Tag Archives: self harm thoughts

23:45 – Put simply, I feel like shit

6 May

It’s been almost a week since I last had anything to say for myself. Since I last posted the desperation and the urgency and unpredictability of my destructive thoughts has all quietened down somewhat. I’m not really sure why. What has replaced those thoughts is a feeling of numbness, I feel almost detached from everything and I don’t want to be around anyone and I don’t want to do anything. My brain feels sluggish. I can’t think properly so I give up trying. My ability to concentrate or focus on anything is shot to shit at the moment.

If I could, I would just lie in bed all day and all night, not bothering to get dressed or go outside. The only thing that prevents me from just doing exactly that is knowing the dogs need to go out for walks, they don’t need to suffer because of my state of misery. So I scrape back my hair and I put on the same clothes that I wore yesterday (and probably the day before that as well) and we go out. They get a walk and to do the toilet, I stay hidden with my hood pulled up and stare at the ground. And this repeats itself several times a day.

In between times I pull my pyjamas back on and lie in bed or on the sofa staring into space, not even thinking about anything really, just lying there feeling numb and empty. I found a box of stanley knife blades in the drawer yesterday and had a very brief urge to self harm but you know what? I couldn’t even be bothered. It was too much effort and too much energy to do it. The blades got thrown back in the drawer and the drawer closed.

I’ve gone from barely being able to sleep at all to just wanting to sleep all the time. I can’t sleep all the time, my body won’t allow me that privilege. My GP was off on holiday last week and I needed a repeat prescription but because my last prescription was the first month long one in years the other GP said he wasn’t comfortable to give me another monthly and so he put me back on weekly dispense until I can get an appointment to see my normal GP. Then she can decide whether she is happy for me to get monthlies or whether she wants me to remain on weeklies. I think it was probably because the other GP had seen all the A&E trips from self harming episodes over the past month and probably wasn’t sure if I was a bit of a risk. Maybe it’s for the best that I’m on weeklies at the moment as it means I tend to take my medication properly as I don’t have enough tablets to mess around and do a bit of self medicating here and there. At least I’m doing one thing properly.

This week I have an appointment on Wednesday with my support worker from Rape Crisis and an appointment with CPN#2 on Friday. Other than going to them I expect this is going to be another week of hiding from the world and living in my pyjamas. It’s not as if I haven’t got things to be doing – I have a washing machine to order and I have an essay due in at the end of the week if I want to have any chance of passing this module… but I just can’t seem to do it. I keep putting everything off and delaying everything, telling myself I’ll ‘do it tomorrow’ then tomorrow comes and again I do absolutely nothing. If I don’t meet this essay deadline and pass it with a pretty decent grade then I will have to re-sit and I just want this module over and done with. I’m going to try and take an early Summer break and try and get my head back together for the increased workload that September will bring. Hopefully by September I will have done a fair bit of work with the psychologist and be armed with some better coping tools than cutting myself to shreds.

I just feel this complete sense of misery, a big black cloud right above my head threatening to start pissing down on me at any time. Numbness and emptiness and a sense of detachment from everyone and everything. Quiet and in full hibernation mode. Self harm is too much of an effort even though I know I deserve to be covered in more cuts. Thoughts of ending my life have passed through my mind a few times, but they are just that, thoughts. I don’t have a clear enough head to do anything. I don’t have the energy either. I don’t even know if I have the energy to go to my couple of appointments this week – I’ll see how I feel at the time.

I hate myself for writing such a depressing post especially after writing about all the sad news I’d learned last week and how it had put life into perspective a bit. It made me feel like I shouldn’t take life for granted so much and that I should be doing something happy and something positive every day. And I hate that I can’t adapt into that mindset even when I try. Any time I’ve tried to laugh or smile this sense of darkness begins to loom again. So I don’t try. I just sit and be miserable and wait to see what is going to happen next.

I’m shit. I deserve to feel this way. Honestly, if you really knew me you would say the same. The people who tell me nice things about myself like my Mum or best friend just say it to try and cheer me up, they are biased… If people could hear the stuff in my head they would have no hesitation to tell me that yes, I am shit and deserve nothing more than to feel like the piece of crap I am.

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

10 Apr

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

23:38 – Being trusted by GP for the first time in over 3 years

3 Apr

For over 3 years now I have received my medication on a weekly basis. Every Wednesday I have to go to the chemist and pick up my weekly script. Every four weeks when I get a new prescription I have to sit for ages whilst the pharmacist splits it all up into 4 separate weekly bags. For pretty much all of this time (apart from when I’ve had medication changes) my meds cupboard has looked the same every week:

14 x 25mg Quetiapine

14 x 200mg Quetiapine

7 x 300mg Quetiapine

7 x 30mg Mirtazapine

56 x 2mg Diazepam

All the tablets precisely counted out so I take 750mg of Quetiapine each day, 30mg of Mirtazapine and 16mg of Diazepam (4mg 4xday).

Getting meds weekly is never something I’ve argued about. I understand that when things are quite unstable it is not a good idea to have loads of tablets in the house. And it also helps keep track of what I’ve taken each day when there is only a small amount of medication to start with. However, it has now been quite a long time that I have gone with no hospital admissions and whilst I may still be struggling with the self harm I would choose cutting rather than overdosing 9.9 times out of 10 if I wanted/needed to hurt myself. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – that last overdose I took, the one which almost killed me, scared the utter shit out of me. No more overdoses for me – if I ever reach a point of being that suicidal again it will be a quick and definite ending – not shovelling pills down my throat.

Sorry… I’m going off at a bit of a tangent here… Back to the point!

This morning I had an appointment with lovely GP. She asked how things have been going and said she had seen a copy of the letter after my recent trip to A&E. I told her the thoughts and images and urges to do it had just got too bad that day and I’d given in, but that I also regretted it very soon afterwards. She asked what support I was receiving at the moment and I told her I’m on the waiting list to see the psychologist again once she returns to work (hopefully at the end of this month) and I told her I was trying to work on some of my issues surrounding both the childhood and adult sexual abuse/sexual assault I have suffered. She said that sounded like hard work to do and I agreed it is, but it’s something I’ve never properly dealt with and it’s something I need to do before I end up with a genuine phobia of even being in the same street as a man. She asked how my university course is going and I told her the truth – shit – due to my total inability to concentrate or focus on the course work. To be honest I think I’m going to get kicked off the course which is pretty bad given that I’m only being expected to do the absolute minimal level of work this semester… but it would seem that even the minimum is just too much for my mind to process and understand šŸ˜¦ So overall I was open and honest with lovely GP, I admitted there are some days that are pretty challenging especially when my sleep is crap like at the moment; but also told her that whilst my head might feel a bit bonkers at times I have no thoughts of ending my life at all and still regret cutting.

After we had a chat for ten minutes or so I decided it was time to brave it and ask the question that I’ve been wanting to ask for a while now but kept thinking she would say no so I hadn’t bothered before now. But today I felt like we had a rational chat and identified the good and bad things going on and I felt quite calm so out came the big question…

“Doctor, as I haven’t been in hospital for quite some time and as I don’t have any urges to harm myself, would you consider trusting me to have more than one week’s medication at a time?”

And to my surprise she said she was confident that if I did have any suicidal type thoughts that I would ask for help and not take an overdose. She asked me if we could have a mutual trust agreement that if she gave me a chance to prove I could be responsible with a lot more medication in the house that I would agree that if I did feel particularly low at any time I would contact someone…anyone…and get help. I agreed to this and so she agreed to give me a chance with the medication. I expected her to give me two week’s worth to start with but she gave me all four week’s worth which sort of shocked me a little bit. I know I can be trusted and I want so much not to let lovely GP down but fuck it is a bit scary having so many tablets in the cupboard. It’s probably just because it’s so unfamiliar to be given so much trust, but if it continues to feel weird I will do the right thing and take some of it to my Mum’s house or something.

So I now have in my cupboard:

56 x 25mg Quetiapine

56 x 200mg Quetiapine

28 x 300mg Quetiapine

28 x 30mg Mirtazapine

226 x 2mg Diazepam

2013-04-03 11.50.49

Wow. It feels so weird to be trusted again. So weird that my head feels so utterly crazy at moments and yet it’s like I’m determined to see this as some sort of a challenge – a test if you like – that I can have these crazy moments but somehow deal with them in a way that doesn’t involve abusing medication in any way. I am determined in 28 days time that I will have taken my medication properly and at the correct times and the correct dosages every single day. I’m not going to let myself down and I’m not going to let lovely GP down. If that’s the only one thing I manage to do over the next 4 weeks then I will be happy. Happy they can trust me and happy that I can trust myself.

I cancelled my appointment with my support worker today as I got absolutely zero sleep last night then was up early to go see GP and by the time it got to 1pm I was like a total zombie. So we have rearranged for tomorrow.

I also got a new phone today and I’m such a happy bunny! (well besides the guilt trip I’m putting myself on)… I used to have the Samsung Galaxy S2 phone but it broke and for at least six months now I’ve been using this shitty little phone that doesn’t do much more than make calls and send texts. I’m not due a contract upgrade until September and really was trying to make do with the shitty phone until then, but then last night I got chatting to someone on Facebook who was selling their Galaxy S3 at a really good price (but still pretty expensive). I said I was really interested and would love to buy it but there was no way I could afford that much money, it would take me at least a month to save up for… Then about an hour later I got a message which basically said “look I know you pretty well, I’ve known you for years, I know you aren’t going to run off with the phone and disappear, I’m not desperate for the money so if you want to pay me in 4 weeklyĀ instalmentsĀ then you can have the phone”… Of course I couldn’t resist that offer so this morning we met up and I handed over my first weekly instalment and got the phone and I’m so in love with it already! Plus I know that in six months it will still be worth a little bit of money so when I get my upgrade I can sell this one and get a bit of money back again.

In a way I feel a bit guilty for treating myself to something I didn’t actually need. I could have lived without it. But at the same time I very rarely go for nights out any more, I rarely buy myself new clothes or nice things for myself, the most extravagant treats I have are the occasional lunch out with best friend or my mum. At least this treat will last much longer than a bowl of pasta or something! But yeah I still have this niggling voice at the back of my mind telling me I didn’t need or deserve such a big treat and it makes it hard to truly enjoy something when you’re feeling guilty for allowing yourself to have it.

Anyways… after being up all day yesterday and all night during the night and then up all day again today I am starting to get extremely tired so it’s time for a quick dog walk, medication and furry pyjamas on and with any luck get some sleep tonight.

Goodnight folks xx

00:05 – Need sleep. Need to cut. But need no regrets?

15 Mar

Today I had an appointment with my support worker from Rape Crisis. I nearly didn’t go to it as my sleeping is still utterly shit and I seem to have well and truly fallen into a pattern of falling asleep somewhere between 3 and 5am then waking up again between 7 and 9am, leaving me feeling pretty shattered. But I decided to go along to it and we spent the hour talking about the self-harm-that-hasn’t-happened-yet-but-I-know-is-likely-to-happen-pretty-soon.

I should probably put a trigger warning in here, this post talks about self harm and is a little bit graphic in places.

I talked about my reasons why I don’t actually want to do it but how I know that the thoughts surrounding doing it are getting faster, more frequent, more graphic, more persuading. I could throw the blades in the bin, but it would only take me two minutes to acquire more. I talked through a typical self harm episode with my support worker, how the build up to doing it is so intense, there are so many thoughts and emotions all dancing around encouraging me, making me think of that feeling of complete numbness and total release, it’s almost like the feeling a junkie gets knowing the hit, the rush, is going to happen any time soon. In a way I can’t wait for it just to happen and for it toĀ engulfĀ me and submerge me all at once.

But then there is this little irritating thought that reminds me of the hatred that I feel towards my scars, the loathing I have for them and how much they affect my self confidence. That’s the long term consequences. Then there is the short term consequences which (usually) involves a trip to A&E. By the time I’ve got to A&E a couple of hours after self harming I am sitting there in shock at the damage I’ve done to myself. I find it really hard to go into the A&E department and be able to speak. The anxiety makes it very hard to get my words out and then there is the sitting in the waiting room knowing that you are going to be called through to the doctor and have to admit to self harming. Having to expose the old scars and the new wounds. Not knowing if you are going to be judged or treated kindly. The mixture of both hope and dread about seeing a nurse/doctor that you’ve see before (for the same reasons). In a way you want to see someone who you know has treated you before and done it nicely, on the other hand you don’t want them to see that you are still doing this same shit to your body.

And if I’m in a situation whereby I don’t know the nurse or doctor on duty (I live in a rural area with a small local hospital so have met most of the A&E staff) but if it’s someone I haven’t met before and I am in a room alone with one or two of them with them assessing my wounds I tend to clam up with anxiety. I can’t speak and I start looking frantically around the room making escape plans in my head. I get scared of the questions they ask me in case they think I am lying – for example – they ask me if I still want to hurt myself and I shake my head to say no but I’m also shaking with anxiety, not speaking, eyes searching all round the room, unable to have eye contact with them… well then I fear they are going to be looking at me and thinking I’m crazy and not be able to just walk straight back out the door. I don’t often feel like I’m in control of a lot of things in my life so the fear of losing my control scares me… a lot.

Most of the time I regret self harming in the days afterwards, sometimes the regret starts within hours of doing it. Fucking hell sometimes within minutes I’m regretting it. But whilst I’m in the act of doing it it’s almost like being transported to a different world – a different headspace – where I feel no physical pain from it and become almost entranced by the blood, the depth, the severity. It’s like how can I be doing this yet not feel it? So in a sense it almost doesn’t even seem real because if I can’t feel any pain then how can I really be doing it?

After my appointment with my support worker I came home – still completely confused, still with these urges to cut, still with the same debate going on inside my head making me remember all the unwanted consequences that come along with doing it. And whilst there are loads more reasons for not doing it than doing it I still know that I will do it. It always wins in the end and the feelings of release it gives me is like an addiction that I must feed every few months (at the moment) – it builds and builds until I can’t take it any more and eventually it will become the only thought in my head until I can’t take stand hearing it one more time and so, I begin to cut. It’s been part of my life as a coping mechanism on and off over the past 17 years of my life. 17 out of my 31 years spent harming my body. That’s more than half my life. Hmm.

So that’s been my day. I am seeing my support worker again on Tuesday and am hoping to see my social worker towards the end of next week to touch base.

It’s after midnight now and despite taking my meds just after 10pm I don’t feel even slightly sleepy so it looks like another night of being awake til fuck knows when. I’ve just taken some extra Diazepam but I doubt they’ll do anything. Tomorrow I’m hoping to find some concentration as I still haven’t written a single post for my course’s weekly debates. But with a mind that is already in a constant debate with itself ‘to cut or not to cut?’ it’s hard to focus on anything else. Especially when you feel like a zombie from the lack of sleep and large doses of Quetiapine. Speaking of Quetiapine makes me think of the voices, I’ve heard snippets of some pretty funny conversations this week, one or two which have made me just roll my eyes in a kind of WTF confused sort of way… and another couple which have actually made me LOL. They are funny things voices; sometimes pure evil, sometimes pure genius, sometimes just hilarious.

Anyway… if I don’t sleep well tonight then I think I may treat myself to a bottle of wine tomorrow night, if I drink alone in the house where the heating is up full blast it is pretty much guaranteed that I’ll fall asleep in front of the TV. Then again alcohol would be something that would likely fuel the self harm thoughts and urges. It’s a no win situation, I should just get it bloody over and done with and hope the usual pattern follows where I don’t think about doing it again for another month or two. But it is impossible to do without the regrets that follow.

Oh well. I guess we’ll see what tomorrow brings. Come what may… (and all that jazz).

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.

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…

 

 

18:25 – ‘Early warning signs’

17 Nov

Things really aren’t good at the moment. I remain behind with my uni work, completely unable to focus on it or concentrate. As soon as I open a textbook page to start reading my head starts thinking about everything else that I’ve messed up. The diet that started off so well, the start of the weight loss and then gaining it all back again. Not going to the gym for a couple of weeks now. Missed my first two appointments with new CPN, she left me a voicemail after missing her again yesterday asking me to phone her before she sends out another appointment but I just can’t see the point.

I feel very low. Very depressed and very unable to do anything. My days consist of nothing. Well nothing apart from my racing thoughts and the thoughts are so fast and strong that I just can’t do any one single thing. Those hopes and goals I had that by Christmas I would be a dress size smaller and would have completed my first module exam and they both seem like they are impossible to achieve now. I have three weeks to write a long detailed essay and complete module #1. Then Christmas break and then two more modules between January and June. Then Summer break then back to it all in August/September time.

To get an honours degree you need to complete 6 modules for each year, so 24 modules in total and a dissertation and that would take you 4 years to achieve. I’m doing it part time, 3 modules a year so it’s going to take me 8 years to achieve. By the end of my first year I’m only really six months in, will still have 21 modules and seven years to go. It’s such a long time. I don’t know that I have the belief in myself that I can do this. Only 11 weeks in and already so behind with everything. We are just starting week 11’s work tomorrow and I’m only on week 9. I just can’t seem to do it, do anything in fact at the moment.

I don’t know why I’m sitting here feeling sorry for myself when I should be opening one of my textbooks and reading and taking notes. I should be blasting my way as fast as possible through week 9 and 10’s work and getting myself up to date. If I get any further behind I’m not sure if it will actually be possible to catch up. And I have had all week, every day as full days to be doing this work, I have no one to blame but myself. I haven’t even been attending appointments so it’s not like I’ve been in and out with having to go to them. I have seen my best friend once in the past couple of weeks and it was for no time at all. I don’t think I’ve seen my parents since my birthday at the end of October so I said I would go there for dinner tomorrow.

Everything just feels like it’s slipping away and I can’t catch it. I need to get back on course for uni work, I must not fail this exam, if I do then that is going to knock my last tiniest bit of confidence that I have left in myself… cannot let that happen… Best friend commented how proud she was of me for not being admitted to hospital yet this year as it usually starts around my birthday when everything goes downhill then finally starts to perk back up around March/April time. And it is all going downhill but I will not be hospitalised this year, I’m just going to have to deal with it all… I don’t know how yet but there must be a way…

Now the sensible thing to do would be to say to myself that I am going to do an hour or two of studying tonight and then the same tomorrow afternoon but I just know it won’t happen. Last night I just lay for hours staring at the ceiling, not even watching TV or listening to music… just lying here and staring. That’s all I seem to do.

I’m still no further forward with my housing transfer request either, I submitted a new form with more detailed answers a few weeks ago and heard back from them saying I still had the same low amount of points so that was quite disheartening… I don’t think I’ll ever be able to escape this flat, this sofa sleeping situation, the cold sheets of mdf that currently act as flooring.

I’m back to that place again where I want to give up. This same place I always arrive at over these “risky months” where I just can’t see the light or the future in anything and start to get sucked right into the crazy world, the fucked up thoughts, the bad behaviours and reaching that breaking point yet again. Can I stop this from happening? I guess that remains to be seen. I still haven’t self harmed, I’m still resisting the urge, but this now scares me as I have held it in for that long that I know if the time comes where I do it – and do it with my head being in a crazy place – then the result is going to be a bad injury.

I’m sorry, I’m rambling and full of some sort of self pity, feeling sorry for myself, I need to get a fucking grip and turn things back around to the way they were at least semi productive (even if not particularly happy) a couple of months ago.

In my crisis plan which I revised for new CPN a couple of weeks ago (but haven’t gone to see her since) – in my “warning signs” section it says –

  • anxiety, panicking and worrying about things
  • lose interest in the future/have bad thoughts about the future
  • lose concentration, focus and motivation
  • not able to sleep properly
  • feeling very irritable
  • self isolating/don’t want to see anyone
  • ignore phone calls/texts
  • everything feels very negative
  • don’t attend appointments
  • self harm, suicidal thoughts and racing thoughts occur

Looks like I could put a tick next to every single one of them right now.

What do I need to do differently if I encounter these situations?

  • contact someone and share how I’m feeling rather than trying to cope alone and self isolating
  • try to speak to someone before acting upon thoughts that lead to self harming or other dangerous behaviours
  • try to do something that makes me happy and contented – try to calm down and diffuse the situation in my head

I don’t think I will see anyone tonight but perhaps I could make a call and get some things off my chest. I don’t know I guess I’ll see how tonight goes. I know I will probably not be honest with my parents tomorrow over dinner, I’ll probably admit to being a little bit behind with stuff and admit to that stressing me out but I doubt I will tell them the full truth about being two weeks behind, not attending my appointments, not going to the gym, not going out the house apart from when it’s dark in the late afternoon, evening, during the night, early in the morning. But then they will probably find out about not attending appointments when they ask how I’m getting on with new CPN and I either need to lie and say fine, or tell the truth that I’ve only seen her once then missed the second and third appointment.

And when one truth comes out then a second one is usually close behind until I realise I’m back there again… Or should that be back ‘here’ again…

 

 

 

19:57 – What the hell is wrong with me?

23 Sep

I cannot stop crying. Like seriously cannot stop. I am shaking and crying and can hardly see what I’m typing because the tears are flowing so fast and hard. Every time I take a breath and try to calm myself down it just starts again. Everything is making me cry, every program I put on the TV, every time I try and play about with my essay for uni, the case study I am doing it on is such a sad story of two little kids aged 2 and 4 and the awful neglect they are experiencing. They aren’t even real kids, they are just made up for the purpose of a case study for the essay but it breaks my heart reading it.

I have X Factor on TV just now and am crying at every single song either because the lyrics have meaning to me or just pure and simply because the person is good at something (singing) and I feel like I have no talent in anything in life. I want to be good at something, I want to feel like a success for once and not a big fat failure. Earlier some program was on set in a maternity ward and watching all the babies being born (which I knew fine would upset me) – god – I was an absolute mess, breaking my heart over not having my little man, breaking my heart because all of those little babies came out screaming and all I could remember was that complete silence as my little one came out sleeping… straight off to the angels.

I feel as though I have accomplished nothing in my 30 years on this planet. All the things I thought I would have achieved by now – I have achieved none of them. I know I am doing this uni course and that is a positive thing but it’s still super early days, I have been at uni twice before in my life and both times dropped out at the end of first year… how do I know this time will be any different?

What if this is all my life is going to be… tears…self harm wounds…battling with suicidal thoughts…stuck in this flat that I hate so much…never being good at anything…remaining overweight…not able to get slim again…not able to have another baby…an earth baby…never being able to trust again therefore never having a relationship again… I know, I know, so much negativity… but that’s the only thoughts going around in my head…and then I’m back in that place again…wanting to hurt…deserving to hurt…maybe that’s the only thing I’m good at… hurting…feeling pain…trying to cry it all out and when that doesn’t work cutting it all out…

I wanted to write a positive post about how I had completed my first essay for uni a week early, how I have written up my meal plan for the next week, how I have thrown out every item of ‘bad’ food in my house in preparation of starting low carbing again. But I just feel crap and I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me.

Sorry for being so depressing… I thought maybe writing it down would stop the tears…but no, they are still here… I feel so completely and utterly miserable and there is no reason for it, there is no reason for the tears, there is no reason for any of this, none that I can identify anyway, I’m finding myself wishing I hadn’t handed over all those tablets the other week to GP, yet I know taking them would achieve nothing. If I want to feel pain or cut it out I have a pack of blades in the drawer but I’m scared to do it again when I already have a big infection in my last bad wound…not scared to cut…scared of needing treatment…scared of the questions…scared of breaking down in front of them…scared of the truth coming out my mouth again.

I really do not know what is wrong with me. I don’t know how much longer I can hang onto those “things will get better again” thoughts because even when they do it never lasts for long. Is this just the way things are destined to be for me? I know I am the only person who can change everything I dislike about myself and my life but that takes strength and I have no idea where mine has gone.

 

Maybe this is what I need…

Fixing…

How do I fix myself…

14:47 – Off to the GP shortly

21 Sep

I have my appointment with lovely GP in 45 minutes. It’s already nearly 3pm and I am not dressed, one of the workmen guys came to my door this morning but I didn’t hear him because I WAS SLEEPING! A bloody miracle! He just put a note through the door to say not to use my shower before 2pm as it needed 24 hours to dry out properly and it was around 2pm he finished with it yesterday… Anyway… I actually slept from around 11.30pm/midnight through until 8.30am – a full 8 hours sleep! I don’t know if it was because I was so completely shattered that my body finally just gave up, exhausted, and let me sleep or if it was the Mirtazapine that helped. It was slightly broken sleep, I do remember being awake around 3am and putting something on iPlayer to watch and then falling back asleep half way through it.

I was looking into Melatonin a bit more this morning and have read it can actually have some quite bad side effects so have decided I won’t ask GP about it just yet, maybe the Mirtazapine increase is going to help me sleep after all. I guess time will tell and I’ll see how I am over the weekend. Slightly worried that I only slept out of total exhaustion and will end up not being able to sleep again all weekend but if that happens I will just have to find a way to deal with it.

My Soya Isoflavones that I ordered arrived this morning. I bought them to try and help with my PCOS and menstrual problems but upon reading the information leaflet they say they are also helpful for a variety of other things and mood swings and irritability were one of them so maybe these little vitamins will help me out a bit. I suppose I better tell GP I am taking them, it’s important they know exactly what I am and am not taking. She will probably try and talk me out of taking them because doctors are all about the bloody medical model and this is something “alternative” but unless she can offer me an anti-estrogen medication and not just something to make me bleed then I am going to give them a shot.

I’m also going to ask her to check my wound on my leg and ask her if it’s healed enough to go and take my form to the gym to get signed up there. I really need to start taking more exercise so longer walks with the dogs and 1 or 2 sessions at the gym each week combined with eating a bit healthier should all help. I want to try low-carbing again, it was what helped me lose a tonne of weight around 6 years ago but it’s so so hard to stick to, especially in the first few weeks when you have to be very disciplined with yourself. But although a lot of people say it’s unhealthy, it is very effective when you have PCOS and insulin issues. I was planning to go and do my weekly food shop today but I know there is no chance of me sticking to low carb eating over the weekend so I will let myself have the weekend of eating what I want then do my food shopping on Monday and only buy low carb foods in.

I will write up a weeks worth of low carbĀ recipes over the weekend so my meals are all planned out for every day next week. I have to do something about my weight, it is not healthy and I don’t feel healthy, it’s affecting my self confidence a lot and I’m 31 next month, I need to start taking better care of my body if I ever want to try to conceive again in the future. Also it was around this age that my Dad and Aunt both started developing high blood pressure problems (and they were both normal weights) so I need to try and reduce the risks of things like that happening to me as well.

It’s all so easy to talk about but putting it into practice is going to be so bloody hard! But I’ve done it once before… I can do it again right?!

OK I need a plan for today:

  • Go and have a shower in new shower šŸ™‚
  • Get dressed, put gym letter in bag
  • Go see GP – ask her to check my leg and tell her I’m starting the Soya tablets
  • Go and hand in my gym letter and see if they can give me an induction date
  • Come back and get dogs and walk down onto the seafront promenade and just walk and walk until I feel as though I’ve done some proper exercise!
  • Go to supermarket and buy food for weekend
  • Read last bit of my textbook chapter for this week’s uni work

That should be enough to keep me busy for a while. I don’t know how honest to be with GP about the self harm thoughts and how strong they still are. I don’t want fucking psychiatrist saying I am game playing again by picking and choosing who I tell information to but equally I don’t want to cause GP any concern on a Friday when she knows support is extremely limited over the weekend. I guess I just have to be honest with her and say yes the thoughts are there, the urges are bad, I don’t know if I’ll act on them but can only hope that I will be able to resist.

I shall probably write another post of ramblings later tonight with how the day went. I guess I better go and get ready now – new shower – yay šŸ™‚

 

17:33 – Drained and struggling

17 Sep

I am so tired. I had to get up at 6.30am so that I could give the bathroom a clean, have a shower, get dressed and walk the dogs for 8am when the guys were coming to rip my shower out. They didn’t even appear until 8.45am, I could have had almost another hour in bed grrr. So everything has been ripped out and tomorrow all the new stuff goes in. Can’t wait til it’s over with, I hate people being in my personal space all day even though I know it’s to make the place look nicer.

I have spent the entire day from when I woke up until about 4pm doing uni work, I have pretty much done the whole of this week’s work in one day. But I have quite a few appointments and stuff this week and I still have a textbook chapter to read so it’ll be OK. I paid the money Mum gave me into the bank this morning and went straight onto amazon when I got home and bought my one remaining textbook I need. So hopefully it should arrive in a couple of days.

I feel really drained today, more than likely due to only having about 4 hours sleep. I feel like I could just close my eyes and doze off just now but the dogs will need another walk in about an hour plus it’s only just gone 5pm and I can’t go to sleep at this time or I’ll be awake again by 11pm and awake all night – the time the crazies start to get to me.

The weather today has been so horrible, really heavy rain all day long, I’m sick of looking at it and hearing it hitting off the windows. The sky is so grey and it certainly does nothing to lift my mood.

This morning the senior charge nurse from a&e phoned me. She had just received the letter that CPN sent saying that they must inform the mental health team of every time I attend a&e. The charge nurse was like, are you sure you are happy to agree to this because normally we only share your notes with your GP and that is it. She even said to me that after the recent sexual assault for example, only a couple of members of a&e staff knew about it, that they generally don’t discuss patients with each other even if they are regular attenders like myself. I told her it hadn’t been my idea, it was CPN’s idea and I said to be honest I don’t know if I want every single time I attend a&e sent to her, because I might have to attend for something non mental health related and it will automatically go to the mental health team as well now. Plus the fact that CPN is leaving very soon, social worker is still nowhere to be seen, and I don’t know what new CPN is going to be like… I don’t know if I’m going to get on well with her and whether I’ll want them getting notes of my a&e attendances. It also means they will know every single time I self harm and when they know then they can tell Mr Psychiatrist. Then again I guess GP could do that anyway.

So I said to her that I would agree to it for the moment but when this new CPN starts if I don’t feel that I want her knowing every time I attend a&e then I’d request for the mental health team to no longer be informed. As the charge nurse said to me on the phone, I’m a 30 year old woman, I’m an adult and can make my own choices on who I want to know what about my life. She said it was extremely unusual for them to be asked to share information about patient’s attending the a&e department (as obviously it’s confidential) and to be honest she didn’t sound particularly happy about doing it, but I said I agree for now, if I didn’t agree it would only be something for CPN to moan at me about on Wednesday.

I’ve never really been sure if I like the charge nurse, she is very serious in her attitude, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile, but she was actually really nice on the phone and said she saw I had been up on Wednesday and had self harmed and asked how I was feeling today and I told her about seeing GP and having to give her all the tablets and that I’d be up at the a&e dept tomorrow to get my stitches taken out. She said to me to remember if I needed help to go and see them, of course I said I would, but the reason I have stayed glued to my uni stuff all day is because every time I stop just for a second I want to self harm again. Even with people in my house I wanted to do it. And I’ve fought it and fought it but I’m tired and drained and struggling now. The guys are away home, but I promised my Mum I would try and stay safe and be in one piece when they get back from their holidays next Monday. Mum text me a couple of hours ago to say they have arrived at their hotel. I can’t remember if she said it was Paros or Paxos that they were going to, it’s a really small Greek island anyway.

Argh, the self harm thoughts are so strong it is horrible. I seriously don’t want to end up in a&e tonight and I don’t want to self harm during the night then go up in the morning to have stitches out and present with a new wound. I don’t want to slip, I must fight through this, or if I really must cut maybe one little shallow one would get it out my system just for the next few hours.

Blah.

I have to be at the hospital at 9.30am tomorrow to go to the sexual health clinic for my results that I forgot to get last Tuesday. I’m assuming everything has come back clear or they would have phoned or written to me saying I need to go back and see them.

I am struggling bad right now. There is so much damage I want to do to myself yet I don’t want the consequences. I’m trying really really hard to stay distracted but I don’t know if I’m going to manage to make it without at least doing one little cut just do get the urges out.