Tag Archives: paranoid

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)


19:12 – The lid finally blew… and resulted in a trip to A&E…

17 Jan

[Warning – talk of self harm in this post]


Sorry this might be a bit of a rant and probably a really long post but my head is going crazy and I’m still shaking and crying. Today has been a day from hell and the pressure cooker lid finally blew off. It started off when I got up this morning and there was a letter there for me from the housing association from whom I rent my flat. They sent everyone a letter a couple of weeks ago saying there was evidence of dog fouling in the communal garden area and that they were going through a “process of elimination in order to find out who was responsible”. Out of the 12 flats in my block there are only four dog owners so I threw the letter in the bin and didn’t think any more about it knowing that I wasn’t responsible.

Until I got the letter this morning. The letter says:

Dear MCBL,

After a process of elimination I am led to believe that you are allowing your 2 dogs to foul in the communal areas at [my address]. Please note that dog fouling is an offence and, as a responsible owner, you can be prosecuted. The Dog Fouling Act makes it an offence for a person in charge of a dog who fails to immediately remove the faeces the dog makes guilty of an offence under the Act. The offence carries a fixed penalty fine of £40 rising to £500.

Yours sincerely,

Nasty Housing Association Woman.


I sat there reading it and burst into tears. Why the fuck am I being blamed for it? And it’s most definitely aimed at me as I’m the only person who has 2 dogs. I kept reading those words “process of elimination” and “led to believe you are…” and got so anxious. All I could think was that everyone in all the other flats must have been talking about me. Then I remembered back to a few weeks ago and all I could think about was this little ball thing that had appeared on the ceiling, just next to where the door is that opens into the communal area, I even pointed it out to my Mum and asked her what she thought it was. I said to her that I thought it was a camera spying on who was coming in and out of that door and it made me feel really paranoid every time I had to go past it to put my rubbish out. Mum said that as it was outside an elderly disabled man’s house it was maybe some sort of sensor if he had one of those personal alarm things. She told me I was just being paranoid. So I tried to believe her and then after a few days I noticed it had disappeared again so I just kinda forgot about it.

But when I got the letter today the same question kept going round and round in my mind. What was this “process of elimination” they had used? It couldn’t have been by going round and talking to each resident one by one because they never came to speak to me. And the whole thing feels horribly personal because my dogs are my babies and if anyone says anything bad about them I do get offended (and angry) 😦

So I kept thinking back to that thing on the ceiling and tried typing into google phrases like “ceiling cameras” “ball shaped cameras” etc until I finally found a whole page of what I was looking for. Dome cameras they are apparently called and they look like this:




You can see the camera inside that one but because it was on the ceiling and the ceilings are around 10 feet high it just looked like a little dark ball thing. So now I am convinced that they secretly filmed everyone coming in and out of the communal area for a while and I do use that door quite a lot because it leads to a little path that is a short cut to the shops. Have they been filming me, spying on me, watching me, talking about me? Have I been the person (with dogs) who has come in and out of that door the most? I don’t know. I took some Diazepam because I was getting myself into a real mess and then composed an email to the person who sent me the letter. This is the email that I sent:

Dear [nasty woman who made me cry]

I’ve just received your letter about dog fouling at [my address]. You say in this letter that after a “process of elimination” you believe that I am responsible for allowing my two little dogs to “foul the communal areas”. I am sitting here in tears with anger as quite simply you are putting the blame onto me for something I haven’t even done.

[A ramble about the other dog owning neighbours who could be responsible but it goes on for about 1000 words then ends with…]

I have lived in this flat for over six years and in that time there have been many letters about dog fouling, people dumping rubbish and furniture and stuff and I can assure you that I am well aware of all of the rules. I am an honest person and if I was responsible I would be emailing you just now to apologise and assure you it wouldn’t happen again. But I am not the person responsible and your letter has now made me incredibly anxious that if future dog fouling is discovered then I am going to be the person blamed. You already know from previous emails (when I was making my application for a housing transfer) that I suffer from severe mental health problems and receiving a letter telling me that I’m responsible for something that I could be prosecuted for, has left me in quite an emotional mess.

I’m sorry this email is so long but I want to know (a) how you reached the decision that I was responsible (b) if there is further dog fouling in the future will I automatically be blamed? and (c) how do I prove to you that I am not the person responsible for this?

Thank you,

So now I wait to see if she writes back and tells me they put up a hidden camera and have been watching me. I didn’t mention anything about the possible camera in my email to her because I want to see what reason they come back with to tell me how they reached the decision that I am responsible for this. I don’t think they have done anything wrong by putting a camera up to monitor who was coming in and out of that area, but it didn’t look like a camera and there was no warning notice about CCTV being used, and it was in my opinion a camera that was disguised. Again, they are probably allowed to do this as they own the building, but wouldn’t anyone who suffers from paranoia probably start freaking out a bit if they thought they had been being filmed without knowing?

So basically that was the final straw. I sent the email then kept looking at the letter over and over getting more and more wound up that everyone is talking about me behind my back; about how desperately I wanted to move out of here then became too anxious about it all and decided to redecorate to try and make this feel like some sort of home again and just as things were starting to settle a tiny little bit, here I am feeling terrified to walk out my front door in case I bump into any of my neighbours and I keep thinking what if they have all been told that they are holding me responsible for it…

By the time it got to about 3pm I was just a mess. I kept bursting into tears, cuddling my little dogs and telling them that they were still my babies even if nasty housing woman is saying bad things about them, the paranoid thoughts that they have been filming me and talking about me were spinning round and round and round…and… I just lost it.

Before I knew what I was doing I had a blade in my hand and had carved deep angry cuts into my skin. There was blood everywhere and two of the cuts were very deep and gaping open wide. I knew it had gone too far and I was going to need stitches so I just kept cutting and cutting until I finally dropped the blade, sat back and burst into tears again.

I tied a bandage around the wounds and the reality of what I’d just done began to set in. I knew that if I went up to A&E around 4pm then there would be a good chance they would phone the mental health team and I didn’t want to see any CPN’s or anything. So I waited until almost 5pm when the mental health team close and then went to the hospital. I couldn’t stop shaking as I went into A&E, scared of which nurses/doctors would be on shift yet desperately hoping it would be one of the nurses who knows me and would just treat the wound and let me go.

A man who I haven’t seen before (he turned out to be the doctor on shift) asked me to fill out a form then he took me through to the treatment room with a nurse. I have met the nurse a couple of times before and she has always been really nice and non-judgemental. The doctor was asking me what I’d done to myself to have ended up with cuts on my leg and I completely froze with anxiety. I didn’t know where to look and just wanted to run out of the door. The nurse asked me if I’d self harmed and I nodded and stared at the floor feeling so ashamed of myself. She asked me to lie up on the bed and let her have a look. I couldn’t even look as I exposed inch by inch of flesh with words written all over me with a knife… and then we got to the bandage and out the corner of my eye I watched the doctor’s face change as he saw the two worst wounds. He kept asking me questions and I just couldn’t answer him. He said he was going to phone the mental health team even though I shook my head and said no when he asked if that would be OK. But he came back five minutes later to say nobody was answering the phone at the mental health team so they left a voicemail or something instead.

He started cleaning me up and the nurse went out the room. He said he wanted to have a little chat with me whilst he stitched me up. This consisted of him asking a lot of questions and me staring at the floor and not answering. I only opened my mouth when I heard the “assessment questions” starting – “do you feel better now you’ve cut? Are you going to do it again? Do we need to keep you here to keep an eye on you? Are you feeling like you want to end your life?” etc etc etc… I shook my head and said no, I wouldn’t do it again tonight. The nurse came back and gave me 2 mg Lorazepam to calm me down a bit, even though the doctor kept saying that 2 mg would “knock me out”… Erm… No… They calm the anxiety a lot better than Diazepam but don’t make me sleepy. Anyway he gave me an appointment card to go back up to A&E on Saturday for a wound check and dressing change and then the stitches will come out in 7-10 days. He wished me good luck and reminded me I could go up there and see them if I began to feel like hurting myself again. I tried my hardest to force a little smile and say thank you.

From there it was just me and the nurse. She put some glue and steri-strips on the cuts that weren’t bad enough to need stitched and she talked and talked and talked. Maybe the doctor asked her to because I wouldn’t speak to him or maybe she was just trying to be nice. I don’t know. But I sat there in silence and she kept asking me how I was feeling, what I was going to do when I got home, was there anyone I could go and spend some time with, was there anything they could do for me and after me not replying to any of that she gave me a kinda sympathetic smile and said that she knew that I wasn’t OK and asked me if I’d like to just sit and have a chat to her. I said thank you but I’d be fine.

Then when I had all my clothes back on and was about to leave she said “are you 100% sure you don’t want a chat?” and out of nowhere my mouth opened and the words started coming out… the letter… the paranoia… the voices… the dogs and how they are my babies… the pressure cooker… the disappointment people would feel if they found out I’d cut again after all this time of not doing it… this time of year just being really hard as the weeks lead up to my little man’s anniversary…

It all poured out but quietly and with very little eye contact. Standing staring at my feet and just rambling on to her. It was only for a few minutes but then I started thinking “what the fuck am I doing?! don’t tell her about all the head crazies… just get out of here!” and so I went from rambling quietly to leaving the hospital in a bit of a hurry.

How do I feel now that the lid has finally blown and I’ve given myself another few scars to hate? I don’t know. That’s the honest answer. In one way I feel a little calmer but that could well be the Lorazepam, I still feel extremely paranoid and the head crazies are coming out with all sorts of random quotes but I’m trying really really hard to ignore them and just hope that my head can quieten down enough so that I can get through this evening with no further damage. To be honest I just feel both scared and relieved. Relieved that the lid finally blew and I got the huge urges to self harm out of my system… but scared that I’m now going to start sliding towards the slippery slope again… scared that I’m losing control… scared that I am so adamant that no one will find out about this except from my GP and CPN…

Sorry, this was one very long ramble, guess I had a lot to get off my chest. It’s now almost 7 pm and I’m going to try and just watch TV or something for a couple of hours then take my medication early and then lie down in a dark room until I finally sleep.

I hope tomorrow will be a better day but I will no doubt receive an email back from the housing association woman and regardless of what it says I know seeing the words of why she believes I am responsible are sure to upset me again.

I don’t know what else to say…

[/end of rant]


19:01 – And it’s all fucked up again

6 Dec

Mood: Shit

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

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

Personal Hygiene: Fail

Studying: Not Completed

Essay Writing: Not Started

Accomplishments Today: None

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

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

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

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



14:57 – Itchy, scratchy, suspicious brain

22 Oct

I’m having a really hard time concentrating at the moment, my head slips off into little daydreams constantly, I become irritated when I know I have to sit and read a certain chapter of a book. This is uni reading week and there is another assignment at the end of it and I don’t even have a clue what I’m supposed to be reading about because of my itchy, scratchy brain.

There are too many random racing thoughts going through my head. I have never considered myself to be a jealous person before and I have no real reason to be jealous. But I noticed a couple of days ago that best friend had added my ex onto her facebook, she keeps leaving him little comments with kisses after them, and now he is doing the same to her. Why does she always need to do that? She sees that I am now friends with someone and so (if it’s a man) the next thing I see is that she and him are now friends. From little things she’s written on his page she’s clearly flirting with him… but she has like 3 different guys on the go that she is always flirting with by text. Now my suspicious little brain imagines they have swapped numbers and are chatting away behind my back. And yes, I am talking about the ex who came to visit a couple of weekends ago and ended up in the car crash. And yes I did mention somewhere in that post that some old feelings had come back, and yes, best friend knows this.

I go on Facebook and just sit and stare. Watching the interactions taking place between two people. Thinking how blindingly obvious it is that they are having a little flirt (and I don’t mean I want any more than friendship with him) but it gets to me. It gets to me because she has everything. And yet everything isn’t enough. She has her pick of what guy she wants, she has two beautiful children, she has a nice figure, pretty face, tall, blond…. all the guys fancy her…. it’s just the way it’s always been. Plus she is only young, like 23 or something and I’m 31 this coming weekend. So now I’m thinking is the fact they are both single parents the common ground? Is that why they constantly seem to be chatting away online together? But she has another guy, in fact two other guys who are both single dad’s… so that’s 3 single dad’s altogether that she flirts with, sleeps with, texts constantly, etc.

I’ve noticed he’s stopped texting me… Actually she’s been pretty quiet too…

They think I don’t know, don’t notice, don’t pick up on things, but I do. And it all goes into that constantly thinking and over-analysing brain of mine and adds into all those racing thoughts. I feel like just phoning her and hitting her straight out with it… but then I’m going to look like some crazy jealous bitch aren’t I…

Why does this have to be yet another thing to go into my itchy scratchy suspicious brain? Why can’t it just shut up and close off…

Oh yeah, today was meant to be the day I met (old) CPN and (new) CPN together and be handed over to new CPN to work with from now on. But the receptionist called this morning to say old CPN is off sick so someone will phone me later in the week instead.

It’s just after 3pm and I haven’t managed to go out today, well I went out at 7am with the dogs. I have stayed in all day long because I think my next door neighbour has finally been evicted and they put his door through this morning then fixed a notice to the outside of it and changed the locks. I sat behind my peep hole in my door with my heart pounding that they were going to start knocking in my door next. I don’t know why I thought that, I was just feeling very paranoid.Now I keep wondering who they are going to move into his flat, will it be someone I have to watch or will they be watching me? I don’t like it when things change that I have no control over and have to go through the whole sussing the new person/people out before I feel safe enough to just walk past them in the stairway.

Then not so long after they left I heard my front door being chapped. I couldn’t even make it to the peep hole to see who it was, I just kinda froze so they couldn’t hear me moving and I stood there silent for a few minutes until they had gone.

I am so hungry and yet I can’t face the supermarket at the moment. It’s too busy and noisy and stressful today. All I feel capable of doing is sitting here listening to every little noise and wondering what’s going on. I really should go and have a shower then take the dogs out again but I feel so fucking incapable of doing anything other than sitting waiting, watching, listening and feeling the itchy scratchiness of my brain.

16:56 – Mother’s Day

18 Mar

It’s Mother’s Day here in the UK. A day that fills me with too many emotions to write down. I could go on and on for the next few hours about how much I wish I had my little boy here, a happy healthy 5 year old, bringing me a little home made card that he’s made in school. But that is just a dream.

My head was good on Friday then shit again yesterday. That shit-ness seems to have spilled into today. Or maybe it’s just because of what day it is. I am going up to my parents house at 6pm for dinner, I’ve bought Mum a card, a book and a bouquet of flowers. I didn’t have much money this week to do anything big to mark the day.

I’ve also bought a card for my best friend and signed it from her two little ones. Even though she isn’t with her ex he should still make sure he gets her a card like she does for him when it’s Fathers Day! But alas he doesn’t, so I do. Maybe her Mum will have already got one but I’m sure she won’t mind having two!

I did plan on going out to hers before going to my parents but I’m having some real issues with it still being daylight and people still being outside and I don’t feel I can face the outside world. I spoke to my Mum on the phone last night and told her how bad things are at the moment, how horribly paranoid and anxious I feel all the time. She suggested that she comes down every day at lunch time and takes the dogs out for me and checks in with me to see how I’m doing. Whilst this feels helpful, I don’t want to have to resort to my Mum coming down every day to ensure her 30 year old daughter can get out of bed that day! I know that really this is her way of trying to keep an eye on me because she knows I’m not going to any of my appointments but I can’t help but feel if I let her help with one thing then it will be too easy to let her help with a second thing and then a third and so on and so on until the agoraphobia kicks back in fully reinforced that I am indeed shit and unable to do anything by myself.

I wanted to write more but I’m starting to feel really anxious so I think I’ll just leave it here for now.

15:22 – So I fucked something else up…

15 Mar

I got a letter today to tell me that as I’ve missed my last three appointments with my counsellor I will not be offered any further appointments but I can contact them any time if I want to restart. This is the counsellor at the drug and alcohol place who was doing bereavement counselling with me. Yes the counselling that I wrote about needing so badly and feeling good that someone was finally going to do it with me, unlike the CMHT who just bang on and on about fucking safety plans, crisis plans and risk assessments. The counsellor is nice, she really is, but how do I explain to her that its not that I don’t want to go and see her, I just can’t. The outside world terrifies me at the moment. I don’t even have the words to try and describe it.

So I am sad that the counselling is finished, especially as I was just getting to the point of starting to trust her and open up to her, but like everything I have to go and fuck it up. Talking about my little one and all the feelings I have surrounding the loss was starting to become helpful. I know I can contact them any time in the future and resume the sessions but that just doesn’t seem likely any longer.

I also got a letter from my CPN offering me another appointment on March 20th which is the same day I am supposed to see the psychiatrist. I know I’m not going to go to either of them and yet I can’t seem to phone and tell them this. Which makes me feel bad as I am wasting their time and someone else could have those appointments. I also know I kinda need to see the psychiatrist to go about increasing my Quetiapine again but ugh I just can’t. I also need to see my GP within the next week to get my next lot of 4 weekly prescriptions sorted but I don’t feel as though I’m going to be able to do that either right now. I can see what’s going to happen here, I’m going to run out of medication and lose my appointments with my CPN and psychiatrist, I’m going to be left on my own with nothing other than a completely mental head.

I truly feel trapped in this horrendous paranoia that I can’t escape from. And I have tried, I went out on Tuesday when I last posted, I forced myself to shower then take the dogs out whilst it was still light outside and the anxiety was awful. I only managed about 2 or 3 minutes of being outside before I was trying to get back to the house. But nature called and the dog was doing the toilet and so I had to stand there and wait, all I could feel was nauseous panic creeping up on me. I kept trying to tell myself that it was going to be OK and that I would be back in the house in just a few more minutes. I was trying to be self-soothing. I was trying to remain calm. But there were people, mostly school kids walking home from school and their chatter was so fucking loud it was hurting my head.  I couldn’t hear the soothing voice inside me any more just chatter that got louder and louder until it turned into a chant that was bursting my fucking eardrums “we see you, we see you, We See You, We See You, WE SEE YOU, WE SEE YOU” and I had to turn and run. Running in front of all these school kids, looking like a paranoid anxious mess, flustered and rubbing my hands on my head, eyes dashing from side to side trying to find a way out of it all… I was a mess. As soon as I got back indoors my three locks were put on the door and I just sat and cried with the duvet wrapped round me.

Yesterday I had to go to the pharmacy and pick up my prescription. As usual I waited until just before closing time and ran along the street for it. On my way back home I bumped into male friend, I started making excuses to him that I had to come home to have a shower, I was about to make dinner, I was probably going out soon… anything so that he didn’t ask to come round. He did text me later though to ask if I was OK as I seemed a bit “off”. I didn’t reply.

The paranoia feels like it’s taking over everything. The anxiety has not been as bad as this in a long time. It’s almost as bad as it was when my agoraphobia made me completely housebound. And I worked hard to get to a point where I could deal with some anxiety, where I could calm myself down a bit, but now it just doesn’t seem to work at all. My head is constantly swimming through voices, chants and unintelligible chit chat.

I just feel confused and scared. I don’t know why it’s all starting again, it really makes me think that I’m never going to get ‘better’.

21:30 – Fucked up head

5 Dec

I have just found out that my abusers brother is moving to my little town. My little safe town where I have my safe flat and can lock out badness from the outside world. Why here of all places? Apparently because his girlfriend has family here and he has managed to get a job here. Yes I know it is not his fault that his brother was a child abuser but blood is thicker than water and I have no doubt that he would defend his (unfortunately..) deceased brother. I have no idea how much or how little he knows re: the abuse but readers who have been reading here for a while might remember when his niece (abuser’s teenage daughter) kicked off on my personal Facebook page which resulted in me sending her a long email telling her everything. It was controversial on here, some agreed I had done the right thing, other’s said she was too young for me to have been so blunt in it. But that’s in the past now. My worry is that she has grown up with him like brother and sister and I don’t want any confrontations. I don’t want any trouble being brought to my door and quite honestly I don’t want them to move here. One part of my head says stop being stupid, the guy needs to earn money and with things as they are just now I should be looking upon him admirably for managing to get a job to support his young family. He didn’t abuse me so he can’t hurt me in that way. If he knows things then there is a chance he could hurt me emotionally but hey, all that is still to be experienced. What put the icing on the cake was finding out that my male friend J who I spend a lot of time with, well his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend are friends with abuser’s brother. They have been friends on Facebook all this time – how did I not notice and know they were friends until now when I find out he is moving here? You know what the real problem is – it’s how they look. Identical. It’s just like him in another body even though I know it’s not him. Maybe this is how I’m destined to overcome my agoraphobia by running as far from here as I can before my head gets any more fucked up.

I was going to mention something about where I’m at with ‘the professionals’ but to be honest there isn’t much to say. I saw the psychiatrist last week and my new CPN. I still don’t like new CPN but it was slightly easier with her than it had been the time before. I didn’t want to be in the appointment with the psychiatrist either and after being kept waiting for half an hour I was in and out as quickly as possible. I’m hoping I don’t have to see him til 2012 now even though I have an appointment next week which is getting cancelled. My Olanzapine is now at 7.5mg with an increase maybe next week to 10mg but so far I feel nothing. The voices are not so much louder just more frequent, I’ve caught myself speaking out loud to them a few times which makes me want to hide indoors even more.

Really I just see everything as another sign of why I shouldn’t be here any longer, not challenges that I have to overcome one by one, just the feeling that when I failed to die last time that I tried to end it all was my trial and now I’m being pushed and pushed into a corner so I either must run or not be here at all. Either way I don’t think I can stay here for very much longer.

10:10 – Max dose of Quetiapine/Seroquel… And apparently I’m still in psychosis…

29 Sep

There are a lot of things I tried to explain yesterday when I was with Mr Psychiatrist. We did one of those circle things that link thoughts, feelings, events, behaviours, etc. For a very long time now (2 years+) I’ve had the belief that people can hear my thoughts and can hear everything that’s inside my head. This distresses me especially when a place is busy it makes me even more anxious because there are so many people who can get into my head and start reading me. They just have to look at me in a certain way and I know that’s them inside of my mind; and that anxiety continues until I know I’m starting to have a panic attack and I have to leave wherever I am *now*.

I’m not entirely sure why they want to read my head other than to laugh at how pathetic I am really. Sometimes I can start feeling paranoia coming on out of nowhere when I spot someone who appears to be looking at me and this quickly changes to me thinking that they are following me, I see the CCTV cameras moving towards me and they start to follow me as well. I had been in the supermarket the other day and was becoming incredibly anxious as it was busy and making my head too noisy. When I got home there was a man on the roof of the building opposite me, pretty much eye level with my flat, and I could see him watching me. He was trying to hide it but I knew what he was up to. So I closed the curtains on him because I could hear him shouting down to his work mate and I’m sure I heard him say something about all his work being done now and something about a chip. Did someone from the supermarket get him to put a chip into my mind so that they can all hear my thoughts even when I’m here, in my flat and on my own?

I just can’t work out why they want to get into my head and steal all of my thoughts or ideas. I *hate* it when a stranger makes eye contact with me, it’s like an immediate feeling like they aren’t just reading my thoughts but are inside my mind and they can play about with my thoughts and feelings just for their amusement or maybe for some kind of testing like I’m their guinea pig.

A lot of the time I can’t sleep or I wake up a lot because I lie there thinking over and over in vivid detail about everything that’s happened that day. I can end up staying up for a full night if my thoughts are racing too much, blaming myself for being so stupid, terrified that whatever I did to make all these things happen to me will never ever go away. And then I start to have these flashback things, the most recent being while I was in hospital and seeing those disgusting slugs working their way along the light strip then seeing my baby in his coffin on the floor. I couldn’t let the slugs get my baby but if I moved like to get out of the bed and bring him over to me he would kind of disappear before my eyes. The slugs didn’t go away though, they stayed all night and all day smearing their slime everywhere.

I barely slept last night because all I could think about was trying to work out how where and when they could have put a tracking chip inside me. I examined under my hair and all over my body but there are no holes. Well there are stitch things on my arm from Tuesday night when I cut, but I had a jacket on yesterday. So I’m confused and thinking maybe they haven’t chipped me but are just spying on me and reading my thoughts whenever they get the chance. But why me? I’m boring and don’t do anything exciting. Perhaps they even have the wrong person that they are watching, I wish they would figure it out because it’s turning me into a paranoid wreck.

The last part of my crazies just now is back to the topic of blood. When I had the very loud and commanding voice of Patty last year she kept telling me to cut and release the blood because there was ‘fortune in my blood’. And maybe it was greed on my part for wanting to find the fortune she was referring to, but I never did. Maybe that’s because they started ramping up the Quetiapine. Now it’s like the polar opposite, all I can think about with regards to self harm is that my blood is bad. Because I am bad and I need blood circulating round my body to keep me alive so all my badness is just going to continue round and round my body, never going away.

My mind is crazy. My body is horrid.

I am seeing Mr Psychiatrist again in two weeks time. If I haven’t felt any improvement from the 750mg Quetiapine by then, then he is going to change my anti-psychotic meds. His little conclusion from our appointment was that I’m in psychosis, have distorted perceptions of reality and delusional beliefs and something was briefly mentioned about schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder because I’m showing more signs of them than bipolar now but he said he wasn’t changing my diagnosis, just going to watch the patterns of my moods and thoughts and beliefs a little closer.

I asked him if he thought I’d left the bin too early and he asked me to come home, get a bag, then go through every drawer and cupboard etc in my flat and put everything into the bag that I would likely reach for when I’m self harming. I said I’d try but as time went past I realised what a stupid idea that would be. I have wires everywhere – from my TV, hair dryer, new hair straighteners, a little radiator thing I use when I’m cold, a number of little lamps around the place – I mean, it’s not going to work. OK, I know he probably meant blades or any excessive medication I would use but to be honest there is a craft shop about two minutes walk from my flat that sells craft knives so throwing things out would really just be pointless. I see his point, that it would put a delay on my actions therefore giving me more time to think ‘do I really want to do this?’ but when I need to do it, I need to do it. And blades are so damn cheap, like £1 for 10 blades, it’s all far too easy to throw all my sharps away but in the space of five minutes been to the shop and back with more.

Anyway I’ve blabbed on enough now. I don’t quite know where my head is at today other than knowing that I’m very tired. But I’m going to try and stay awake all day so that I might get a better night’s sleep tonight.

Protected: 14:28 – Support worker and sitting in my own filth

9 Aug

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Protected: 12:37 – Is this stability? It’s fucking scary!

27 Jun

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