time).

I also remembered I have an appointment with my support worker from Rape Crisis today. I get on with her a lot better than new CPN and although when I’m there it’s to talk about both childhood abuse and the assault back in August, topics such as self harm come up quite a lot and she is very knowledgeable about it and completely non-judgemental which is nice. Self harm and abuse seem to go hand in hand quite a lot, probably because the abuse memories make you feel so vile and disgusting and confused and messed up and then the self harm is like this magic wand that just seems to release all of those feelings and offer a temporary break from it all.

So I hope that tonight I will feel a little calmer, the mix of the increased dose of Quetiapine and having a good appointment with lovely GP and (hopefully) a proper good chat with support worker should all leave me feeling like I’ve got a lot off my chest today.

I might write another little update later if anything comes up at my appointment with support worker that I need to have a ramble about.

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

7 Jan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

22:47 – Seeing the family… and stuff…

6 Jan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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