Tag Archives: sexual abuse

22:02 – Friday already…

9 Aug

Wow, I can’t believe it’s Friday already. This week has gone by seriously quickly. Maybe that’s because I’ve actually gone out of the house and done things, time definitely goes slower when I’m in self isolation mode.

Yesterday I had my appointment with lovely support worker from rape crisis. It was a good session, some of it was spent with me moaning about new psychiatrist and about these Lyrica (Pregabalin) tablets. The other part of it was me trying in some round about way to explain that every time I think of sexually abusive acts that have happened in my life I always find myself somehow excusing them or looking for reasons to justify them. It’s easier, so so much easier to blame myself and hold myself responsible for them all than it is to admit to myself that several males have actually wanted and enjoyed hurting me, who got pleasure out of hurting me…. one when I was just a child. The fact it happened again in adulthood means yet again I somehow asked for it to happen and deserved it to happen. Lovely support worker tried to reason with me and told me it wasn’t my fault but… I just don’t believe her šŸ˜¦

Today I went to my appointment with CPN#2 so that was our first appointment in 8, 10, 12 weeks… I don’t know, I do know it’s been quite a long time (again, my fault). So she had asked me to take my Compassionate Mind chapters in and she has said that she wants to get me to a place where I’m starting to grasp the basics and then hopefully the psychologist will be able to start offering me appointments again to do the Compassionate Mind stuff when it starts getting more in-depth. I arrived at the appointment and she said it was nice to see me and said “ok we have an hour, what would you like to use that hour to talk about?” I said I had a question: will I still continue to have CPN support when I start working with the psychologist again? Instead of answering me she wrote my question on a piece of paper. She then asked me what else I wanted to talk about and I said “I have a lot of concerns about the new psychiatrist, I don’t think the appointments have been helpful at all and I’m frustrated that after sending a long letter to him it appears to have achieved nothing”.

Again she wrote that down on a piece of paper. She asked if there was anything else I’d like to spend the appointment discussing and I said obviously I wanted to use most of the appointment to make a start on some of this Compassionate Mind stuff. Yes, she wrote that down as well.

She then turned the stopwatch on her phone on and propped it up against the window ledge so she could “make sure the appointment doesn’t overrun”. I hated it, every time I glanced at it I was getting distracted trying to work out how long we had left and the more I tried to think of the quick but concise ways to discuss my points the more I started going off at a tangent and forgetting what my point was. She said more than once “could you please stick to the point MCBL… this isn’t the question I have written down” Grrr. She annoyed me a bit today if I’m honest. She seemed to want to run the appointment as though she was following an agenda for a meeting. Once I’d finished blabbering on about my concerns of being discharged from CPN support once the psychologist returns and she repeatedly told me she didn’t know what would happen but did make sure she threw in the obligatory “we are pretty short staffed at the moment” line. She did say I wouldn’t be left completely on my own unless I made the decision to stop engaging with them. She then crossed ‘point number 1’ off the list and asked me what my concerns were regarding the new psychiatrist. I began to tell her about him wanting me to start on a drug that I really didn’t want to take and how I just can’t understand why the new psychiatrist wants to shake everything up when this is the longest I’ve gone for a while where I haven’t self harmed or been admitted to hospital. Although there’s been shitty days there have also been stable ones and I just don’t get why this new doctor is coming along and trying to change all that.

Her response was simply that I could ask for a second opinion if I wanted but that I’d probably find that all doctors are trying to get their patients off of daily benzodiazapines. I said to her I was now on a relatively low dose, I’ve been taking it every day for almost three years, I have no bad side effects, it helps me… why do they need to fix something that isn’t broken?!! So CPN#2 asked me what dose of Diazepam it is that I’m taking and I told her I was down to 16mg a day. She then tells me that this is not at all a “low dose” and even though I told her that GP had agreed it was a low-ish dose she started going on and on about 2mg or 4mg a day being a low dose and to be honest I don’t really know what else she had to say on the matter because I became distracted watching the numbers changing on the stopwatch phone app. I heard her saying something about how I could try writing him another letter but I couldn’t be doing with listening to her so I just said “lets move onto the compassionate mind stuff… I’ll leave the medication stuff to my GP when I see her next Friday” and she seemed quite happy to cross point two off her agenda.

So we move onto the Compassionate Mind printed out workbook. She has a copy and I have a copy. She asks me where I’d like to start and how much of it I’ve read. I hadn’t read any. I did plan to last night but I forgot. However she picked out an exercise – the body scan one – and asked if I’d like to do that. I actually remembered doing that one with the psychologist back in 2010/2011 when she was trying to get me to do the compassionate mind – sorry ‘Compassion Focused Therapy’ – back then. So CPN picks another bit and basically she read a couple of pages aloud and I read them in my head as she spoke. She then started talking about what ‘homework’ she could give me as she can’t see me again for almost a fortnight, so I agreed I would try and read through some of the first section of it and write down the bits I found easy to understand and what bits I struggled with. Then she got out her diary and we made an appointment for the 22nd August and I glanced at the stopwatch – it was up to 37 minutes – but apparently that is an hour in her eyes as she started getting to her feet and showing me towards the door. In honesty I found the appointment pretty useless in the end. I’m really starting to feel a bit fed up with the CMHT and it makes me not want to attend when I just feel no benefit from it.

I had a pretty quiet afternoon once I got home and have carried on having a pretty quiet evening. Tonight will be my third night on the new higher Mirtazapine dose of 45mg but I only really noticed that I had a bit of brain fog yesterday but it was less foggy today so I think my body is going to adjust to the new dose pretty quickly. Which is good, of course.

I don’t have anything planned for the weekend as yet, hoping it will stay dry so I can get out a good walk with the dogs up the hills for a while. I could do with some real proper exercise where I come home aching all over and feeling like I’ve had a good work out. Hopefully I’ll be in a mood to go be outdoors tomorrow and the fact that I’ve stayed in since 2pm today isn’t a sign I’m slipping back into self isolating mode.

We shall see……

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00:21 – Terrified of the wrong side winning

12 May

“Do you know what I’m really terrified of? The wrong side winning. It’s as though my mind has split in two and I have no control over it. And the thing is, I’m beginning to get confused about which side is right and which is wrong.”

(Victoria Leatham)

 

That quote above couldn’t be more true right now. My mind is split in two and it is driving me mad, it’s tormenting me constantly, it’s trying so hard to pull me backwards and make me fall with an almighty bang. I have two things going on inside my head right now and the voices keep cropping up as well, making sure that my head is constantly busy.

Over the past couple of weeks I have been finding it incredibly difficult to watch television. I feel as though everything I watch is trying to trigger me, like the programmes are being deliberately controlled by someone to make sure just about anything I try to watch either leaves me feeling panicky or in floods of tears. There are two reasons for this, one is that I can’t seem to watch anything even a tiny bit upsetting or I end up in these moments of intense sadness and tears. The other is because there have been so many alleged cases of historical sexual abuse by soap stars and TV presenters reported recently that I feel as though every time I see a news report it is trying to fuck my head up. I start to wonder if this is a deliberate attempt to see if watching TV could send me properly bonkers.

I don’t know if this will make any sense, but some of the men accused I associate with happy childhood memories of seeing them in kids TV programs and others I have kind of grown up with as TV soap stars. And because my childhood wasn’t always happy as I was abused myself for a large part of it, when I see these news reports this noise starts up in my head just of laughter, a sick laughter that goes on and on until I switch the TV off. It’s not good enough just to put it on standby, it must be switched off at the wall. When I see/hear these reports I feel as though the evil laughter in my head is just one final way of reminding me that even the innocent happy memories of my childhood can be tarnished so easily.

One part of me reacts to it all angrily – very angrily – and I find myself sitting here thinking that all men are complete wankers, that I will never have another relationship because at the age of 31 I’ve had so many bad experiences with men that I genuinely do not believe I could ever trust one again. Even in the last week I have seen yet again just how much they can leave me feeling dirty and ashamed. I got talking to a guy online and after a few nights talking online he asked if he could have my number. Like a fucking idiot I gave it to him and he called me for a chat. It was pretty awkward at first as I sort of clammed up and didn’t feel like I had much to say for myself – I fucking hate phone conversations, they make me feel really anxious when it’s someone I don’t know. But I stuck with it as I’d had my medication and waited to see if I would calm down a bit and be able to chat away to him. Eventually I did start to calm and we talked about loads of different things. It was him who said he had just seen someone posting one of those stupid sick jokes that always go round when the media report that well known people have been arrested on rape or abuse charges. He asked me what I thought of it and as I’d already been honest about my mental health problems I figured I’d try telling him the truth. So I told him I hated hearing about it all as it triggered a lot of memories from times I had been abused. He sounded a bit sad when I said that and asked me what had happened. I didn’t go into great detail about the adult experiences but told him I’d been abused by an older cousin throughout my childhood. He began to ask a lot of questions and I thought it was just his way of asking to understand what I’d gone through, he sounded like he was asking it in a caring sort of way, and even though it felt a bit weird to be having such a deep conversation with someone who was still a stranger it also felt nice to be able to be open from the start with someone. He began to ask more details – how old was I when it first happened? What did he make me do to him? What did he do to me? How did he get me to keep it a secret? I answered the first couple of questions feeling OK but the more questions he asked the more I started to feel a bit uncomfortable. I could hear his breathing going funny when I was talking. At one point I thought he had fallen asleep as the breathing became so loud. And then it dawned on me what he was doing on the other end of the phone. I didn’t want to believe it but I couldn’t ignore it, I had to ask him what he was doing? Why was he breathing like that? Had he fallen asleep? How I wish he had fallen asleep because I was completely unprepared for his upfront answer that he was “getting off”, what did I think he’d do if I started “talking like that”?

I hung up immediately and burst into tears, went over to the wall and stood there banging my head against it over and over until the tears stopped. I had allowed it to happen. I was to blame. I made him aroused by telling him about some of my most painful experiences. I felt so stupid. So fucking stupid. But it is just another incident to remind me thatĀ apart from my Dad and my brother, I must look at every man like he has the potential to hurt me even if it starts making my head go crazy. I’ve been getting these rushes of ideas going through my head, things that could land me in serious trouble if I were to act on them, like carrying some kind of weapon so that if I ever get caught off guard I’d be protected. But obviously that is highly illegal in this country. Usually when I am in some type of depressive or paranoid episode I prefer to go out during the night when nobody is around. The dark makes me feel safe and protected, the day time busy-ness makes me paranoid and anxious. But this time it’s different, the daytime busy-ness protects me and keeps me safe. At night time I am vulnerable and terrified. I might not be allowed to carry any type of weapon to protect myself but I do let one of the dogs off his lead and walk with it wrapped tightly around my hand, I hold the thick metal end tightly as images rush through my head telling me to make sure I’m ‘ready’ if anyone tries to hurt me in any way. Thankfully there is only one walk a day that I have to do when it’s dark but it is getting harder and harder because I have to stay so alert to anyone else whose around. I can’t relax, my heart beats so fast I can hear it in my chest and I keep one of the dogs next to me at all times because I know they will bark like mad if anyone approaches us, especially in the dark.

When I’m not thinking of all possible scenarios whereby a man could hurt me I am thinking about all the possible ways I could hurt myself. It’s not enough just having these violent thoughts towards potential ‘abusers’ – my thoughts race off in another direction telling me that I clearly deserve to be hurt and abused because it’s happened to me by so many men at various ages throughout my life. I must attract it somehow. They must be able to tell just by looking at me that by slipping something into a drink or by acting all caring and sweet to get me into a conversation with them that they’ll be able to make me do things for their perverted pleasures. They must just be able to tell by looking at me that they’ll be able to use me for what they want then fuck off and leave me to pick up the pieces. I told my support worker at Rape Crisis all of this on Wednesday and she told me it’s not uncommon for women who have been abused in some way to go on to have a string of abusive relationships or experiences. I think the sick fuckers can smell vulnerability and just have to try their luck. So yeah, along with the thoughts of wanting to castrate every man who has ever hurt me there are also a lot of thoughts and urges to self harm. I want to see the rivers of blood trickling out of me, I want to grab a blade and cut and cut and cut. But I don’t want to go to A&E, my legs are still in an absolute mess from the last self harm episode, I’ve got an area on one of the cuts where I think I’ve done some kind of nerve damage as there is a bit about the size of a 50p which is completely numb, I can’t feel a thing when I press down on it, even with something sharp.

It terrifies me to have thoughts about hurting other people and I have to keep telling myself over and over that I’m just being overly alert and that it IS safe to keep going outside. I know I would never act on them unless I was put into an extremely threatening position by someone. But then one part of my head screams so loudly that I deserve for another man to hurt me, I deserve to be used and abused and left even more broken than I am just now. And that just feeds the images and the urges to self harm again, because I believe I deserve to be cut, scarred and to look as disgusting as I do. I should look even more disgusting than I do now, I should be covered from head to toe in self mutilated wounds. Then no-one would ever want to come near me again. By making myself less and less attractive I can protect myself, or so the racing thoughts and occasional voices blurt out to me.

What was the quote I started with again?

“Do you know what I’m really terrified of? The wrong side winning. It’s as though my mind has split in two and I have no control over it. And the thing is, I’m beginning to get confused about which side is right and which is wrong.”

Which is the wrong side? I guess it’s the thoughts of hurting someone. I can’t control the thoughts, but I can control my actions. I think. And like the quote says, I truly am terrified of this side winning.

So which is the right side? I wish there was a side which believed that one day I will recover from all of this and achieve some things with my life. I wish I could believe there is a right side and it is going to be a place where if not happy, I’m at least content. But I don’t believe that is going to happen so instead I have to wonder if the right side is actually all these thoughts and encouraging voices telling me to hurt myself? Hurting myself feels right. It’s what I do. It makes me focus on a different kind of pain, a physical ache feels so much better than an emotional one. After all, I can see what is causing my pain when I can see that I’m covered in stitches and the variety of wounds all at various stages of healing.

I simply do not believe that I am ever going to escape these intrusive thoughts or escape from the self harming behaviours. I have been self harming for 17/18 years now. The voices have come and gone so many times I’ve lost count over the past 4 years or so. Feeling different in every way from every one I know has been a part of my life for too long now, and whilst I may have avoided any psych hospital admissions for over a year, my head is still very messed up. I don’t feel in control, I feel like something dark and sinister is controlling me, something that only gives me very occasional glimpses of feeling normal or even the tiniest glimpse of happiness, and then snatches them away from me… coming back every single time to ensure they can torment me a little bit more.

I still have so much more to say but I think I better end this post now, it’s got pretty long and the more I write the more messed up my head gets. I was also going to mention that whilst I did go to see my support worker on Wednesday, I phoned up with an excuse not to see CPN#2 on Friday. I think I just didn’t want to take the chance of opening up and all of the above pouring out because I already know what her response will be. It will be the usual bollocks about how I “will get better” and “will get through this” I just need to “learn coping techniques” that will work for me and then my life will somehow miraculously be cured of any mentalness. Plus there is the risk if you mention even having violent thoughts towards others – even if you know you wouldn’t act on them – that they still might get concerned enough to start assessing if you could really be a risk to others. And I’m not… well so long as no one tries to hurt me I’m not. Isn’t that a complete contradiction? I don’t want anyone to hurt me yet the only way I know to cope is to hurt myself? It might not make a great deal of sense to anyone apart from me.

On that note I think it is time for bed. I might try and write some more tomorrow if I feel like I can write something that makes a bit more sense. I don’t know if any of the 2500 words I’ve just written even make any sense at all. But my medication is kicking in and I need to try and sleep… I’m sure I’ve been writing this for over an hour now.

Goodnight folks, and I hope you’re all having a good weekend xx

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

01:03 – Learning not all men are bad

14 Feb

As is becoming the norm at the moment I’ll start tonight’s ramble with a Charlie dog update. He has got his belly compression bandage off – I’m not entirely sure why as the vet took it off during the night but then was off today so I’ll ask her tomorrow as it was supposed to be staying on for a week. He seemed happy to see me today, the tail was wagging and I got slobbery kisses! I think he was a bit more chilled out because he’d got to spend the day on the big doggy bed in the office as there was only 2 staff in, rather than in his kennel. He was a bit reluctant to go into his kennel when I was leaving but a little bit of food enticed him in and he soon settled down. I’ll pop in again for half an hour tomorrow afternoon or should I say later today – didn’t even realise it was past midnight!

What else have I done today? I had an appointment with my support worker at rape crisis. It’s becoming more and more apparent each week that I have a session with her that I have built up much more of a wall around me than what I first thought. We talked about some situations where I was alone with males and how I seem to view pretty much every single one of them as a potential threat now. I didn’t even realise just how much I was constantly “on guard” and actually how tiring it is to live that way – always paranoid that something bad could potentially happen. We talked about me trying out a method whereby, the next time I find myself in a situation where it’s just one male and me that I have to weigh up the probability or likelihood of that particular male being any sort of danger to me. For example, being alone with my Dad I know I am safe and he is no danger to me and the likelihood of him ever being a danger to me isĀ minuscule. If I was to attend an appointment with Mr Psychiatrist or a male GP and was in a room alone with them but inside a building with other people I know the likelihood of them doing anything to me again is tiny.

But a night out where there is drink or possibly drugs involved is riskier, peoples behaviour becomes unpredictable and then maybe in that situation it is OK to be a little bit on guard because the likelihood of someone touching me in a way I don’t want to be touched is a little bit higher. So yeah, we spent quite a while talking about all sorts of situations and how likely it would realistically be for there to be danger or cause to keep myself alert to what’s going on around me.Ā So it was quite a good session and she left me with some things to think about. I guess if I can start assessing situations and becoming more comfortable around guys again then I can start to believe that not all men are bad.

After the appointment I met up with my Mum and she took me shopping so my fridge is no longer empty and I have enough food to last at least five days šŸ™‚ It has been a horrible day here, I woke up to see thick snow covering the ground then all afternoon it rained that horrible sleety stuff – it still looks pretty horrible out and I need to take my other little dog out for a walk before bed.

Tomorrow I have to get some studying done. I’m waiting to hear back from my student support advisor though, she replied to my email where I explained I was struggling a lot at the moment and I asked if I could just do one module this semester and re-take the other one over the summer or something. So she replied to say she thought that was a good idea but had to find out which of the two modules I should do at the moment and which I could drop for now. She said she should have an answer for me by the end of the week. If I could drop down to one then I think I would have a much better chance of being able to catch up and keep up with the lesser workload.

Anyway seeing as it’s almost 1am I guess I better go out with the dog for a quick walk and get myself to bed. Oh, and happy valentines day to any of you loved up romantics out there!

15:43 – Loud whispers in my head

13 Jan

After my last blog post on Wednesday I went to my appointment with my support worker. It was a good session with plenty of talking and listening however I had a few moments during it where she was trying to tell me why something we were talking about was not my fault, cue the giggle and a loud whisper in my head

“she’s talking shit, you fucking deserved it alright”Ā 

Then I’d lose my concentration for a moment and forget what we were talking about. She’d go back to talking about why this particular incident wasn’t my fault and start asking me if I had a child standing in front of me telling me that these things were happening to them would I blame them? Would I say “sorry but yes you’re right, it was your fault” ??

I shook my head and said no, of course not. That a child is never to blame. But then I tried to explain that for me it is easier to believe I was abused because I did something bad to deserve it than to try and comprehend that I was innocent. Innocent up to and during the point when someone who was supposed to love me as family became evil and twisted enough to do those things to me when I was just a child. And then, of course, if you are abused again as an adult, then it is even easier to say “it was my fault, I deserved it, I was bad” than to accept I could actually just have been that unlucky for it to happen by more than one person.

But support worker said at the end of the session that she did see a little glimpse of progress, as for the first time, I opened my mind to accept there could have been other reasons why I was abused other than simply because I was bad or deserved it. And whilst I might not really believe those other reasons right now, I can accept they are plausible ones. (Well for other people anyway).

So Wednesday was a bit of a hectic day with seeing lovely GP and seeing support worker and I had lots of thoughts swirling around my head for the remainder of the day.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday have passed in a bit of a haze. I’ve been taking the increased dose of 750 mg Quetiapine for 4 days now and other than my mouth being dry and feeling slightly clumsy and a bit disconnected at times I’ve not really noticed any other side effects. Unfortunately the urges to self harm just don’t seem to want to calm down and they are pretty much constant. I think I have fought the fight against doing it for long enough now, it is obvious the only way they are going to stop is if I act on them. But I so don’t want to end up needing stitches or anything so if I do it then I need to try and release all these crazy head urges superficially.

Sorry, a bit of a pointless ramble seems to be what I needed to write down. My thoughts feel all choppy, quickly going from one to another to another. It’s hard to stay focused or concentrate when your thoughts drift so fast. There is no way I will be able to do my part time university course if I can’t control my thoughts. And I only have about a week or so before I start back. I need to get my head together.

I just don’t know how to do it.

Protected: 01:11 – The ‘first time’ I self harmed – the long version

14 Nov

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Protected: 23:12 – The child within – Triggering post

15 Jul

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Protected: 03:44 – Downplaying our traumas

8 Mar

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