Tag Archives: worrying

15:19 – Tougher than I thought

14 Jun

I have been really trying to keep myself busy since I last posted as the past few days have been tougher than I thought. I’m noticing that as soon as I don’t have something to do my head keeps wandering off to thoughts about the blood test results this coming Tuesday. I keep running through all the if’s, but’s and maybe’s, I keep imagining all sorts of things like how the doctors face would look and what she would say if the test came back positive. I wonder whether I should go on my own or take someone with me. I just seem to think think think, constantly running through every possible outcome and scenario in my head.

Yesterday I went to my appointment with my rape crisis support worker and she offered to come with me to get the results but then when I said it was Tuesday I had to go she realised she would be in another area at the time so she can’t come after all. I got a good bit off my chest in our appointment though and whilst I’m still terrified of getting the results, I think I’m probably also trying to mentally prepare myself for bad news. I just can’t allow myself to think “it will probably be negative” instead it’s like I have to prepare myself for the worst so that if I do get bad news I don’t fall to pieces.

So after my appointment I went to meet best friend and the kids and we decided to spend the afternoon together and go for some lunch. We went to a really nice place that felt like it was in the middle of nowhere, it was an old barn on a farm converted into a little restaurant with a kids play corner to keep them busy. After we had finished eating we got to pick some fresh rhubarb and collect the eggs the hens had been laying so it was a nice stress-free couple of hours as the kids were occupied and best friend could relax and chat without constantly having to tell them to behave. I decided to tell her about the HIV test on our way back home as the kids had fallen asleep in their car seats. She instantly offered to come with me and when I told her how worried I’ve been/still am she said I should have told her and not kept it bottled up. Anyway, at least I know now that she will come with me on Tuesday if I decide I can’t face going on my own and it helped again to get some of the worries off my chest.

We decided to take the ‘scenic route’ home and it took forever! Thankfully I had taken some diazepam in my bag because the road seemed never ending and consisted of a single track road that went on for about 20 miles but we couldn’t go faster than 30mph the whole time we were on it, plus the drop into a ditch on one side and the drop down into the water on the other side didn’t help lessen my anxiety. As we decided to stop off at a couple of places on the way home and we popped in to see best friend’s aunt for a while it ended up being 7pm by the time I finally got back home. Then of course I spent all of last night sitting here worrying myself stupid again.

This morning I had an appointment with the dietician but I didn’t hear my alarm going off and missed it so I’ll need to phone and get another one. I can’t remember if I already said this in my last post but I got a letter at the start of the week from CPN#2 asking me to make contact with her as I haven’t attended the last couple of appointments she’s given me. In fact I think that’s a good 3 or 4 weeks now since I last saw her. Needless to say I still haven’t contacted her.

Part of me actually feels like disengaging with the mental health team and just doing it alone as CPN#2 and my old psychologist (who I’m supposed to be seeing again in the near future) both want me to do this Compassionate Mind program. They both really believe that learning the skills that program teaches will help me live with less anxiety and be able to be kind to myself and soothe myself as opposed to harming myself. But I just don’t think it’s right for me, I have a really hard time in grasping the very basics and it doesn’t help matters that I have this deep seated belief that I do not deserve any compassion. So the combination of not wanting to do that work with them and the recent disaster of an appointment with the new psychiatrist last week both just leave me thinking I don’t want to work with these people, I don’t really want to see them, I don’t think I’m going to find any benefit from seeing them or from doing this whole being compassionate towards yourself shit. I am still planning on sending a letter to new psychiatrist to explain all of my concerns from our appointment but I want my support worker to help me write it (which we were going to do at yesterday’s appointment but then it was spent with me freaking about the blood test results).

Talking of the blood test results (again) I don’t know if I’m more pleased or scared that I have got through Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and now we’re on Friday so I really just need to get through the weekend now. Halfway through a long seven days. As soon as I’m finished rambling on here I need to go and get some food shopping done as my fridge and cupboards are empty. I don’t have anything planned for tonight so I’ll need to find something to do to keep me distracted and then tomorrow I need to get a card and present seeing as it’s father’s day here in the UK on Sunday. So at least I have some things to do to try and pass some more time. Hopefully the weekend will fly by for as much as I’m terrified about the results I really just want to know now one way or the other so I can deal with whatever outcome I’m given.

Right… ramble over…

Have a nice weekend folks xx

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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.

17:26 – Just fucking crazy

1 Aug

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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