Tag Archives: night out

23:45 – To go or not to go…

25 Oct

I must apologise in advance if I ramble more than usual but I’ve been drinking a really classy (yes that is sarcasm) drink for the past few hours called Dragon Soop. It is £2.99 per can (crazy overpriced shit) and I’m on can number 3 at the moment. The stuff is absolutely revolting, it tastes like paint stripper and is so heavily caffeinated and full of vodka it’s making my heart do crazy palpitations. However, I don’t like to waste things so carry on drinking it I shall…

Here it is in all it’s glory… not my photo, one I ‘borrowed’ from google because it’s too much effort to take a photo with my phone and hit upload…


Today I had an appointment with lovely support worker and I told her the truth, the full complete absolute truth about everything. She didn’t judge me, I think she could see how genuinely regretful I am about it all. She let me talk and listened to me moan about CPN#2 and said it sounds like CPN#2 is only willing to do things her way or no way. This got me to thinking – if I’m in and out of bad head places right now and there is even the slightest possibility I am heading towards a crisis – how can we do crisis prevention if I can’t fucking talk about how I feel? *insert angry, fed up, frustrated smiley here* I apologised AGAIN to lovely support worker for her being lumbered with all my crap and us still not managing to do any of the work that I’m actually going there to do because I just cannot focus on that right now.

Then after I left my appointment something possibly good happened… I got a text message inviting me out tomorrow night to a Halloween party that’s on in one of the pubs. There are a group of girls going, some of whom I know and get on with and unfortunately a couple that I don’t get on with at all but maybe I won’t need to speak to them much. So I went off in the search for a Halloween costume to wear (always difficult finding any outfit when specific parts of my body must be covered due to excess scarring) and also hard when I’m such a fat bastard at the moment and all the nice outfits are made for tiny people. Anyways, I finally found one that both fits and covers all the bits that need covered, but once I got home and tried it on I realised I’ve actually bought it in a size too big and the woman in the shop said that none of the costumes can be returned. Argh. However, with the help of some discreetly placed safety pins I think I’ll be able to pull it in a bit. Failing that I am going to wear a onesie with my hair in pigtails and ribbons, freckles drawn on my face and a dummy around my neck… I’d look like an absolute idiot but it would be sooo comfy!

So I felt kinda psyched up and happier at the thought of going out with some girls I haven’t seen for a while (that was until I realised everyone else that was going and how many of them I don’t get on with) so now I don’t know if I want to bother going. But I know if I don’t I will sit here tomorrow night all alone and feeling miserable, especially as best friend has now splashed a message on facebook asking who is all going out next weekend! I knew she would do this, say she couldn’t even afford to go for a fucking coffee for my birthday but manage to go for a night out next weekend when it’s her other friend’s birthday. And yeah, it pisses me off because I’ve never missed any of her birthdays yet it’s a different story when it’s mine *insert another pissed off frustrated smiley here*

Right now I’m unsure whether I’ll go out tomorrow night or not. One part of me says alcohol is a depressant and I’m already feeling depressed enough without adding to it (she says as she slurps her dragon soop)… I worry that even if I enjoy myself I will come home alone and the depression will kick in along with being drunk and that will lead to me doing something stupid. And I can’t allow myself to do anything stupid because I must be able to paint on a smile and go for a nice lunch with my family on Monday. Then again I think if I do go out I might be surprised, I might get on OK with the other girls, I might actually have a good laugh (they are pretty wild!) and maybe come home with a genuine albeit drunken smile on my face, fall into bed and giggle to myself as I think about the night’s antics.

Who knows what way it will go?

The good thing is that I live within walking distance of the pub so I could always go along and if it’s crap just make up some excuse to leave and come home early rather than staying out til we get chucked out at 2am then stand around the kebab shop talking drunken shite to random people for another hour before finally staggering home. The friend who invited me along is also using the “you never know, you might find mr right on saturday night!” line … although I think I’d find it slightly disturbing if any guy found me attractive in either of the two costumes I would be wearing!

So right now I have no idea what will happen tomorrow… knowing my luck I’ll decide to just go for it then the social anxiety side of things will start to kick in and make me just want to hide in the house and too scared to go out. I find it extremely difficult to be in a group of people at the best of times but super super hard to be in a group of people where there are some I know and don’t get on with. I much prefer if I’m going out for it just to be with one or two other people.

And that’s my news for today… a good session with lovely support worker… I’m using my session with her next week with her coming with me to the dreaded appointment with the new psychiatrist that I don’t get along with as there is no chance I would go if I had to go on my own…

And decisions to make about tomorrow night… to go or not to go… that remains to be seen…


00:02 – Truth be known, I’m struggling… a lot

10 Apr

[Warning – there is a graphic description of sexual violence in this post]

Since my last post in the early hours of Friday morning I have been quite busy but also, if I’m honest, struggling. On Friday afternoon I went to see my Mum for a little while and to see best friend. We were all going out on the Saturday night for best friend’s birthday and I was trying on my outfit I was planning to wear out up at Mum’s. Seeing their eyes quickly scanning the extent of the scarring on my body felt horrible but then they both started telling me how proud of me they were that I was now being trusted with a month of medication again and how proud they were that I’d stayed out of hospital for so long. They were nice about the scars but I felt utterly hideous and very uncomfortable with them on show so quickly got covered up again.

Saturday night we all went out. All the girls had short tight dresses on – I on the other hand had my legs fully covered and my arms fully covered. I felt a bit out of place so took just a couple of diazepam whilst we were all getting ready at best friend’s house followed by at least four pretty strong vodkas. By the time we got to the first pub around 10.30pm I was feeling a little tipsy… by the time we left the last pub and began to head home at 2am I was very drunk. But it was a strange kind of drunk, I just couldn’t seem to relax properly all night. I couldn’t get hyper-alert-suspicious-paranoid-brain to shut up. I didn’t join in on the dancefloor, I didn’t let a single person buy me a drink, every guy who got within a couple of feet of me I quickly walked away from. I tried to join in with the laughs but my head was somewhere else all night and all I seemed to do was watch the clock and count down the minutes until I could get the hell out of there and back to my safe little house.

Sunday I felt absolutely awful all day. It seems I’m at that age where hangovers don’t feel too bad when you first wake up but as the hours pass you feel worse and worse, not any better. So yeah, Sunday was pretty much spent lazing around doing nothing. I know alcohol is a depressant but this weird state of mind has been on the go since Wednesday when lovely GP decided to trust me with a month’s worth of medication. Every time I open my cupboard door I hear ‘male voice’ telling me I’ve got them there for a reason and it’s not to prove how responsible I can be with them. But then I hear Mum and best friend in my head, telling me how proud they are of me and I hate myself for even giving the tiniest bit of attention to ‘male voice’.

But ‘male voice’ has been very much present over the past week mostly being insulting telling me things like I’m a dirty whore who deserves to be raped again… a stream of laughter by him every time someone said I looked nice on Saturday night… telling me it would be a good idea to take all of those Diazepam and just fucking knock myself out… telling me me I’ve not made my body ugly enough for him yet and to get a blade back to my skin. He’s angry with me that I walked past the DIY store today and didn’t go in and replace my empty box of blades and it is all I keep hearing from him tonight that I WILL go buy more tomorrow or else I’m going to make him so mad that he will have me [insert warning here to very graphic horrible instructions] “cut my tits off” or his other favourite is “someone’s gonna rape you [between the legs] with the sharpest knife I can find” . Pretty fucked up I know but that is the way he speaks, that’s his vocabulary, that’s his way of showing me he is in control, not me. He is particularly violent in his threats and comments and I am not a violent person, but he says things in ways that flash images in front of my eyes of either me mutilating my body badly or hurting someone else. I’ve never really hurt someone else, I’ve had a few bitch fights, hair pulling and that kinda shit… I’ve punched a couple of people in anger… but I’ve never really properly hurt someone to the point where I could do them permanent damage. And I can’t imagine me ever doing something like that but the things he is saying to me scare me, I can’t deny it.

So with all this going on in my head and his voice talking far too much I haven’t been able to sleep again. I stayed up all of Sunday night, all day yesterday until I finally took a handful (not an overdose) of diazepam this morning around 11am and at finally around 1pm I fell asleep until 4pm. I had promised best friend and her kids that I would go out and see them today now they are back from their dad’s, I promised Mum I would go for a walk with the dogs with her and maybe go for some lunch or coffee or something. Neither of those things happened and other than going out a few times today with the dogs I have done absolutely nothing.

I am very very much at crunch time with regards to my part time university course. I have failed the 20% part of the module. The essay part makes up the other 80%. If I was able to spend the remainder of the week studying like crazy there’s a chance I could throw some sort of an essay together but I have an appointment with my rape crisis support worker tomorrow and then it’s best friend’s actual birthday on Thursday. And to be completely honest I have lost all motivation. I’ve lost interest. But then I’ve lost interest in everything over these past few days.

My head feels like it’s going a bit mental again and I am lacking in strength to fight back. All I seem able to do is lie on the sofa or in bed and battle back and forth with the intrusive voices and crazy thoughts. I feel like I have all this invisible pressure around me: be responsible with the medication, prove to them all I can do this, keeping mum and best friend proud of me, keeping ‘male voice’ happy, knowing I’m probably going to be kicked off the uni course and fail at yet another thing.

I am shattered right now. It’s midnight and I pray I can sleep through the night. I need a little bit of energy back, it all feels like it’s been zapped out of me. I am so scared I’m going to let everyone down… things feel slippery yet I don’t know why. I have no plans to take the medication to hurt myself but the self harm urges (cutting) seem to be getting stronger again. If only to shut him up. And not even the remembrance of the major regrets I had after doing it a few weeks ago are enough to keep me certain I won’t do it again… I think in all likeliness I will give in… because I’m weak… pathetic and weak.

Why oh why can life never just be straightforward? Why does it always have to end up mental again in the end?

01:37 – A long but good day

5 Apr

It’s been a long but pretty good day today. I’m pretty tired and planning to head off to bed shortly but thought I’d have a little ramble about my day first. My day started when I woke up absolutely freezing cold on the sofa around 4am. I got up and put the heating on and then got into bed but couldn’t sleep even though I was totally shattered. I sat in bed playing about on my new phone until the room was nice and warm and then around 6am I finally fell back asleep. I woke up at 9.30am and decided I better get up and face the day.

Had a shower after entering personal hygiene fail status again, got dressed, took the dogs a walk, took my medication… seemed like the start of a good day but then I came back home to kill a couple of hours before my appointment with my rape crisis support worker and in those couple of hours I turned into an anxious mess. Anxious about quite a few things, some things there was no need to be anxious about but I began to realise that what I was really anxious about was the unknown. For example, we are all going out on Saturday night for best friend’s birthday and they are all wearing little skimpy short dresses whereas I have to keep my body completely covered up. Even though my outfit is nice I still can’t help but feel like the fat frumpy covered up one of the group. I don’t particularly want to go out drinking, I can’t enjoy a night out these days as I spend the whole time on hyper alert mode watching everyone and suspicious of everyone and I can’t ever seem to relax and join in when everyone is a bit drunk and hitting the dancefloor… instead I hide in a corner and if any man comes within a couple of feet of me the look I give them makes them quickly turn around and walk away. Sometimes I wish I could be fun and carefree and dance and laugh and drink and flirt but I just can’t. I am shit company on a night out these days and if it wasn’t best friend’s birthday I wouldn’t be going.

So yeah, by the time I was leaving the house to go to my appointment I was feeling panicky and anxious and was wanting to just cancel it and hide indoors all day but I fought back and went to the appointment. It took a while for the anxiety to calm down but it did and we got some good talking done. I left the appointment feeling a bit calmer and then went to meet best friend. I asked her a couple of weeks ago what she wanted for her birthday but she kept saying she didn’t know and then yesterday she said she would really like it if we could go somewhere nice for a meal and spend an evening just having a laugh and some adult conversation as her kids are staying at their dad’s this week and we NEVER get to go out for a lunch or dinner without the kids. And even though the kids are pretty well behaved you can’t completely relax as you always have to keep one eye on them and do the whole “if you don’t eat your food you aren’t getting any sweets afterwards” speech. So I’d asked her if she’d like me to pay for us to go somewhere and pay for a nice meal in a nice restaurant as a birthday present and she said that would be lovely.

It was really nice to spend the evening together with no kids and I’d left the dogs at home so it was just me and her talking about everything and anything. The restaurant we went to was lovely, quite expensive and we had a half hour wait for a table to come free but the food was so tasty it was worth it. We ended up having a really good laugh talking about lots of random things that have happened to us over the past seven years we have been friends. Reminiscing and stuff… it was good… and the hours just seemed to fly by 🙂

I’ve been home for about an hour and I am so so tired. Tonight has to be a proper full nights sleep, my body badly needs it. At the moment I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow although my Mum has the day off work so I might try and spend a couple of hours with her. I’m still feeling very nervous about going out on Saturday night but I’m trying to just think about the here and now and not think about Saturday until it is Saturday… easier said than done though!

And as it’s now 1.30am I think it’s time to watch a little half hour of TV then head off to bed. I can feel my medication starting to kick in and the yawns are starting now as well… so on that note I shall say goodnight.

Overall, a good (but long) day 🙂

16:25 – A bit of a messed up day so far

24 Feb

Well I messed up. I had planned to go to Church this morning for the service at 10.30am to say thank you to God for helping me in my prayers and also to see what that Church is like as I go through my “trying to find the right faith for me” thingy.

But last night best friend phoned and asked me if I was going out for some drinks with a little group of them. I went to say no and before I got the chance she said “you promised you would come out this weekend, you’ve not had a night out since like Christmas time”. Then I remembered that I did indeed promise I would go for a night out with her. So I said that I would go.

Everyone went to her house to get ready to go out, there was the usual commotion of clothes and make up everywhere, mirrors propped up on tables, music blaring, the air a mix of hairspray, perfume and cigarette smoke. Oh and a nice big litre bottle of Russian vodka and a bottle of Limoncello (to do shots with) were both sitting on the kitchen worktop waiting to be drunk. Before I’d even got my clothes changed I’d already had 2 shots of Limoncello and a large vodka and coke. When I was doing my make up I knocked back another few shots. When I was straightening my hair another large vodka and coke went down the hatch. And by the time we left to get our lift into town I was a little bit tipsy and looking forward to a good night out.

It was around 11pm when we got to the first pub – the norm here is to get at least a little bit drunk before even going out because the pubs don’t really get busy until around midnight, then they get so busy you can hardly move by the time they close at 2am. So yeah the first pub was shit, it was just full of guys playing pool so we had one drink and one shot and then left.

Pub number two was busier and had some decent music playing so we had quite a few drinks in there and some shots and then onto the obligatory jaeger-bombs. Around 12.30 we left and went onto pub three as everyone (apart from me) wanted to go dancing – I don’t do dancing these days – I hide in corners and drink and keep my eye on everything going on around me. Paranoia? No self confidence? Scared of being ‘spiked’ and hurt again? I think all three are correct. So I stood in my corner and watched them all dance and have fun and I started feeling really out of place, like I just didn’t fit in. So about 1.30am I called it a night and came home to walk the dogs and get into bed. I felt pretty drunk but managed to avoid the usual vomiting that follows any time I drink these days. Then again I suppose that much alcohol combined with all the medications I take makes vomiting a pretty likely scenario!

This morning I didn’t wake up until 11.15am as I’d forgotten to set my alarm to 8am to get up and do Charlie dog’s medication. So I quickly got up and got his first one done, threw some clothes on and took them a short walk. By the time I’d done his third morning medication and given them some food my head was absolutely pounding and my hangover was in full swing.

After I’d walked the dogs and fed them and sorted medications and all that stuff I realised it was almost noon and I had missed Church. I felt so bad and before the head chitter chatter even kicked off I immediately started to pray and apologised for failing this morning and promised I would do better next week. But that wasn’t enough and by about 1.30pm the chitter chatter was noisy. Very noisy and very unimpressed with me. Told me to try harder, to do better, to prove myself before things would turn very nasty for me. Reminding me of the powers that God has and how they could make him use those powers to cause me complete and utter misery. I tried searching the web to see if there were any churches that do a live streaming service so you can watch/attend it from home and I did find one, a morning service just about to start that was in a church somewhere in America – it was 9am there and 2pm here so I sang the hymns and listened to the readings and turned the laptop volume up full to try and prove to ‘them’ that I was genuinely sorry for not going to a church today.

But they just kept on getting more and more noisy and in the end I was searching the web for all sorts of things – prayers, how to apologise to God properly, more church services to watch, videos on youtube of bible readings, etc. Then I saw a prayer telephone service and started searching for more of them. I could find a couple in America and one in Australia but nothing in the UK. So I phoned the one in America (no idea how much that’s going to cost me as I’ve not got any international call allowance) but anyway a man answered who introduced himself as Jeff and he asked how he could help me today. I was trying to speak slowly and clearly so he could understand my accent but I was getting close to hysterical with all the voices bouncing around my head telling me what I should beg forgiveness for. Jeff said he could hear I was upset and told me it was OK, to take my time, to allow myself to calm down. If only!

Anyway it all came tumbling out about how I’d failed this morning and broken my promise after God being so good to me and answering my prayers for me. I told him I didn’t know yet which faith/religion I wanted to follow but I was definitely a believer that there is ‘a’ God. He said that was OK, that some people who phone them to pray together don’t even believe in God at all, they just want someone to pray for them at a time of crisis. I went on to tell Jeff a little bit about my mental health problems and how all I really wanted in my life was a sense of happiness. If not happiness then contentment would do just fine. I told him what I was hearing inside my head about how God would never forgive me especially not for going out and getting drunk and then missing church. In my head ‘they’ were hissing at me that I was despicable, telling me I should be ashamed of myself for repaying God in this way after he had helped me so much recently. But Jeff told me that was not true, that God would love me and protect me even if I make mistakes along the way. Because life doesn’t come with an instruction manual and we all make mistakes and through those mistakes we learn from them. He just told me to do the best I could in whatever situation I found myself in and so long as I did that then God would be there to protect me.

In the end I was on the phone for about 30 minutes to him and at the end he said a long prayer for me which he made very personal and I began to cry as he spoke. He asked God to watch over me and give me strength, he asked God to watch over my little boy who is up there in Heaven, he asked God to help me find the strength to recover my mental health and to help give me a brighter future. And despite Jeff saying to me that it didn’t matter if I missed Church so long as I prayed at home he could obviously sense how much ‘they’ were tormenting me for not going, so he added in a line about that in the prayer as well.

It’s now around 4pm and I feel a little calmer again. They seem happy with me that I phoned across the world to have someone pray with me and that I have prayed a lot myself today and that I watched the bible reading videos and ‘attended’ the online church service. So I am being rewarded with some peace and quiet at the moment although my hangover seems to be getting worse as the day goes on. Now I remember why I avoid nights out these days. Although it was nice to go out and have a change of scenery it really wasn’t worth feeling this ill for!

I’m going to my parents house for a Sunday roast dinner in an hour so hopefully that will help me to feel less sick and a bit brighter. I don’t know whether to take the dogs with me or not. They love going to see my parents and probably enjoy the change of environment for a couple of hours, but they are going to be in for a shock as they won’t be getting their own little Sunday roast dinner any more, not now that Charlie dog is on specialist food and for the moment that means strictly no human food! Plus they won’t be able to get their usual treat of a few little dog biscuits because it’s not fair to give to one of them and not the other. They probably think I’m being so mean to them at the moment by not giving them little bits of my food or any treats but getting Charlie dog back to good health is the important thing for now. So yeah, I don’t know whether to take them with me or just leave them here for a couple of hours then go for a nice walk when I get back. I think that might be the best thing to do, it also means Charlie won’t start jumping around with manic excitement.

Well, I guess I had better go and do some more of Charlie’s medicines. Then after I’ve been to the parents house for dinner I must get some studying done, I am still sitting about a full week behind and if I have not completely caught up by this time next week then I have no chance of passing this module as we start getting assessments then and know I wouldn’t be able to pass them. I only have one appointment this week but that’s not til Thursday so I should be able to get a good bit of studying done if I can just find my concentration again. I’m hoping that lovely social worker might get in touch and offer me an appointment sometime next week as even though crappy CPN has now left I’d still like someone to be able to touch base with once a week or something. Anyways, enough rambling from me… I hope you’re all having a happy/contented/peaceful weekend.

17:47 – Had a lovely night out with an ex, then disaster happened

7 Oct

Well yesterday was interesting. It started off like any normal day, I’d arranged to meet my Mum and we took the dogs for a long walk in the afternoon. I heard my phone beep and saw I had a new text message. It was from my ex that I met around 8 years ago when I was 22 coming on 23 and we were together for about 18 months. He lived for the last 6 months we were together in my parents house with me. I will refer to him as P.

P  treated me like a princess, but we both used to smoke stupid amounts of cannabis and when he moved in things became really frustrating. Neither of us were working properly, I was on benefits and he was doing odd jobs here and there for people. The more cannabis we smoked the more pressures there were for money and the more we began to argue. One day I just had enough, on New Year’s Eve of all days, I lost the plot with him over something really stupid and told him to pack his stuff and leave. We split up on 31st December 2005.

By this point my agoraphobia was really starting to kick in so he moved back to big scary city to his parents house and we lost contact with each other.

Around a year later I was with my angel baby’s Dad (my ex fiancé)  and I remember getting a text message completely out of the blue one day from P asking how I was doing. Even though things had ended a bit badly and even though our relationship had been really unhealthy with all the cannabis smoking, I still had fond memories of the time we spent together, so I text back saying I was OK and was with someone else and was pregnant. He replied and said he too had met someone else and had got himself a place on a training course for a really good job within engineering.

From there we sent the odd text or email maybe once or twice a year and I learned he was with a woman who had a little girl and after learning I was pregnant, he then learned of my loss. Another year or so passed and I was planning my wedding; he and his partner had just got engaged. Another year passed and I started to become more and more unwell and by now we were onto the start of 2009 and I was diagnosed with Bipolar. I remember mentioning it in an email to P. He said it sounded right as my moods were frequently changing from happy and hyper to low and withdrawn when I’d been with him but he’d thought it was the cannabis. Around this time we emailed regularly for a little while because my relationship with the fiancé ended and P had finished his training course so would email me often and let me know how his new career was going and to see how I was doing.

Then things went quiet for around a year, maybe more, I think it was the early part of 2011 when I saw another email from him. Again it was just an update and to see how I was. I didn’t reply because I think this was around the time I was detained and in the psychiatric hospital. One day nearer the end of 2011 I emailed him and asked how he was, if he was married yet, how his career was going and mentioned I had been quite unwell hence the reason I hadn’t replied until then. The reply I got back shocked and saddened me; his fiancée had cancer and it was terminal. I think I may have written about it on here back then I’m not sure, but that was when we went through another phase of emailing each other regularly. Sadly his other half died, I think it was around 6 or 7 months ago now. Even though he isn’t the biological father to her little girl he’d been in her life since she was 4 and is now just turning 11. She said she wanted to stay with him when her Mum died and that’s what’s happened. Her biological father died in a road accident when she was very little, so it’s quite a heartbreaking story for her.

Anyway… back to yesterday… I get a text from P who I’ve been in touch with on and off over the past 6 months and he says was the offer I’d made in an email of meeting up for a catch up chat and some adult conversation still open as he was finding the grieving hard at the moment and his ‘daughter’ was going to stay with her cousin overnight. I was really nervous but I understand all too well how sometimes when you are grieving you just need an impartial person to sit and talk it all out with. So I said yes it was fine and did he want to come here around dinner time and we’d go for a bite to eat. And that’s what he done.

I was nervous as fuck when he text to say he was in the local area. I looked at myself in the mirror wondering what he would think of me, 7 years since last seeing me, four stone heavier than last seeing me, no longer the 23 year old spring chicken I was back then. But in that time we have both gone through huge losses and life events, we are both older and wiser, neither of us smoke cannabis any more, he has a career and knows about my MH problems but knows I’m trying to better things at the moment now I’ve started the Uni course.

When we first saw each other it was awkward! Neither of us knew what to say and I think we were both kinda looking each other up and down, looking to see what had changed about each other and looking to see what was still familiar. I think we both looked the same facially, just a bit older maybe. He’d put a bit of weight on as well but that wasn’t a bad thing, he was really skinny when we were together and was now just the right size build.

We went to a local restaurant and he treated me to dinner. I was good and just had a chicken salad bowl with the dressing on the side so I could stick to my low carbing as best as possible. The conversation soon started up and before long was flowing away quite the thing. After dinner he asked if I wanted to go to a bar and have a drink. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol on my diet and have no doubt put on half the weight I’ve lost this past week as one drink turned into two, then to five, then up to about eight or maybe I just started to lose count. He only had two as planned to drive home at the end of the night and it was still early at this point.

We ended up meeting up with my best friend and her other friend and staying in the pub with them until it closed at 2am. I was starting to feel pretty drunk so went and got a bottle of water to try and sober up a little bit. The pub was so busy you could barely move but then I spotted a little seat in the corner and plonked myself down there. He sat next to me and all of a sudden said, “I think I’m going to regret coming down here” – I asked why – he said, “because now I’ve seen you again I realise how much I still like you”. I blushed and looked away with a little nervous smile on my face. I couldn’t look back at him without doing these silly little laughs so just gave him a hug instead and said thanks. We both looked at each other and there came that moment… the kiss was about to happen… but something flashed through my head that I had offered to meet with him as a friend, as someone to talk to, that he was grieving, so I just gave him a kiss on the cheek and then said I was going to the toilet.

We came back here after the pub closed at 2am and sat talking until about 3.30am. We took the dogs a walk together, it was so cold outside, Winter is definitely on it’s way! Then we get back to my front door and his car is sitting there and I ask him what does he want to do, come back to mine for a while or head home? Due to this current sleeping on the sofa situation I didn’t have anywhere for him to get some sleep and I wish so much now that I had just put the dogs in the house, got him to drive us both to my best friend’s house and used her sofa beds… because what happened next just ruined the whole evening.

He said it was probably best if he went home, we had that awkward moment where I know we both wanted to kiss each other but we didn’t. Instead I gave him another hug and told him to drive safely. The road he was taking home was going to take him the best part of two hours, it’s a bastard of a road in the day time never mind at 4am in the pitch black when you have been up all day and are shattered. But he said he’d be OK. I text him just after he left saying maybe it wasn’t a good idea for him to be driving home so late but he text back saying, ” got to concentrate on driving, was great to see you again, you’re still hot 😛 ” I giggled and text back “drive safe”.

90 minutes later I get a text, “just trashed my car, think I fell asleep for a second at the wheel”. I couldn’t believe what I was reading, it was just gone 5.30am and he sent me a photo of the view from the police car he was sitting in, the car I’d watched him drive off in was now a crushed heap on the road. After checking he wasn’t hurt I felt so guilty (and still do). I should never have let him drive home. He was breathalysed and it showed just a tiny trace of alcohol, like I say he’d had a couple in the early evening but then stuck to cans of Coke all night. The police got his car towed away and gave him a lift home after taking a statement about what happened.

We had such a good night last night, even best friend liked him, and then it had to go and end like this! He comes to see me for the first time in 7 years and ends up with a car that’s so damaged it’s a write-off and him nearly killing himself at the same time. I wished so much as I read those texts at 5.30am that I could just turn back the clock a couple of hours and have used my brain and said “no, you’re not driving that distance home, you’re getting some sleep first”… but I was a bit drunk and shattered myself and just wanted to flop onto the sofa with the duvet round me and fall asleep.

I know we were only meeting as friends, but he said in person and in text that he liked me. Then the crash happened and today his texts have been few and far between, none of them with little kisses on the end, I told him I feel so much to blame for what happened, he simply replied with “a lesson learned to us both, I’m sure we’ll both know in future not to let anyone drive when they are so tired”. I even offered him my car for as long as he needed it so he could get to work etc tomorrow but he said he would get a hire car until he got a decision from his insurance company as to whether they would pay out or not.

I know we just met as friends. I know he is grieving but he also kept talking about wanting to move on with his life. I know we weren’t compatible 7 years ago but we were so comfortable with each other last night that it was like we had never been apart. I didn’t say anything to him about liking him, he said it to me, twice. I’m sure he could tell by my face I was thinking the same but just didn’t want to say the words out loud.

He left last night saying he’d really like to come and see me again. From his texts today I don’t think he ever wants to come back to this place. I hate when these things happen, you do something completely random on impulse, you end up having a lovely time and then bang it all goes wrong. Instinct is telling me he is going to go quiet on me now, that we will lose touch again and that will be that until some other random email pops up in months to come. I’m not saying I want to get into any sort of relationship with him, not at all, but there was a definite spark between us and I’m now left feeling pretty blah that our lovely night together ended in such total disaster and now he doesn’t seem to be returning my texts.

Ah well, I guess if it’s destined for us to see each other again then we will. If it’s not, well such is life.

13:23 – A more positive frame of mind?

15 Sep

The Nitrazepam worked last night. OK, I admit I was a bit bad and took 15mg instead of 10mg but combined with my other meds it did the trick and I got a full six hours of decent sleep. So I woke up in a slightly better mood and feeling that I did the right thing by handing all those tablets over to my GP yesterday.

The thoughts of self harming are still here, they come and go, but they aren’t as intense and I don’t feel like I am going to act on them. I was thinking a lot last night as I was trying to fall asleep about the future, and thinking that surely a time has to come where I get better? Because if I truly believed that there was no future for me then I would have ended it by now… not just made an attempt… but actually done it. So something somewhere in my head is telling me that there is something worth hanging on for. Maybe it’s my uni course, maybe deep in my subconscious I know I will get a career from it one day that I will enjoy and feel fulfilled by. And all morning I have been having these little positive flickers… and then it goes back to the negative ones… that I want to cut again. But I know if I cut again that it will be another bad one, and I know that the consequences of that are going to be that I am seen as unsafe and risk having them take the decisions away from me and put me back in hospital, something I cannot express enough that I really really do not want.

But I do understand that if they think I can’t keep myself safe then they need to take matters into their own hands, I just can’t allow that to happen. So every time my head starts wandering off into those thoughts of “just get a blade and do it” “just make one more cut, only one” I have to keep saying to myself that it isn’t worth it, I will end up in a&e and either they or when I see the psych on Wednesday will say enough is enough and use their powers to detain me because of the level of damage I’m inflicting upon myself.

So today is going to be a good day. I am going to make it be a good day no matter how bloody hard that is. I am going to go and make a nice lunch in a moment, then take the dogs for a long walk no matter how much my leg hurts, I have the option of going out with best friend and a couple of other girls tonight for some drinks but am currently trying to weigh up and pro’s and con’s of that.

The pro’s are: I could have a really nice time, it could be fun, I could enjoy myself, I could have a laugh, it would get me out the house and socialising, I might come home feeling in a good mood.

The con’s are: Alcohol is a depressant, I might not enjoy myself much and end up coming home feeling really bad. That may turn to low thoughts and because I’m a bit drunk I won’t be able to think clearly about not cutting and may end up doing it again. Also, if I drink I cannot take the Nitrazepam tonight. I’m not supposed to drink on any of my medications but occasionally I do have a night out and don’t want to miss a dose so just take them anyway and it hasn’t done me any harm yet. I tend to find the mix of alcohol and my meds makes me more sleepy so I just fall asleep as soon as I get home. But the Nitrazepam clearly states (several times) on the box that it must not be mixed with alcohol and I already take Diazepam, Quetiapine (seroquel) and Mirtazapine so to throw alcohol and nitrazepam into the mix might not be a very smart move.

So I have told best friend that I will get back to her later and let her know what I’m doing. For now I am going to make some lunch, a toasted bagel with ham and creamy chive cheese sounds yummy.

I just keep telling myself take it hour by hour and I’ll get through the day. I’ve been up since 7-ish and it’s now 1.30pm and I’ve made it through until now just by distracting myself, by trying to turn the negative thoughts into positive ones, and so far it is working. Whether I can do it all day and all night or all weekend still remains to be seen but right at this very moment I feel like I have a slightly more positive frame of mind.