Tag Archives: panicking

14:58 – The HIV test

11 Jun

Today I finally did something that I have been putting off for several months. As some of you may remember, back in August last year I was spiked with a drug known as PCP by an unknown male and then sexually assaulted. A week or two after it happened I went to the local sexual health clinic and had baseline bloods taken for the HIV/Hepatitis/Syphilis tests but I was told I would need to wait for three months before the HIV test could confirm whether or not I had become infected as a result of the assault. All of my initial blood tests and STD checks at that stage came back negative (so as of August 2012 I had all negative results) and then I was supposed to return to the sexual health clinic for the HIV test to be repeated, three months later, in December.

I didn’t go.

I have regularly had the thought pop into my head that I needed to get my bloods taken again but for some reason I just kept ignoring the thoughts. January, February, March, April and May all went by and I still didn’t go back to the clinic. In fact, any time I have found myself thinking about it recently I work myself up into such a state, convincing myself that these results are going to tell me I am HIV positive. I know the chances are extremely low but it only takes one time and if he is the sort of guy to drug rape a girl who knows what his sexual history is? I can only hope that he might have thought ahead about what kind of trouble he could get into and have used a condom at least so he didn’t leave his DNA trail behind.

Our sexual health clinic is only open on a Tuesday morning and for the last three Tuesday’s I have had my alarm go off at 8am, got ready to leave the house by 9am and then had the panic set in… I’d then change my mind about going and end up staying at home. This morning however I finally went. The doctor was really nice and I explained I hadn’t been back at the three month mark because I have utterly terrified myself that the test is going to be positive. She calmed me down by explaining that I was relatively low risk as all my tests done in August 2012 were negative and as I haven’t slept with anyone since the assault then there is only one person who I have been exposed to. And even if he did have something nasty it still doesn’t mean it would definitely have been passed onto me. Then she explained a bit about the HIV virus and told me that even when people do get a positive result it no longer means a ‘life sentence’ for them, that it can be managed very well with actually quite a small amount of medications and people still lead long and fulfilling lives.

So my bloods have been taken and I get the results at 9.30am next Tuesday. I am absolutely terrified, I can’t lie. Don’t get me wrong when I was younger I have had a few one night stands which weren’t always protected and then took myself off to the sexual health clinics in a panic in the days following it but my worries were never about things so serious as HIV or Hepatitis, I was more concerned about catching Chlamydia or something equally as treatable. The couple of times in my teens and early twenties where I had HIV tests done as part of a sexual health screening I never even gave those results a second thought, I always just (ignorantly) assumed they would be negative. Now, into my thirties, everything is the other way around. I’m terrified of the big ones and don’t give a second thought to anything which would be symptomatic because I know I don’t have any ‘symptoms’. But then it’s the quiet ones that have the potential to be the deadly ones…

I have a feeling it’s going to be a long seven days until I go for the results. I’m trying so hard not to think about it but I am thinking about it on every level and I can’t seem to stop. Even when I don’t think I’m thinking about it, somewhere at a subconscious level I am because I drift back into reality and there will be yet another article/story/video/forum to do with HIV or Hepatitis open on my laptop. It’s the ones that talk about their diagnosis coming as such a massive shock that really get to me. Their diagnoses shocked them so much because they were feeling so well and so healthy and had only exposed themselves by having unprotected sex just a couple of times. It just goes to show that it really can happen to anyone at any age and at any time in their life.

So now I guess I just have to wait and hope. I have debated whether or not to tell anyone that I’ve had the test done, I never imagined it to feel like such a massive weight on my shoulders and I fear I might drive myself crazy if I keep it all bottled up. Yet at the same time I don’t want to tell best friend or my Mum or anyone close to me. Maybe I will tell my Rape Crisis support worker when I see her on Thursday, I have talked about my fears of having the test done and she knows I’ve been putting it off for the past 5/6 months. She has offered in the past to come with me to get it done so maybe she’s the best person to get it all off my chest with. I might ask her if she can come with me next Tuesday morning to get the results as I kinda don’t want to be on my own even if there is a 99% chance of them coming back negative… I’ve convinced myself in every way possible that I will be that 1% who gets a positive result 😦

Anyway… I guess there is nothing I can do to change things now, the results will be what they will be…

Advertisements

17:43 – A little hint of normality

27 Nov

Well I’ll start by saying – I made it!

I woke up and straight away thought – fuck – I have to go and see the new CPN this morning. I must have been distracted when I got the letter as I had written on the calendar that it was at 10.30am but it was actually 10am. So I wake up, it’s 9am, I know I need to shower as it’s been about 3 days since I last had one, but I can’t face it. Or maybe I just can’t see the point. I feel a mess so I might as well look a mess as well. So I closed my eyes again and lay there trying to keep my breathing steady and my head calm.

The next time I looked at the clock it was 10am and with my stomach back in knots I got up, pulled some clothes on, put the dogs on their leads and even though my head was screaming at me not to go, to stay in the house, something else was screaming “if you miss this appointment there might not be another one, you need to go”.

Somehow I got there bang on 10.30am. When I got to the mental health building I was feeling sick with nervousness. She came in the room and could see I was really anxious, I must have been looking a bit of a mess as one of the first things she asked me was had I been crying. I hadn’t, my eyes must have just been a bit puffy. I tried to apologise to her for missing my last two or three appointments and then went into a bit of a ramble about these constant anxiety attacks, the inability to go outside in the day time, the inability to study, I told her it wasn’t just her I’d been hiding away from but had also not attended any of my other appointments or seen friends/family etc. She said it was OK and that she was glad I had turned up today but I was half an hour late, our appointment was 10am. Again I apologised, I genuinely thought it was 10.30 so she said she could only give me half an hour, but that was probably a good thing as it helped calm me down a bit knowing I would be out the appointment a lot sooner than I thought.

I don’t really know what we spoke about because my head was pretty unable to concentrate. I know I rambled for five or ten minutes. I know I mentioned the house swap to her and told her that even though I’m sure it’s what I want/need to have more of a healthy existence, I also told her the thought of moving house was now really scaring me as well. She spoke for a little while about the all the benefits moving house would have and I remember her telling me at one point that I would not forget the memories I need to hold onto, they would always be with me, but that I could let go of the bad ones by moving to a new house, a new start.

I’m sure we spoke about more than that but I can’t remember what about. The next thing I remember she was writing out an appointment card for next week. I’m still not sure what I think of her, well if I like her or not, but I’m guessing that’s due to the fact we’ve only spent a short time together but she seemed OK and I hope that I’ll be able to work well with her. I also told her I have an appointment next Wednesday with Mr Psychiatrist and I’m worried about being able to attend it. She said we would talk properly on Tuesday about it and try to calm things down a bit in my head then.

I tried to go onto auto-pilot when I left and got myself to the housing department. I tried to explain about the house exchange but there were a lot of people in the office and my words weren’t coming out right, I thought they were but they couldn’t have been because the woman didn’t seem to understand what I was rambling on about. She started directing me to a whole different department and I started getting frustrated that she just wasn’t understanding me “no I’m in the right place you just don’t get what I’m trying to say” so I went through it all again and finally she realised I was telling her that I wasn’t asking for ways to find someone to swap with, or how to make an advert online for someone to swap with, I have someone to swap with and want to know how to swap! She gave me a form that I need to fill out and one for the other girl so my next stop was her house (my new house?). She wasn’t home so I put the form through the letterbox for her.

It felt really weird standing there at her front door. I did pause for a second and looked at the little row of bungalows all joined together. I noticed that she was kind of in the middle of the row and had neighbours at either side, there is a little garden at the front and another little one at the back. I remember thinking that I’d need to put a little fence up so the dogs wouldn’t be able to escape. I probably looked a bit odd to any neighbours who noticed me as I just kinda stood there for five minutes or so and looked around at everything, trying to imagine me unlocking the door and going into ‘my’ house.

I don’t really know if I can picture myself living there quite yet. It all just felt really strange and unfamiliar.

So now it all pretty much hangs on this one piece of paper. I have to put my details on it, her details on it and sign it. She has to do the same. Then a housing officer visits each of us to check there is no damage to the property, make sure neither of us are in rent arrears, and make sure they think it’s a ‘suitable swap’. Once that’s done we will be asked into the housing office and will swap keys and tenancy agreements. She said it would take anywhere from about 4-6 weeks to process everything which lands us right on Christmas. So hopefully it will either be done before Christmas so we can both get settled into our new homes or they will wait until the Christmas holidays are over and do it then. If I am going ahead with this move the timing will work out quite well with regards to university work as I’ll be finished this module and be on holiday until the beginning of January so I can get internet connections and phone lines and stuff all sorted out when I’m not needing my laptop as much.

I don’t know if I would prefer to get it all rushed through before Christmas and just get it over with or if I would prefer to stay here through Christmas and make it a new year and a new start. This is all sounding rather like I’m going ahead with the swap isn’t it? See I know deep down it would be a better place to live for me, for the dogs, for my sanity. And I also know deep down that I’m really miserable living here. But it’s familiar, it’s what I know, it’s how I live and the change scares the utter crap out of me.

I was either on a roll by this point or really trying to put off studying as I decided to text the best friend and see if she was home. She was so I went out and spent an hour or so with her and the kids. It was nice seeing them again and she’s asked me to go for dinner tomorrow with them but I’ve told her I’ll get back to her in the morning. I also sent a text to rape crisis support worker and told her that I would like to see her again so we have arranged for tomorrow at 3pm.

So today I have:

  • Made it to my CPN appointment
  • Spoke to the housing department
  • Collected the right forms
  • Spent time with best friend and the kids
  • Made an appointment to see support worker again
  • Walked the dogs twice before it got dark

Today I got a little hint of normality again. The anxiety was still there and making itself known to me, but taking things one thing at a time and telling myself that I was in charge of making the choices, I could make contact with people and ask to see them or I could go home. I could choose. It didn’t matter which option I chose, I was in control and I regularly told myself that I could leave wherever I was and go home at any time. That seemed to help the anxiety a little saying “one step at a time” over and over to myself and also not staying in any one place for too long, an hour max and then changing my environment also felt like it helped.

When outside I was still avoiding eye contact with people and either looking at the frost on the ground or at the dogs but I did it and I guess that’s the important part. I actually feel like I’ve had a good amount of (freezing cold) fresh air and feel like the dogs have had a proper amount of exercise (they are both fast asleep!) and I have to admit it feels a lot better than hiding inside all day long and only going out at/during the night. I feel like I’ve achieved things today and whilst the anxiety has been there it’s been a little bit more manageable by taking things one step at a time.

I have two goals for tomorrow: attend my appointment with rape crisis support worker and have a shower before I go. My hair is disgusting and I don’t imagine I smell too great right now.

I guess today has been a more positive day. I am hoping that this is the start of me turning things back around again and that I am going to be able to attend my appointments and have day as day and night as night again. I really really hope the anxiety is going to ease off a little bit for me, I could so do with a calm few days where I can concentrate and get some of my work done without the crazies taking over me.

It was nice to see a little hint of normality again today, even if I don’t have a good day tomorrow at least I’ve had a tiny bit of a break from the intensity of everything today. I’ve battled through the day. Fingers crossed I can do the same tomorrow.

22:11 – So nervous about seeing new CPN tomorrow

26 Nov

It’s been a strange sort of day. I got to sleep relatively early last night which was good as I was awake throughout the daylight today, but I woke up incredibly anxious again this morning. That continued all morning and I kept trying to distract myself from it, I watched some old sitcoms on TV, I opened up some textbooks (but had no concentration and closed them again). I got my essay result back from the piece of utter crap I submitted a week or so ago that I would have marked as a fail but it passed with a C. Not great, but better than I thought it would get. So for our 3 smaller assessments I have passed one at a B, one with 35 out of 35 and one at a C. Now I just have to finish my coursework, do a shit load of reading and do the final ‘big’ essay with the hope I pass this module.

As I couldn’t concentrate and the anxiety was really getting to me I spontaneously decided to clean. So I scrubbed the kitchen, the overflowing pile of dishes have now been washed, all the surfaces have been cleaned and then I went and scrubbed the bathroom. Anyone who knows me will tell you I am useless when it comes to cleaning up, I hate it, I find it so boring and tedious and get no pleasure from it at all… but today I just impulsively felt like I had to clean up a bit.

After I did that I made a big decision. I was going outside today in the daytime. I was up and dressed by then, it was about noon, the dogs were looking at me with their puppy dog eyes so without giving myself a second to change my mind I put my jacket and boots on, put the dogs on their lead and went out.

And it was fucking horrible.

There were people everywhere. I had to walk past people and I could feel people looking at me, it felt like they were talking about me, I really really wanted to run back to the house but I kept going a bit further with my stomach in knots and feeling like I wasn’t breathing properly. I managed about fifteen minutes before I couldn’t take it any longer and the anxiety won – I speedily walked home with my head down.

At least the dogs got some fresh air and a run around.

I then dealt with another couple of hours of extreme anxiety, tried to distract myself by trying to do some reading again but it wasn’t happening. I washed some clothes and dried some others. I put the TV back on. The girl who I may be doing the house exchange with text me and told me she was going to go and speak to someone at the housing department about it and has got a form to fill in. I’m going (well my plan is to try and go) to the housing department myself tomorrow on my way back from seeing new CPN and see if they need me to fill anything out. The panicking started to spiral out of control during the texts back and forth and I finally had a good hard word with myself, told myself I was being pathetic, that there was no need to be getting myself into so much of a state, that if I want to stay here I only have to say no and if I want to move then the opportunity is looking like it’s there. I was actually speaking out loud to myself saying over and over that this is ridiculous and there was nothing to be so scared of.

Then, as if in some sort of test to myself, I pulled my jacket on and went to the supermarket. I walked around mostly looking at the floor, only looking up to see what I needed off the shelves, felt the anxiety rising as I got to the queue at the check out. My heart started doing that thing where it beats and you can hear it in your ears getting louder and louder then you can feel it beating in your throat. I felt like I was being watched by everyone and wanted to run from the queue, leave all my stuff right there and just run.

Somehow I forced myself to stay right where I was and then something made me look up. A familiar voice. My ex fiancé and his partner at the check out right next to me. It was so uncomfortable and my crazy head started going completely into overdrive at this point. All I could think about was how he was dressed all nice and she was in this nice dress and I was standing there in my jacket that really needs washed and no make up on and my hair scraped back and there I was panicking again, putting all my stuff into bags as quickly as possible, grabbing them, and walking as fast as I could back home.

I hate seeing him. But I live in a small town and it’s inevitable that I’m going to bump into him from time to time. I wish that it got easier with all this time that’s passed but it doesn’t. Just knowing I have to see him that one day each year on the little one’s anniversary is more than enough. It still hurts when I see them together even though my love for him is long gone. But yeah, I’m probably still bitter, even now when I see her I get little flashes of her back on that day close to 4 years ago now when she was jumping out my fiancé’s bed half dressed. That older, married mother of two, a boss in the company he worked for, her husband was our friend, and there they were… having an affair without a care for anyone but themselves.

Anyway, enough about that. I got home, I again began to panic, I tried again to study and after 3 attempts today I decided to give up for the rest of the day and try again tomorrow. This evening since about 7pm I’ve just been watching TV, trying to watch happy programs, funny ones, comedies… trying everything I can think of to try and keep the crazies at bay for a little while longer. And I’ve just managed another walk with the dogs but it was dark, quiet and cold and I coped with it a lot better than the two other times I’ve been out in public today.

And now it’s getting late again and coming to the end of another day. And the anxiety is beginning to rise inside me again because I have this appointment with the new CPN tomorrow morning and I know she’s going to ask me why I ignored the last two appointments and I don’t have a reason for her other than that I’ve been really suffering badly with anxiety and been pretty much housebound in the daytimes, that I can’t even deal with a phone call when I’m like that and that I’m sorry I didn’t get in contact. That is, if I actually make it to this appointment. I have a feeling she may not offer me any more appointments if I miss the third one as well so I’m thinking I have to go and if I’m an anxious mess then she’ll just need to see me as an anxious mess and see for herself how bad it is. But whilst I can think like that, I can also think about how much I really don’t want someone that I’ve met once to see me pacing up and down, holding my stomach when it starts churning and going in knots, taking my jacket off as I get hot flushes, the urgency to get out of the environment I’m in and come back to my safe place.

Whilst I wasn’t sure what to make of the new CPN the first time I met her I guess I have to give her a chance? I wasn’t sure what I made of the last CPN the first time I met her but she turned out to be quite nice in the end. Maybe this one will too, I just have to get there and see her to find that out. Ugh. Twelve hours to go and it will be appointment time. I guess it’s good that it’s early in the morning, even though the anxiety seems to already be there, waiting on me to wake up, at least I don’t have to sit about all day working myself up about it and can just get up (try and have a shower) put some clothes on and just go. I just keep telling myself even if I can only manage ten minutes before having to say to her that I’ve had enough and want to leave, I just need to get there and see her and maybe I’ll be able to get her to understand how much I’m struggling right now.

And if I manage that appointment then on my way home I will pop into the housing department and see what the next step is in doing a house exchange. Ugh, my stomach is going all funny just thinking about having to see and talk to two different people and both in the day light. I did it today, not the talking to anyone part but the going out part, I can do it again tomorrow, right?

*Positive Thinking*

Goodnight folks xx

17:26 – Just fucking crazy

1 Aug

Things really aren’t good at the moment. I feel like everything is too much and I can’t deal with it all. I so want to be positive and think I can do this college course but something deep inside is saying that I can’t do it, I’m not strong/clever/intelligent enough. I find myself just sitting here thinking that nothing makes any great deal of sense, I know what I want but I don’t have enough faith in myself that I can achieve it all.

I am in a huge amount of debt to my parents, I am 30 years old and they still have to bail me out every time I fuck something else up. I am still living in this one room and bills seem to be hitting me left right and centre. I wake up and am not even sure that I’m actually here, I have to like pinch myself to see if I’m actually alive. Today I walked the dogs in a complete daze, I picked up my weekly prescription and tried to sort out the ongoing saga with my boiler that keeps blowing fuses. My phone kept ringing from the gas people who keep saying they are going to disconnect me if I do not pay my bill. I paid a bit of it off last week, I paid a bit more of it off today, I had to borrow yet more money from my parents… Fuck is any of this actually making any sense because it’s not to me.

Let me try and put things into some sort of an order.

Firstly my boiler keeps breaking down. It was brand new fitted in February and I had no problems with it until last week when it blew a fuse. Then it got fixed then it blew again. The housing association whom I rent my flat through then had to debate whether to get the manufacturer to pay for the part as it is still under warranty or whether to get a local company to get the part. Anyway I don’t know what they have decided, all I know is I have no central heating or hot water. And they aren’t going to be able to permanently fix it until tomorrow at the earliest, they phoned me today to say it might even take until Monday – how the fuck am I supposed to manage with no heating or hot water for almost a week??

Whilst this is going on, I have the gas company chasing me for money for my first bill that I hadn’t paid on time. Every morning letters coming in saying they are going to disconnect me – it’s fucking broken anyway I don’t even have any gas! So I paid a bit of the bill last week and paid more today, for which I had to ask my parents for a loan of money. Pathetic at 30 I still need my parents to bail me out.

I’ve not been able to leave the house properly for the past few days because they keep saying they might be round to fix my boiler then never appear. Today they finally confirmed they wouldn’t have the part needed until tomorrow at the earliest. I know I am repeating myself a lot here but I need to write it all out.

My Dad said he would come down next weekend to paint my flat for me so it will be all freshly painted as and when they come to do a housing inspection for my housing transfer that I am still waiting for and still seem no closer to getting.

College course. Everyone saying they are so proud of me. People saying I am getting better. I’m not, my head is fucked. Boilers breaking, not knowing when they are going to fix it, hating having workmen coming and going from my flat and being in my space. Letters from people saying I owe money to them, I have no money, I borrow money from my parents and have no idea when I will ever be able to repay it. I try and pay little bits to everyone so they all have something but the total balances never seem to clear. I have a week to go until I get my next lot of benefits money and already it is all paid out on bills. It’s a never ending cycle of debt and misery.

I try and blank it out and go get myself ridiculously drunk. Because alcohol is really going to help right? And then I feel ill and messed up and hungover and back to that place where nothing makes any sense. Back to that place where I think I am unable to achieve anything and constantly doubt my ability to do this college course that hasn’t even fucking started yet. Worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet. Crazy thoughts, constantly.

I pack a bag and decide I want them to cart me away because I can’t cope any more and then realise I can’t go back down that path again, so instead I sit and cry. Again, nothing makes sense to me, the phone rings, people want things from me, people want to see me and I can’t leave the house. I am trapped by my own craziness. It’s all so fast and so random and so nonsensical.

Why can’t it just be an easy list like:

  • Boiler needs repaired
  • Flat needs painted
  • I have debts to take care of
  • I need a housing transfer
  • I am starting a college course

They all blend into one, they all mix up, I am left feeling crazy and start having the crazy thoughts. That I shouldn’t be here, that I’m not even here, that my life is just pretence. Then I pinch myself and sure enough I am here, I am alive, I am living in this mess. Living, surviving, not coping. But trying to appear as though I am coping so superbly well to those around me. Wanting people to be proud of me even though I don’t think I’m going to be able to achieve the things I have to do to make them proud.

See, this post makes no sense, it’s all mixed up and back and forth and that is how my head is. A complete rollercoaster of emotions. Up down, up down, inside out, outside in. Wanting to achieve but no faith. Trying to keep these companies happy and live on next to no money. A diet that consists of bread and beans most days. Borrowing from my parents just to get by for another few days. Cold, no heating. Workmen invading my space. Fixing things then things breaking again. Always needing to come back, I don’t want them back I want them to fix it for real then fuck off out my space.

I get a slap of reality that I am here. I am alive. I am existing. This is my life. I hate it. I want out. I don’t know where to turn. I don’t know how to feel ok again. Everything feels out of control, how do I get it back under control? What happened in the past few weeks where everything was so positive to ending up like this?

Life is fucking crazy. Too crazy. Back to looking for ways to self medicate myself through this for another 24 hours. Falling apart, pulling myself back together. Not having a fucking clue where it’s all going or when it’s going to stop. Voices? Are they back? I’m sure I hear them. Do I hear them? I don’t know. I hear something. I don’t know what is real anymore.

13:54 – Massive huge bridesmaid anxiety

16 Apr

I popped up to my Mums last night and she said she wanted to have a word with me. My cousin (my only female cousin, she’s the same age as me but I get jealous because she has the man, the great job, the baby, the house, the car, etc) -in other words we grew up together as ‘equals’ and now I feel pretty shit that at the age of 30 she has achieved so much and me, so little. Anyway, back to the point. Mum said to me that my cousin really wants me to be her bridesmaid. She is getting married in November and lives about 250 miles away from me. At the moment (when my agoraphobia is having a good day) I can travel about 60 miles of the coastal road. I cannot remember the last time I was on a motorway/highway. It must have been when I was in the back of the ambulance losing my little boy.

So I have google mapped every possible route from my house to my cousins house and I now I am panicking so bad. We always said as kids we would have each other as bridesmaid and when I was engaged she was my first choice as bridesmaid which of course she said yes to!

So here’s my problems:

  • From an agoraphobic point of view I really don’t think I can do 250 miles in any form of transport.
  • I have absolutely no body confidence and it will mean wearing a dress.
  • My arms and legs have nasty scars – how do I hide them? My cousin is a doctor so I could maybe explain that bit to her.
  • If I make a commitment now then it’s an actual commitment, not one that I can get myself into so much of a panic about that I can back out from at the last minute.
  • She knows I was diagnosed with bipolar but she doesn’t know about all the voices etc that I have no control over and can randomly just fuck me up
  • It’s 7 months away. I don’t know what or if I’ll have dinner tonight let alone what I’ll be doing in 7 months. I might not even be here in 7 months.
  • Ah fuck, I just cannot do it, there is no point in pretending I can. It’s going to be yet another family gathering that I couldn’t attend, where my face is missing from the photo’s, a day that’s going to make me feel like shit that I couldn’t be there for her….
  • Another day to remind me just how fucking useless I am in normality and yet how I can succeed so well at being fucking mental.

14:43 – So freaking scared

5 Apr

I have my CPA meeting in just over an hour. My Mum is picking me up in an hour. I am still not dressed and am so fucking scared about going. The anxiety is ridiculously bad at the moment, my stomach is churning, I feel sick, my palms are sweating, I’m roasting hot and my heart seems to be beating super fast. I have taken my morning Citalopram and Quetiapine, I have also taken 20mg Diazepam but so far nothing is bringing the panic down. I really really do not want to go to it.

As far as I know the only people going are myself, the social worker, the community addictions nurse, the psychiatrist and my Mum. I think someone from a&e has also been invited but have no idea if anyone will come. I hate speaking about the voices in front of so many people, my Mum still doesn’t even know about getting my legs stitched up or me writing stuff about Satan all over me with a knife. What the fuck is she/they going to think when she hears it all?

I’m completely bricking myself here, all the excuses as to why I can’t go are zooming around my head, I want to just let them all go do it without me but I know I need to be there. I know there’s no getting out of it, no matter how bad the anxiety feels I have to face this.

I spoke to the addictions nurse on the phone yesterday afternoon just to touch base with her before this meeting and to apologise for not attending any appointments in the past month. I told her my head has been crazy; she used to be a psych nurse before she starting working for the addictions team. She encouraged me to turn up today and suggested I wrote down the key things I wanted to get sorted out but my head is totally blank.

So far all the sheet of paper says is ‘I can’t handle appointments’

I really don’t know if I’m going to make it there today.

😦

19:54 – Fucking nurses

29 Mar

I had to go up to the hospital A&E department today to have my stitches taken out. I had a friend with me at the hospital who knew I was getting stitches out because of self harm. So he sat in the waiting room while I went through. It was the same nurse that I saw on both Friday and Sunday. When she was taking the stitches out she saw I had cut some words on my skin, I did as Satan asked last night and wrote various phrases. It was only shallow, just scratches.

She asked me if the CMHT had been in touch with me and told me she definitely left an answer phone message on Sunday night. I told her that no they hadn’t phoned. She said she was going to get dressings for my leg and would be back in a minute. One minute turned to five, I started feeling anxiety sweep over me, my head started screaming “just put your jeans and shoes on and get the fuck out of here” but I felt physically frozen with fear. I got my phone out my bag and text my friend in the waiting room telling him I was scared as the nurse had been away for ages and I was beginning to panic as I didn’t know what was going on. Another five minutes passes and the nurse comes back. She tells me she has just phoned the CMHT, she hoped I didn’t mind but she was concerned about me, and a couple of people would be over shortly to see me. I felt myself completely tense up then asked her to get my friend and let him sit with me.

He came in and I quickly told him that someone was coming over to talk to me and that he had to tell them that he was going to stay with me tonight because I was terrified I wasn’t coming home but going up to the psych hospital again. Within minutes these two men appear and the nurse asks me if I want her to come in as well. I say yes please. I don’t think I have met these people before but one of the men tells me he has met me once before. The other tells me he is a nurse. A CPN I assume. They ask how I am feeling, I tell them fine. They ask my friend how he thinks I am. He says he thinks I am fine. My friend then tells them he is going to stay with me for the next few days to keep an eye on me. He isn’t, but these words seem to make them happy.

They bring out a copy of my crisis plan and ask me if I want a copy for tonight, I say no thank you. I know what is written on it. They tell me they are aware I haven’t attended any of my appointments for several weeks. I nod my head to confirm this is the case. They ask me if I will attend an appointment tomorrow with one of them and my social worker. And then they ask my friend if he will come as well. He agrees. I agree. The nurse asks if he has a commitment from me that I won’t put myself in any danger tonight. I nod my head. He says I can go. I leave the hospital and can breathe again.

My friend came back here for a little while and says he will come down at noon tomorrow so that gives us half an hour to get to the appointment. I apologised to him for dragging him into my mentalness but he said it was OK. He said several times that I had better open my door to him tomorrow and go to the appointment or I’m going to end myself back up in hospital. I told him I will never go back to that hospital.

Anyway, now my head is going a million miles an hour and I want to cut badly, I need to get all this pent up craziness out of me but I know I can’t cut deep because I can’t end up at the hospital again and arghhh it’s all just frying my brain.

I just want to be left alone, I feel intimidated and scared because I know if I put one foot wrong they will take control of things again and that cannot happen.

Completely off topic, I noticed this which was nice: http://www.healthline.com/health-slideshow/best-bipolar-blogs#3

The writer says:

Reading My Crazy Bipolar Life is like peeking into a private diary that holds the open-hearted tale of a rollercoaster life. Inside you discover the thoughts and feelings, successes and failures, and predicaments and positive experiences of a woman with bipolar disorder, winding her way through life with mental illness.

Readers with bipolar disorder no doubt find a kindred spirit here, along with the reassurance that comes with knowing they are not alone. For those without a diagnosis, reading this blog is an educational glimpse into the world of life with bipolar disorder.

🙂

17:56 – I just can’t do this

24 Mar

Best friend has been phoning me all afternoon. Then she starts with the “please talk to me” text messages. Then she phones again. Everytime my ringtone starts up my heart starts to palpitate, words come out quietly even though I’m trying to sound ‘normal’. Anyway, I finally answered the phone and listened to her tell me about her drunken antics from last night, I just seemed to sit there totally blank until I realised she had finished speaking and was waiting on me to say something. What was the question? Heart speeds up a bit. My mind searches for the last words she said… Then I hear her ask if I’m still there and I want to hit the ‘end call’ button so badly but I mumble ‘yeah I’m still here’.

“So are we going out then?” (ah, that was the question) Go out? Are you fucking crazy? “Um I don’t think I can” I reply. And then follows ten minutes of a lecture about how I am never going to get better by sitting in the house and never seeing anyone. How I need to get out and meet people and “enjoy life”. I reply to her stating that if she was sitting here with a stitched up leg and voices telling her she was being controlled by fucking Satan then she wouldn’t want to do much either. And then comes the “oh why didn’t you tell me?” speech – why didn’t I tell her things were so bad I’d resorted to cutting again?

By this point my head is already spinning. I now have to sit and listen to the “the voices aren’t real” speech to which I state they are indeed real which moves her on to the “if you sit there believing all your thoughts you are going to wake up and find out that ten years has passed and you have achieved nothing other than to have sent yourself completely crazy” speech.

(I think the above has already happened in the last ten years of my life…)

Anyway.

She carries on trying to convince me I need a night out, I need a few drinks, I need to socialise. I tell her that I really cannot handle the thought of being around so many people. I say I’m sorry. I suggest she could ask someone else to go out with her? She replies “I want to go out with you” – “I want to go out with my best friend” Does she mean this or are we now on the guilt trip speech?

I start the big crazy scramble of thoughts where my brain is reeling off one excuse after the other as to why I cannot go out tonight.

“I have no clothes, they are all still in boxes”

“I cannot be around people, I’m sorry”

“I don’t have enough money”

“I don’t think alcohol would be good for me right now”

“My leg hurts”

“Look, every fucking person out there will fuck up my head”

“I can’t shower properly, I can’t get my stitches wet”

“I know you just want a night out with me, I know I’ve not been around much”

“OK I will go and have a shower and see if I can find clothes”

“Speak to you in an hour, bye”

Now I am supposed to be going out? I am supposed to be in a shower right now and finding clothes and getting “motivated”. What the fuck is motivated? I cannot do motivation right now. Why did I back down? She now thinks she is going out with me and is going to phone back expecting me all showered and smelling lovely and I am still going to be sitting in this very spot panicking.

How do you say – “I just can’t do this” ?

13:05 – Running away from the hospital

2 Nov

I better put a trigger warning here – self harm stuff below.

 

Yesterday was pretty horrendous for me. I was feeling extremely low with constant noise inside my head, being instructed on what to do next. I managed to distract myself on Monday night on Twitter but then I wrote the post below about wanting to cut my throat…I managed to avoid doing it that night…but then yesterday morning things just got worse and worse. By lunch-time I couldn’t take it anymore and went for the stanley knife box. Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom and holding the blade against my neck was sending the fucking weirdest of rushes through my body. Fear maybe? I don’t know. All I know is I made one quick cut and watching blood drip down my neck scared the shit out of me. I went for the second cut and my hands were shaking, my head screaming at me to do it but I couldn’t. I was a coward and in anger cut deep and hard, aggressively, on my arm. Then I broke down in tears.

I phoned my social worker. I phoned my Mum. This was me in some sort of way trying to follow my crisis plan. Mum came round and I was in floods of tears, nothing was making sense, all I could say to her was that I was a failure, a shit daughter, they would all be better without me being here. All I do is cause stress to everyone. I needed to die and leave them all to live their lives. I needed to be with my baby again.

Social worker turns up not long after and brings a CPN with her. They look at my arm and decide I need to go to a&e. We go to a&e with me saying over and over again that I was coming straight back home afterwards, no hospitals, not this time. I never want to go back up into that place. Been there done it and worn the t-shirt too many times now. So in a&e I’m asked do I want it sutured or glued and steri-stripped. Funnily enough it was starting to hurt like a bastard and I opted for my usual – glue.

But then social worker tells me the doctor wants to speak to me. Alarm bells go off in my head. All I can hear is the voices screaming at me get the fuck out of there, they will section me, then the voices laughing because I was being weak, I was letting them keep me sitting there, I was letting them (all three of them) tell me I had to comply to a safety plan. I didn’t want to comply to anything I just wanted to go home. They said I had too many blades and pills to come home and be safe. They didn’t want me to come home. Social worker saw I was getting worked up and asked if I wanted to go and have a cigarette and calm down. I jumped at the chance and the second I was out the main doors I ran.

It’s funny how unfit I can feel when I’m carrying a week’s worth of shopping up a few flights of stairs but when you know you have to get away, when the voices are egging you on screaming run faster run faster I seemed to have endless energy. I was sweating like mad but I didn’t care I just kept going. I must have covered 3 or 4 miles over the next hour or so, hiding, voices telling me the police would be looking for me, everyone would be looking for me, they would all know I was running, even total strangers. Finally I stopped running and tried to think where I could go. I couldn’t go home, they would find me there. Then I thought of a friend that nobody knew where she lives and went there, grabbing a bottle of wine en-route. She let me hide out in there for a couple of hours and after a couple of glasses of wine I used her phone to call my Mum and let her know I was safe. She told me that social worker had tried to get the police to look for me but they refused because I hadn’t been detained. It was then I knew it was safe to come home.

So I raided the cupboards collecting every item of medication that I could – why am I such a hoarder? – until I had what I considered to be as close to a fatal combination as I could get. Then I started popping the pills whilst crying my eyes out again. Sitting with my photo album on my lap just looking at all my memories and crying and swallowing. The voices telling me I was doing the right thing, my heart telling me I was going to completely destroy my parents if I ended my life. The voices laughing saying no one will even notice I’m gone. I exhausted myself half way through all my pills and through all the tears and just sat back for a moment, trying to get a grip of the situation. All I could see was a perfect window of opportunity, the dogs were at my Mum’s, no one would find me, this was my chance just to do it and be at peace once and for all. But I kept seeing my Mum’s face in my head and everything went so fucked up.

I cried myself to sleep.

I did speak to social worker late last night. She said she was going to get me an appt to see Mr Psychiatrist today but I told her there was no point as I would be dead. She said she was going to trust me that I wouldn’t be dead because deep down she knows I don’t want to die. I’m not sure that’s true. If I have to live like this then yes I definitely want to end my life but it’s the pain and suffering I would cause others (this is my rational mind talking now) that stops me going too far. If I could live voice-free and build a life for myself again then yes, of course I want to live. But it’s been so many years now, too many years of feeling this way and nothing ever changes for long. Everything I try I fail at or screw up.

It’s now past 1pm and I haven’t heard from social worker about any appointments even though she said she’d phone in the morning. Maybe she thinks I am dead. I wish I was because I feel dreadful, I’ve vomited a couple of times this morning and just feel extremely anxious at the moment because I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I am a disgusting mess, it’s now Wednesday and I haven’t showered since Saturday. I can’t find the energy nor see the point to being clean, being disgusting and filthy is how the voices want me to remain because it’s what I deserve. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, I’m definitely not phoning them because I am convinced if I see Mr Psychiatrist they are going to section me but equally I have ran out of medication and am supposed to be increasing my Olanzapine dose today. The voices are out of control and sending me out of control. I want to cut, I want to pop every remaining pill but my anxiety is so bad I’m shaking at the thought of it.

What happens now? I have no idea.

Protected: 13:17 – Doctor in 2 hours and shit scared

3 May

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below: