Tag Archives: poorly dog

10:40 – Home for good this time?

16 Feb

I’m almost slightly scared to say this but… Charlie dog is home again after being back staying in the vets since Monday. I brought him home last night and I’m very much hoping that this time is for good and when we go for his check up on Monday morning there won’t be anything else needing repaired. Hopefully it’s just going to be a case of allowing his stitches to heal and slowly building him back up to full strength. He is really skinny at the moment and I hate it, he’s lost around 2kg but he only was about 9kg to start with so (to me anyway) it’s pretty noticeable.

I haven’t really done much over the past couple of days so this is just a little ramble…

The student support advisor emailed me back re: my concerns about being so far behind now and how I didn’t want to drop out of the course but at the same time I couldn’t manage the heavier workload this semester. So we have come up with the solution that I drop one of my modules this semester to lessen the workload and then I will re-take that module this time next year. It is still to be approved by the degree leader but we think it should work out OK that way. It just means that semester one and two next year are both going to be heavy workloads but I’m very much hoping that by the time September starts my head will be in a better position to cope with more studying but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

So I have managed to do almost all of week 2’s work over the past few days by just putting my iPod in and turning it up nice and loud to drown out any head noise. Music without any words in seems to work best for studying or else I find myself in the middle of reading articles and taking notes then I realise I’m writing down the lyrics I’m hearing! I think if I can get about five hours studying done over the course of today then that should be week 2’s work completed. But Monday is the start of week 4 and there is no way I’m going to get all of week 3’s work completed tomorrow, however if I can just sit here and force myself to study then it’s possible to get week 3’s work finished mid-week and actually start week 4’s work whilst we are still on week 4.

Did that even make any sense?!

I’m feeling pretty tired at the moment as I’m back doing Charlie’s strict diet and medication schedule which starts at 8am and finishes at midnight so I got about six and a half hours sleep. But then I take my morning Quetiapine dose and a couple of hours later (like right now) I begin to feel like a bit of a zombie and my brain feels like mush. So even though this would be perfect timing to get some studying done – the dogs have been up and fed and out for a walk – but I’ve put my pj’s back on and all I want to do is go back to bed for a couple of hours. I can’t though as Charlie needs more medication in ten minutes then some more an hour later. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long day! But I’m back in that zone again where I know I have to care for Charlie and I guess it’s a bit like caring for a sick baby – they can’t tell you what’s wrong or what bit hurts so you just have to do everything the doctor/vet tells you to do to make them better. And when I am in this mode it does help me manage the head noise a little bit better because I’m constantly so distracted, yet at the same time when the head noise wants to be louder than everything else then it fucking does.

Anyways…maybe I will waken up a bit and become slightly less zombified as the day goes on. I think some sweet tea is in order to perk me up a bit. I’ve set little goals in my head to do an hour’s studying each time Charlie has an hour between medications and that way it spreads it out over the day rather than sitting here trying to cram in as much as possible until my head feels close to exploding. So we shall see if that approach works!

And on that note it’s 10.30am and time for Charlie’s 3rd dose of morning medications so I’d better go and sort him out. My cupboard currently resembles a small pharmacy with all his meds and all of mine. The vet was even kind enough to colour code all of his boxes of meds (simply because there are so many of them) so that makes life a little bit easier!

Hope you’re all managing to have a good Saturday 🙂

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00:13 – Stressed. Stressed. Stressed.

13 Feb

Firstly a Charlie dog update. This morning he had his third operation in the past seven days and they managed to drain all the fluid and blood that had shown up on the ultrasound scan yesterday. He now has what looks like a plaster cast all the way round his stomach which looks quite strange but it’s holding everything nice and tight to help things heal better. He was in a funny mood today, he didn’t want to have a little walk around the car park, he pulled me back towards the vet’s front door. So I took him back in but he didn’t want to go back into his bed at all and refused to walk so the vet just carried him back through. Then she had a chat to me for five or ten minutes and the whole time all I could hear was this high pitched howling and crying – I’ve never heard Charlie do that before and it was pretty upsetting. I’m now questioning whether I should go in every day and see him – am I just upsetting him by going and then leaving again or would he be more upset if I didn’t go in at all for a couple of days? I don’t know.

So he is back to being “critical” but we are very much hoping this is third time lucky and the last operation he’s going to need but they have told me there is a chance these pockets of fluid could happen again. So the goal for the moment is to get him to rest as much as possible for the rest of the week and to make sure his temperature stays down and carry on with all of his medications. I so hope this is the last of all his problems and he can finally start to heal.

My head has been pretty pickled again today – well it calmed down slightly after I got the call mid afternoon to say Charlie’s operation was over – but in general I’ve been feeling pretty mixed up. As I’m getting so behind with my part time university course I decided to send the student support woman an email explaining that I was having a bit of an unstable period at the moment and finding it impossible to concentrate and absorb the course material. I asked if there was any way I could just do one module this semester as that would really help me to catch up and make the reduced workload more manageable. She sent me a reply to say she was going to speak with my personal academic tutor and see if they can work out a way I can just do one of the two modules this semester and re-take the other one at a later date. I really hope I will be able to do it that way but she said I’ll need to give them a few days to work out if it would be possible for me to do the course one module at a time. She was really nice about things in her email so I’m glad I let her know how much I’m struggling and didn’t leave it for another couple of weeks when I may have ended up too far behind for it to be possible to catch up.

I spent a few hours with my Mum again this afternoon, I just couldn’t handle sitting in the house. Even though I knew I have so much studying to do I was just driving myself mad sitting about. So I went to the parents house and stayed there until it was almost 5pm and time to go and visit Charlie.

Tomorrow I have an appointment with my support worker at rape crisis and my Mum said she would take me supermarket shopping as my finances are in a real mess at the moment and I have hardly any food in the house. I don’t know what I’d do without my Mum sometimes, I’m so lucky to have someone who can help me out when I get stuck but at the same time I feel kind of bad that at the age of 31 I still need to ask for help from time to time.

Anyways… I’m not going to ramble on for too long tonight, I feel pretty tired and like it’s been another long stressful day. I wish I could just climb into bed and fall asleep quickly and remain asleep until my batteries have been completely recharged but that is truly impossible at the moment. I go to bed and lie there for a good couple of hours thinking, worrying, over-analysing everything. I eventually fall asleep stressed and exhausted and then a few hours later I’m awake again. Awake, stressed and still exhausted. More lying there awake until the darkness outside starts to disappear and the daylight takes it’s place. It almost feels like one continuous day with a few short naps here and there, I don’t feel like I’m getting any proper deep sleep at all. I took my last 10mg Nitrazepam last night but it didn’t do bugger all.

I just went to take my medication and realised I forgot to take my morning dose – I take 250mg Quetiapine and 4mg Diazepam in the morning then 4mg Diazepam at lunchtime another 4mg around 6pm and another 4mg at bedtime. Then at bedtime I also take 500mg Quetiapine and 30mg Mirtazapine. So as I forgot to take my morning meds I just took the whole 750mg Quetiapine all together so maybe it will help me get some sleep tonight. I doubt it, but you never know.

Right, on that note I’m going to watch some TV then take myself through to bed shortly. Can’t believe it’s midnight already, I swear all my days are just blending into one at the moment, it’s like a sense of Groundhog Day hanging over me. And I still have that pressure cooker feeling where I feel like I could explode at any time but I had a long chat to someone earlier and it did actually help. It left me feeling a bit calmer and more able to look at things in a more logical and less stressful way.

And on that slightly more positive note I shall say goodnight.

22:03 – Feel like my head is about to explode

11 Feb

Today has been one hard day and my head is a mess. I didn’t get to bed til gone 2am then was up again just before 8am to start off Charlie dog’s medication for the day (and to take my own). I was pretty emotional and just sat here going through my little one’s memory box, crying into his little blanket, looking at my scan photos and my photos of my baby. Really can’t quite believe that six years have passed. People say time heals but I really don’t think it does.

I went and bought some flowers and met my Mum to go to the cemetery. On the way there I asked her how my cousin’s wedding had been and could feel my eyes welling up as she told me all the emotional moments: the father of the bride speech, the wedding vows, describing my cousin’s dress… I wished I hadn’t asked because it made me feel so sad I wasn’t there to see it all for myself.

We got to the cemetery and tried to make his headstone all pretty with nice flowers. There may be more now if his Dad went up later in the afternoon. I hope he did.

My little man's headstone

My little man’s headstone

After we had put our flowers into the little pots Mum started to talk about how different life would be if little Lewis was here, how she didn’t think my mental health would ever have got so bad if things had just turned out differently. And I kind of think she might be right. I’ve been so empty and lost over the past six years. Even more so in the past four years since my relationship with his Dad ended and my Bipolar diagnosis being made. On the one hand I really hope my little boy looks over me from Heaven and on the other I hope he never sees me when I’m doing bad things to myself and feeling so depressed and traumatised all the time.

Mum took me for a hot chocolate after we left the cemetery and most of the talk was again about my cousin’s wedding. Don’t get me wrong it was nice to hear how happy my cousin was and hear how family members I haven’t seen in years are doing. It just hurt because I felt so left out from it all even though it’s all my own fault for not having the strength to fight this fucking agoraphobia. Even after it ruining my quality of life for so many years I’m still too pathetic and weak to overcome it. That’s what really felt shitty.

Once I got back home I got the dogs and headed off to the vets so Charlie could get a check up and have the cannula taken out his paw. He was jumping about with what looked like excitement as we went in and all the staff started making a fuss of him and saying how he had certainly sprung back to life. But when we went into the consultation room I asked the vet if she could just check his stomach because it had looked pretty flat on Saturday and seemed a little bit swollen again. But I wasn’t too concerned because he’d been going to the toilet normally and not passed any blood or anything so it seemed that everything inside him was working properly. But she took his temperature and I could see her face starting to look a little worried, it was sky high again after being back to normal on Saturday. So she did an ultrasound over his tummy and could see pockets of fluid everywhere. It looked like his tummy was full of bubbles.

She said she couldn’t tell on the ultrasound what the fluid was, it could be that because he just wouldn’t rest yesterday and kept running around at his usual crazy speed that he’s burst a couple of internal stitches again and something is leaking or it could be that he’s started to bleed into his gut again. As she spoke she must have seen the worry on my face as the vet nurse who was also in the room started to give me a cuddle. The vet said he would need to stay with them tonight and would be operated on first thing tomorrow morning. That’s going to be three operations in seven days, major surgery that we didn’t know if he’d survive on Tuesday then reopened to repair burst stitches and a hernia on Friday and now reopened again tomorrow to see what this fluid is. I was really fighting back the tears and they asked if I was OK. I mumbled that it was my little boy’s anniversary today and my head was feeling pretty pickled and now I was so worried about Charlie again. Is he strong enough to get through all of these operations? Are they going to be able to repair the affected gastro-intestinal organs that are so damaged? The answer is that no one knows. So of course I am terrified all over again that I’m going to lose him. It really does feel like one step forwards and two steps back.

When I left the vets I went to best friend’s house for a couple of hours. I couldn’t come home because I was having really bad thoughts going round in my head, I felt that same pressure cooker feeling that I felt a few weeks ago when I ended up self harming pretty badly. And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to tarnish my little one’s anniversary by cutting over and over until I needed stitches again. So even though I am now 8 days behind with my university work I tried to do the sensible thing and go somewhere I could talk, somewhere I knew the kids would distract me for a little while and somewhere where I couldn’t start hurting myself. I came home around 7pm and for the past two and a half hours I’ve just sat here staring blankly into space, my thoughts racing around too fast and to be honest it feels like my head is about to explode. I feel so stressed and worried and emotional. I keep bursting into tears and I’m not even sure exactly what I’m crying about.

I guess it’s about everything. Today has been extremely hard and I am shattered but I know I’m not going to sleep tonight. I still have two Nitrazepam left that lovely GP gave me last week and could take them and see if they help me get off to sleep. I doubt they will though, it doesn’t matter how much I try to medicate myself, everything in my head is just going way too fast and too erratically for medication to do much good. I have to try and prepare myself for another tough few days ahead but I am truly struggling to know where I’m going to get the strength from. I find it hard enough to function properly on the various medications that I take and when you throw in sleep deprivation and racing thoughts and worries (the outcome of which I have absolutely no control over) it makes it very very hard to keep on going.

I know that self harming isn’t the answer and yet I keep thinking over and over of that feeling of everything starting to release… that moment when I have finished cutting and just sit with my eyes closed for a few minutes feeling like all of the worries have rushed out of my system… it’s hard to describe it in words… I guess if you do it then you’ll know what I mean.

I can’t lie. My head is absolutely pickled tonight. I can’t slow my thoughts down so I have no choice but to let them race around until sheer exhaustion kicks in and I can get some rest. I guess it’s going to be another long night.

23:36 – A stressful day

8 Feb

Today started off with me being stressed out from the moment I opened my eyes. My mobile phone was ringing and it was only about 8.30am but then I noticed it was the vets calling so answered it straightaway. She was phoning me with some bad news – she’d been having a feel of Charlie dog’s stomach and could feel what felt like a hernia – so she was phoning to tell me he needed operating on immediately. I was so worried, it was still within 72 hours of his major surgery on Tuesday afternoon and still very much in the danger zone and they were going to have to cut him back open and operate again.

I just lay there in bed crying and cuddling into my other little dog. These past 7 days since he got really poorly have been so stressful and after he had looked so well yesterday it really felt like one step forward two steps back. But thanks to his amazing vet the operation went well and she said that what had happened was a couple of his internal stitches had pulled open and a bit of bowel was poking through but she said it was easy enough just to put some new stitches in internally and then used staples externally. I went to see him at 5pm and he was a little bit tired with the painkillers and from the anaesthetic but he seemed happy to see me and his tummy looked a lot better, it was really swollen the last couple of days but after operating again it was much flatter.

So… if he is well enough to come off his IV antibiotics and fluids tomorrow and manages to take his medications in tablet form (hidden in his food!) then she said I could bring him home for a couple of hours in the afternoon if I want to see how he gets on. But I told her I was really scared because every time something has started going wrong with him it’s all happened pretty suddenly and I’m also scared that if I bring him home for a couple of hours then take him back to the vets to sleep there overnight that it will confuse him. And even though I know the vet wouldn’t be saying I could bring him home if she didn’t think he was ready I’m worried he’s not quite strong enough yet. But we’ll see how things go tomorrow.

I’ve had another busy-ish day today. I need to stay busy at the moment because as soon as I sit down and have nothing to distract me my head starts going bonkers – worrying about everything and then the thoughts start to race and then my head gets all busy and noisy and I end up feeling like I’m about to fall apart… so I have to keep doing things. Whilst I was waiting to hear back from the vet on how Charlie’s operation had gone I went to see lovely social worker and took along the work capability form to get some help with it. It was nice to see her and have a little chat, I’m glad that even though I don’t work with her any more she will still give me help with things like these forms when I need it, and to be fair she probably still knows me better than any of the other people I’ve worked with/work with.

After I left the CMHT I did intend to come home and have a shower seeing as I haven’t had one in about 3 days. But it’s now almost 11pm and I still haven’t had one because best friend phoned me when I was on my way home and asked to meet up for a little while. So I ended up meeting up with her then we went out to her Mum’s for a bit, then we went for a drive and we had a good chat which was nice. Her kids are away to stay with their Dad for the weekend so it was nice to have the peace to be able to talk to her and tell her how stressed out I was feeling and how sad I was feeling about not being able to go to my cousin’s wedding tomorrow. The afternoon went by pretty fast and before I knew it it was 5pm so we went to see Charlie at the vets for a little while then decided to go and get some takeaway food and go back to hers for a while. While we were waiting on our food I heard a man shout “fucking whore” but there was only me, best friend and one other woman in there. Then I heard it again but it sounded closer, louder, clearer. And I started to feel extremely anxious because I just knew that I was the only person hearing it. Why the fuck does my head need to be so shitty and cruel? Am I not dealing with enough at the moment without yet another voice to deal with as well? When we got back to best friend’s house it had changed from “fucking whore” to “I’ve pissed on that” when I opened my food. So I couldn’t eat it and it went in the bin. I tried not to let best friend see that something was wrong and just said I didn’t really have much of an appetite. The last thing I wanted to say to her was “I’m hearing a voice telling me he’s pissed on my food” whilst she was trying to enjoy her dinner… plus she worries that I’ll end up doing something like self harming if the voices start to make me feel distressed. So it was easier just to keep it to myself.

I think it was about 8.30pm when I left hers and came home. I’ve been trying to stay distracted watching the soaps on TV and hanging washing up and playing games on Facebook. For the moment my head feels quieter and I’m feeling quite tired so I think I’m going to take my medication and a couple of sleeping tablets then go and stand in a hot shower until the yawns start. Then I’ll get myself off to bed. I don’t want to lie in bed tossing and turning and overthinking everything – I really need a proper night’s sleep tonight.

So… fingers crossed Charlie dog has a good night and hopefully there will be no scary phonecalls tomorrow morning. I’m not sure what I’m going to do to stay distracted all weekend, I really really need to do some studying as I’ve done none all week and am going to end up really behind, but it’s just so hard to concentrate at the moment. OK before I start to ramble again I’m going to say goodnight and go for a shower.

Goodnight!

22:02 – Busy day, absolutely shattered

7 Feb

I started writing this post this morning but had to go and meet my Mum for lunch before I got the chance to finish it so there’s a few [updates] added in!

Firstly a Charlie dog update: his condition is still “critical” and he is still extremely unwell but yesterday late afternoon when I went into the vets to see him he tried to pull himself forwards to cuddle into me and licked a tiny bit of food from the vets finger so things were looking as good as what could be expected so soon after such massive surgery. But then when I phoned this morning the vet said he’d had a bit of a dip during the night and been sick so that wasn’t such good news that he didn’t manage to keep even that tiny little bit of food down. So today is going to be another long day of hoping and praying he hangs on in there and I’ll go and see him about 5pm again so I can give him a cuddle and see how he’s doing.

[update – saw him at 5pm today and he managed to walk about for five minutes and ate a couple of spoonfuls of food – if he’s still doing well around 5pm tomorrow (72 hours post op) then I *might* be able to bring him home for a few hours on Saturday afternoon and see how he is but I told them I’d be too scared to keep him here overnight, even though I desperately want him home and even though there is a 24 hour on call service I just feel safer knowing he is being checked every few hours by the vet. But yes, for now things are going as well as we could hope for and he’s being such a little fighter] 🙂

Now… what’s been happening with me? Well I didn’t go to bed or get a wink of sleep on Tuesday night. I was extremely upset and couldn’t stop the tears. The voices were going on and on…

“you need to bare your soul to Christ”

“declare your sins!”

“pray for his forgiveness”

“lie on the floor and give yourself to God!”

And on it went. So when I went to my appointment with Mr Psychiatrist yesterday morning I was exhausted and functioning on auto-pilot. I asked him if CPN had been in contact about increasing my Quetiapine from 750mg to 800mg (she hadn’t surprise surprise) but he point blank refused anyway and said that in his eyes 750mg is the maximum dosage he ever prescribes. When I tried to argue back that 50mg more could just be the little bit extra I need he said I had to make a choice to either stick on the 750mg dose or come off the Quetiapine and try another anti-psychotic. I listed all the anti-psychotics he’d already tried and reminded him of the reasons as to why they hadn’t worked for me but there was no changing his mind so I gave up trying, I was too tired to argue.

I filled him in on how ill Charlie dog is, told him about how shit I feel that I can’t get to my cousin’s wedding this coming Saturday and the sadness I’m feeling as it’s my little man’s anniversary on Monday. He said that it’s because of these circumstances that I’m feeling low and not a mood fluctuation as part of the Bipolar. I said I agreed with him that circumstances were making me feel very low but that these circumstances weren’t here a few weeks ago when I self harmed badly enough to require stitches. In fact this depressive mood and these horrible voices have been going on since October and none of these circumstances were there then either. To be honest I was too tired to talk to him and the whole appointment felt like a total waste of time. I did however tell him about new CPN telling me I was selfish on Monday for talking about having suicidal thoughts, he didn’t comment on it and seemed to change the subject so it was a completely unproductive appointment and thankfully I don’t need to see him again until April.

I also had an appointment with lovely GP yesterday. When I went into the waiting room I had to really fight with myself not to run back out the door. There was a baby clinic on and at least six or seven small babies and everyone fussing over them and coo-ing and saying how beautiful they all were and my head felt like it was about to explode. I was absolutely shattered, desperately worried about my fur baby and it was making me so upset being surrounded by babies and proud parents and when I was called through to see lovely GP I was fighting back the tears. I hate it, I hate that almost six years on I still get so affected by being in an environment with lots of babies, I think that was the first thing I said to lovely GP as I went in. She said I looked really tired and asked what had been happening. I went on a five minute ramble about seeing Mr Psychiatrist and it being useless, about CPN calling me selfish and feeling like my appointments with her were making me feel worse not better, about Charlie dog, about the wedding I can’t get to, about the little one’s anniversary… it all poured out and I told her I was feeling so unsupported right now. I told her that the only two ‘professionals’ that I currently work with who I feel listen to me without judging are my support worker from Rape Crisis and herself, lovely GP. I rambled that this wasn’t right, I should feel supported most from the mental health professionals, especially from my CPN but I don’t and that doesn’t feel nice at all.

Lovely GP said she was a bit worried about how I was going to deal with the weekend especially knowing that I have no family around for support and the mental health team is closed at the weekends not that they are much use anyway and she said I really had to sleep. I told her I can’t sleep for worrying so she gave me a few days worth of Nitrazepam to take at bedtime. I took 10mg with my other meds last night and did manage to get some sleep but it was quite broken and I still feel shattered this morning. Before I left my appointment she said that if I needed someone to talk to on Monday I was welcome to give her a call and she’d have a little chat to me. I think she has quite a calming effect on me as I left the appointment feeling like I’d got stuff off my chest. New CPN could do with some lessons in empathy from her!

I don’t think I mentioned this before but I got a letter from the dreaded Atos and a work capability assessment questionnaire through a week or so ago. Am I the only one who sees the word Atos on a letter and just feels their entire body sinking? I hate the waiting time after you send it off where you worry yourself sick that they are going to send you a letter saying your benefits are going to be stopped or make you have one of their dreaded medical assessment’s. With everything that’s been happening with Charlie dog this week I haven’t had a chance to get someone to help me to fill it out and there was no way I was taking it for new CPN to fill out. So I’m going to phone the mental health team and see if lovely social worker who I used to work with is around and see if I could maybe get an appointment to go in and have her help me fill it out.

[update – spoke to lovely social worker and she is going to help me with the form] 🙂

I’ve got to go and meet my Mum shortly for lunch and then we’re going for a wander round the shops as I want to buy a wedding present for my cousin and my parents are driving down to England tomorrow so they will take it down for me. I have no idea what to buy for them, I’ve not got a lot of money and they didn’t want to have a wedding present list, they wrote on the invites that as most people would be travelling quite far and having to pay for hotels that all they wanted was their family and friends there and not to bother with gifts.

[update – couldn’t concentrate properly whilst wandering round the shops, was experiencing a lot of head noise and was just getting frustrated so Mum suggested I just buy some nice crystal champagne glasses and a bottle of champagne (a bit boring I know, but at least they’ll use them) and I also got a lovely card and wrote a little message apologising for not being there and wishing her a day as special as she is… aww that made me tear up a little bit there!] 😦

I also did something this morning which I guess you could call empowering. I decided to write my ex an email and tell him I wanted to do my own thing this year for the little one’s anniversary on Monday. Towards the end of our relationship I felt like I had absolutely no control over things due to him having two affairs within the last six months of being together. And despite splitting up almost four years ago now I have always met with him on the little man’s anniversary because I had this belief that our little boy would be looking down over us and happy to see Mummy and Daddy both by his stone together. But you know what? I realise now that all my little one would want is for us both to remember him but for us to be happy. And meeting my ex doesn’t make me happy, it usually ends up fucking with my head and I now feel like I don’t need that headfuck any more. It was time to cut the final thread and I did it. Me. I took control and I feel like something has lifted, I don’t have the feeling of dread about Monday any more because I know I’m going to try my best to celebrate his anniversary, to remember him with the people I love – my Mum and my best friend. And whilst I know there will be tears I’m sure there will be some smiles as well.

Anyway I better go now as I have five minutes before I need to meet my Mum. I’m tired and my head is a little bit noisy and to be honest I could do with going back to bed for a few hours but I’ve got a busy afternoon – lunch, finding a wedding present, going to visit Charlie dog at the vets, hoping lovely social worker phones back and says she can help with the work capability questionnaire, facing the supermarket as I have absolutely no food in the house and ugh I really am not in the mood right now for being awake today… maybe some fresh air will do me good.

[update – It’s now almost 10pm and I have just realised I forgot to post this earlier, oops! So I’ve added a few updates in for the things that have happened since this morning. It’s been a long day and I am ready to take a couple of Nitrazepam and try and get a better sleep tonight. Even the vet gave me a telling off today for not sleeping – but then admitted she hadn’t been doing much herself because she’s been so worried about my Charlie dog. She really is an amazing vet she looks after all the animals in her care with such genuine love for them all which makes going in there and seeing your pet really poorly that little bit easier 🙂 So I’m going to take my other little dog for his bedtime walk and get myself off to bed. Goodnight]  🙂

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

5 Feb

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Not an exact quote but close enough)

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

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

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

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

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

Goodnight.

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

3 Feb

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

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

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

I want to live

I want to die

I can’t go on living

I can’t end my life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Enjoy…

23:09 – A mental head and a poorly dog

1 Feb

So, it’s February.

Ten more days until my little angel’s anniversary.

I haven’t posted all week as I’ve been really unwell – physically and mentally. I think I’ve had another flare up of the suspected stomach ulcer as I have been constantly vomiting all week, had pain in the same spot as last time and a complete loss of appetite. So because I have been sick so much I felt completely exhausted but my head has gone ‘out of control’ crazy a few times this week as well. I guess the meds can’t work very well when you’re throwing up all the time, most of them probably ended up partially undigested at the bottom of the toilet so I have no idea how much medication has actually gone into my system these last five or six days, maybe that’s contributing to how mental my head’s been.

I’ve spent this week plotting and planning at a crazy pace inside my head whilst lying on the bathroom floor trying to go another five minutes without vomiting. I guess it might have been a good idea to have gone to see my GP but I knew too many head crazies would be at risk of rambling out my mouth when I couldn’t think straight. Anyway that’s all for another post.

Today one of my little dogs decided to give me a fright. He hadn’t seemed his normal self for a couple of days, he’d been quite sick and hadn’t really eaten anything or even drank any water. I thought he must have just had a bit of an upset stomach and that he’d be OK today but by lunch time I was getting seriously worried about him. He was just lying there panting really fast and shaking and I knew I looked an absolute mess from not showering in days but I suddenly went into panic mode and phoned the vet saying it was an emergency and I needed her to see him so she told me to take him along. I had this horrible gut wrenching moment where I actually saw him stop breathing in front of me. I don’t think he actually did, I think it was just my head being crazy. But it was enough to make me spring into action, it was like it no longer mattered how hellish I felt, I knew I had to get him special doggy medicine immediately.

Got to vets and she first checked his temperature which they do rectally. Normally he would not be a happy doggy having someone do that to him but he just lay there and didn’t flinch. She said his temperature was really high and then checked him for signs of dehydration. It was confirmed he was dehydrated as well from the vomiting and not drinking. The likely diagnosis is he has gastritis (a stomach infection) so they treated him for that for the moment. So he got an injection to bring down his temperature and another to stop him being sick and she said she wanted to keep him there overnight on a drip so he could get fluids IV. But I asked if I could bring him home and try to get him to eat and drink a little bit and promised to phone them if I couldn’t get him to drink anything or if he was sick again.

Thankfully some fresh air and a couple of injections seems to be doing something. I managed to get him to take two syringes of water and once his tongue was wet he went to his water bowl and drank a little himself. I managed to get him to take just a couple of spoonfuls of a really gentle food meant for puppies and after that he went to his bed and slept for a good three hours. Since he woke up he hasn’t been sick once so at least I know he has some fluids and a little bit of food in his tummy. But the agreement I made with the vet is that if he is sick at all then I will take him in to spend the day in there tomorrow on IV fluids and for further tests. Now I hope and pray he will get plenty of rest tonight and maybe be a little brighter tomorrow now he’s had some medicine.

It didn’t hit me until I was back home and watching him sleep how unwell my poor little fur baby was. I thought he had just eaten something that hadn’t agreed with him and in reality he was very close to needing to be kept in on a drip, and still might depending on how he is overnight. And something horrible triggered off in my head, I’ve been having all of these very intense moments of thinking “what if…?”

What if I’d lost him?

One day I will lose him…

One day I will lose both my little dogs…

One day I will lose my parents…

One day I will be left here alone with no one to love and no one to love me.

And for the first time in a long time thoughts of death raced around my head and made me really scared, the whole concept of disappearing forever, of never ever coming back, never being able to bring back the people who one day I’ll lose… And all I could do was cry and rock myself whilst I cuddled my knees… Death has never really scared me, it’s the one certainty that comes with life, but today… right now… it terrifies me. Even though I am pretty spiritual in my beliefs that I will be reunited in heaven with all of my loved ones one day, tonight I only feel fear of growing old alone and crazy and …

…I don’t know the words for what I’m trying to say…

Sorry, I’ll try and write something that makes more sense tomorrow, I’m getting myself all worked up again and it doesn’t feel good… paranoia and anxiety and head crazies… can’t cope with them right now…sorry… goodnight…