Puinishment And Schema Therapy.

"I have often been severe in the course of my life towards others. That is just. I have done well. Now, if I were not severe towards myself, all the justice that I have done would become injustice. Ought I to spare myself more than others? No! What! I should be good for nothing but to chastise others, and not myself! Why, I should be a blackguard!"

– Inspector Javert in Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables

I really empathise with this statement. How can I let the things I have done to others and also to myself go unpunished. 

This post will be talking quite a bit about self harm, so if anyone reading it is feeling vulnerable at the moment, perhaps not best to read on.

I think I have figured out some of the patterns for my self harm. For the different ones and why I do them. 

Take the cutting. This is usually when I need a release, I need some reprieve from the feeling of feeling so low that I need to escape from that for just a short while. The rush of endorphins is what I chase. That feeling of getting deeper and deeper, taking the risk that you are going to hit a vein, hit something. Pushing yourself further each time, then the stitches if I can't manage it myself tell me how bad it was from if any internal ones were needed, how many external ones there are. 

Most the time the next day the guilt kicks in. I feel that I shouldn't have cut. That I have yet again been to hospital taking up peoples time to deal with me, someone who has inflicted the injury on them self. Someone who obviously doesn't hold much regard for their own life and has been seen numerous times at the local ED being treated for things that I have brought on myself. There are people in the ED who need to be there, who want to be there to be treated to be made well, to be discharged from hospital and be well. I will be discharged, and knowing how it has gone in the past, I will be back again with a similar. So, it makes sense really when the staff often don't treat you well. 

So there is also the shame the next day. I also feel like a failure for ending up self harming. I have let myself down, I have not met the standards that I set myself, I am failing in my recovery, I am failing the people who have put so much time and effort in to me, and I have not been the easiest person being stubborn and all that. Think I know best and need a lot of convincing other wise. I also find it hard to accept help. Although, that is changing now. I have let my family and friends down, they have this illusion of me being well. That that is all behind me. I have let people down and I have let myself down.

So, I feel the need to punish myself in some way. This can take a couple of forms. The main one is swallowing items. For a while after I get a bit panicky that I have caused some damage, that I will have to have another operation and spend months in pain with my stomach. It took over a year for me to finally be free of the pain. A reminder every day that I had caused serious damage to myself. And of course now a huge scar pretty much from my naval to breast bone. 

But I continue to do it. Not in a few weeks. But I still have a box of things that I turn to when I feel I need to.

This kind of punishment can also come from letting people down, if I have said I would do something and then I am not able to as I have got mixed up with dates, if I have been feeling to low to get out the house, if I cant do something for practical reasons, and then I am left worrying that this person if put out, the feelings that I have let someone down escalate. This, usually ending in swallowing something.

It also comes from letting myself down. If I have not achieved what I wanted to do. If I have failed in something or if I have not met the standards I set myself. If I have not lost weight that week, if I have had a bad week with following the plan, if I got drunk and then drunkenly gave in to that late night chicken and chips or garlic bread. If I have been lazy and have not been to the gym in a while. When I failed to get back on to the uni course I wanted to do. Then the swallowing begins again. It's usually on a daily basis for a few days.

Other ways in which I self harm by punishment is by controlling what I eat. In that I don't eat at all for days on end. Usually happens a few times a year. I have gone without for about 10 days before, not healthy I know. But this was because I felt I didn't deserve nice things. I didn't deserve my basic staples. 

Other times when I have self harmed as punishment was when I spoke to my friend about what happened on that holiday when I was 15. 14 years ago now. But I can't let it go. It is something that often plagues me. I blame myself a lot for it. I should have been more forceful, I should have done something, fought back a little. I feel as though I let it happen. I was 15, I was a kid. He was 30. And I later found out a married man with a kid on the way. I remember feeling as though I had just been used. It was horrible. I remember small details about that day. Weird details about the clothes I was wearing, the drink I drank when I got back to the hotel room. Telling my parents I was ill and laying in bed crying afterwards. But I felt that I moved on. I didn't think about it. It was only really about 3-4 years ago when I thought about it when my cousin turned 15. At 15 you don't see yourself as a kid. But you are. I saw my cousin, and she was a kid. And I realised more so that it was wrong.

For so long all I thought about was the impact it had had on me. I felt shameful, I felt defective, I felt as thought I had failed. And I felt awful that I hadn't considered other people he may have done the same with. OK, it didn't have a huge impact on me, not for long. But what about other people. There could have been people that are scarred by it, people who have nightmares. People he really hurt. I felt so bad for not considering these people. To me, I don't see what happened between him and me as rape, but other people may. But I can't do anything about it. Mainly because of the shame of the situation. I didn't want to do anything about it as because it would probably lead to what happened coming out. I could be seen as a promiscuous female, my mental health history would be dragged up and I would be questioned about that. I would be seen as though I am doing it for attention. I can't have that. I can't have my integrity and my personal life exposed like that. It could possibly help others but I really don't think I can take the risk. Around this time I did start drinking a lot, some nights a whole bottle of vodka. Just to block out what was going round in my head.

I feel it is my own fault. There is nothing I can do about it. And when this all came up over the summer last year, the swallowing and controlling started again.

Then there is the money I stole when I was 13. I was 13, I knew right from wrong. Other people may have forgiven me for it, but I have never forgiven myself. I hate myself for it. It makes me a failure, it makes me defective, I fail in meeting my own standards of how a person should be. I don't come anywhere near them. It affects me massively now and I really panic if someone misplaces something or lose something in case they think I have had something to do with it. I get really anxious and the anxiety stays with me which can lead to urges to cut. Because of the shame, the sense of failure, I feel the need to punish myself to relieve some of that anxiety. So yet again swallowing. 

The overdoses are sometimes as punishment. The most recent one was because I had yet again failed to hold it together. I had let people down, I worried people and I didn't meet their expectations and didn't meet mine. Just a small OD. Wasn't an attempt at my life or anything. Just enough to possibly make me a bit sick. 

In the past they have been prescription medication to knock me out. To take me away from the real world and in to a dream like state. I couldn't cope with where I was and what was going on, so I took a few extra tramadol knowing that they make me go into a dream like floating state. Again not enough to do any damage as was only twice the daily dose. 

I suppose I can find reasons behind most of the self harm actions. Some control, some punishment, some relief. There are some I don't understand though.

Out of Hospital

I made the right decision to leave. I was ready to leave. I am not brilliant, but I am managing better. A lot better. I think it is because I was able to get some sleep, they have started me on a new medication which has helped with the anxiety and I feel as I can cope better.

I knew it was time to leave yesterday when I was bored. In that I couldn't face another day sitting doing nothing other than listening to my music. I needed more stimulation. So, that is a good sign for me.

It was not easy being there though. I did have a couple of slip ups, one where I ended up being restrained and jabbed in the bum with medication and another where the police were involved.

I was really struggling and declined to take medication. They said I was doing my self more harm than good refusing the medication so I was restrained and jabbed in the bum. I fought until the last minute. Not sure why as I know I am never going to beat 5 people holding me down. But I was determined I didn't want or need it. In hindsight, I did and they did the right thing. I should have just conceded and taken the medication.

The second incident was on Saturday evening. I was going out to the shop to get some dinner. But on the way there I had a massive panic/anxiety attack. I was paranoid that someone was following me and that if I went to the shop something was going to happen to me. So, I got in a taxi and went home. Mistake. While I was at home the paranoia and anxiety took over and I was seeing things pretty much constantly and I could only see one way out of it all and that was taking an OD to end it. So I popped pretty much all the pills I had in the house and prepared to take them. I also made a noose with some leggings. As I was working it all out I didn't think I would have enough to do the job and didn't want it to just make me sick. So, I started having doubts. I knew if I do end my life it is not going to be on impulse. So I flushed them down the toilet and ran out the flat. I took the noose with me and concealed it on my person.

I wasn't sure where I was going but I started walking the 4 miles back to the hospital. I got most the way and saw I had had a voice mail from the hospital. I had seen I had had had a missed call earlier, but ignored it but the voice mail hadn't come through. They said they were worried about me and could I please get in contact with them. So I did call them. I told them I was walking back, but I was really struggling with my thoughts and feelings and was having urges to jump in front of the traffic or jump off the bridge near to the hospital over the train line. I explained to them where I was and they said if I waited at the McDonald's that they would send a taxi for me, and they told me the name of what taxi company it would be. I went in to Macca's and got a bottle of water. Next thing I know there is a police car zooming past on blue lights pulling in to the road at the side. I see them turn around and come back towards me so I walk off, hoping they hadn't seen me and I could get back without an escort by the police. No such luck. He caught up with me and told me nicely to go with them and they would take me back.

I got back on the ward and was searched, but they didn't find anything. I did take a small OD while I was out. I didn't take it to kill me but to space me out as I know those pills do. I only took about 10. I felt fine until about 4 hours later when I was a walking zombie. My BP was very low apparently 90/50. I was feeling spaced out, but also really sick. I had taken a small OD earlier that day as well while I was out in the morning of antihistamines, hoping that they would also make me drowsy and just make me sleep. I didn't take it to kill me. I just wanted some respite from the feelings I was having.

All day Sunday I slept pretty much all day. I got what I wanted. With an early night Sunday night, yesterday I felt a lot better and I knew as I was feeling bored, I needed to be discharged. They agreed. I am not sure they would have agreed if they knew about the small ODs. But, they let me go.

While things are not fantastic at the moment, they are better than they were. I am still low, I do still have some thoughts. But the anxiety has reduced and I am better able to cope with the thoughts that I have.

I am seeing the Psychologist in a bit. I am not sure what to tell him about how I have managed to turn it around as I don't think telling him it took a small OD of pills than made me in to a zombie for the day is an effective way. And then there is the whole having to go to hospital etc, that he may make me do to get checked out. Then if I don't the possibility of having to have a mental health act assessment. Although the reason I don't want to go to the hospital is because of being made to wait hours for blood tests. Not because I want it to kill me. So, I don't think they would do a mental health act assessment because of that.

So that has been my last few days.

A Host

I'm not me. My body is just housing someone or something else. It's not me experiencing all of this. The thoughts aren't mine. It's telling me to harm. To do something. Faces are distorted. For a couple of seconds it looks like they are melting. Right off their face.

That smell is following me around. I can't escape it. It's so strong.

Shadows in the window, things crawling on the walls. What look like spiders and cockroaches.

I am not myself. I am someone else.

Hospital

I'm currently an impatient on a ward. Luckily it's informal. Think it will be about a week as a respite. Got to come up with a contract with them about no harm. As if I harm that requires intervention they'll discharge me. Doesn't quite make sense to me that if I'm harming I get kicked out. I see it as though I'm harming so I dn't do anything worse. So discharging me is the worst thing they can do.

Anyway. That was just a short update.

No Room At The Inn.

There are no beds available. I have been told possibly tomorrow, but I am not holding out for it.

I have taken the last of my emergency stash of meds. I don't mean an OD. Just a zopiclone, some diazepam and a quetiapine. Should hopefully knock me out for the night and get me a decent nights sleep.

Tomorrow is a new day.

I am being quite rational at the moment. I haven't self harmed, I haven't tried to do any serious damage. I haven't swallowed anything. So it would seem as though I am coping.

Am I making the right decision? Perhaps I don't need hospital and I am being too hasty? Am I? In the past I have been adamant that I don't need hospital. And, I am not sure if I have. Am I giving up. Am I going to see that being in hospital is rock bottom and then just let it all wash over me and stop fighting. Is it a way of surrendering to it all?

Perhaps I am not being rational at the moment. I really don't know my own mind. I don't think I will get to see G until next Tuesday still. It sounds stupid, but I feel as though I need to offload all this on him. See what he says. I think that sometimes he knows me better than anyone else. In some ways as well though, I want someone else to make the decision for me. In that if I could tell him all this and he said go in, then I would know it would be the right thing to do.

I rely on him too much. I rely on other people too much. I need to learn to trust my own mind and not be dependent on people. But there are times when I need other people to take control for me. If I am in control then I do stupid things like self harm, like OD.

I don't know if I am getting swamped by my own thoughts. I don't know what I am thinking? Perhaps because I have said that I need to go in, I don't. In the past I have said I don't need to be there and I have needed it.

I really can't trust myself.

I don't understand why I am having these really intense suicidal thoughts. I have been looking online at methods again. Doses of pills to take. Ways to end it all. But, then, on the other hand there are things I am looking forward to. The trip with the girls. The walk. So, why am I getting these thoughts. Why are they so intense. Why? If there was nothing positive in my life at the moment, I could understand why. But there are positive things. It's not as though stuff has all gone to shit and I have been having these thoughts.

That worries me. That it can come from no where. That even when things are looking up for me, that yet again, it comes and rears its very ugly head.

What does this mean for me?

Hospital Again?

I've said if there is a bed I will go in for a few days.

I called crisis team last night. And again today. They came out to visit me and talked me in to it.

I haven't done anything. I haven't self harmed, but I need to keep myself safe. I am having massive harm urges and also suicidal urges. But, I am trying my hardest not to act on them. Although there are suicidal urges there, there are things I want to do. I want to do this walk in May. I want to go on this massive holiday with the girls. If I am dead I won't be able to. If I act on the urges and don't succeed I won't be able to. And, I think that being in hospital, could possibly help at the moment.

I spoke to my Dad and shattered their illusion that I am doing well. I said I hadn't done anything but I was struggling. He said if I felt that it would help and that they had suggested it then it could be for the best.

So, I am waiting to hear if there is a bed. If there is I will probably be going in tonight. But I really doubt that there is a bed. There never is when I need it.

I do have my worries. I can't help but think of the time that I went in informally and I ended up in for a long time, and 8 months on a PICU. I am also worried that now I have admitted that I need to be in, that they will force me in to the hospital and ward that I can't stand. That makes things worse for me. Last time I said I would go in they couldn't find a bed on the ward that is beneficial. So, I then said I couldn't go on that ward as it makes things worse for me. But, when there were no beds they said that I would have to have a MHA assessment if I didn't go to that ward. So, I am worried about that. If I am honest and had to have an assessment I wouldn't get through it. So, I suppose I would have to go where they send me.

The more I think about it now, I wish I hadn't agreed to this.

Struggles

I am a bit of a mess. I am really struggling with intense thoughts of self harm. Also thoughts of ending it all. I really don't know how I am managing to hold it together and not act on them.

I saw G yesterday. I told him how I was feeling. That I keep telling myself just to do it. To cut as that is what I want to do. That it is inevitable that it is going to happen, so why keep fighting it, I may as well just give in. It will be easier and I will feel better. Why am I fighting these feelings, it is inevitable that I am going to cut. So, I should just do it right? Why keep struggling when it is what I want. What I need to bring me some relief.

I think I know why I haven't though. Because I am so tired. I know if I cut it will require treatment. And, I am too tired to go spend hours in a hospital waiting for treatment. There is the walk in centre but that closes at 9. So now, I can't. I am too tired to go to the hospital. So, I won't cut. Not tonight anyway.

G mentioned the H word. In that I am talking about hospital. He asked me if I wanted to be in. I said no way. He asked me if I needed it and I had to think about it. He asked me if it would be helpful. I said I really didn't want to go in. I said there were a number of reasons. I said I couldn't as it would let people down. People think I am doing so well at the moment, I can't let people down by them knowing I am not well again. I have a big holiday coming up with the girls. I don't want them to know I am not doing well as they will be worrying about whether or not I am well enough to go, I don't want them worrying. I don't want to be "that one" again.

I don't want my parents and family worrying about me. I don't want people breathing down my neck watching my every move. I have my space at the moment. I want it to remain that way. I also said that if I do decide to go back to uni, it is not going to help me when they see I have been in hospital again. I also said I was worried that if I did I could end up being in a long time. OK, so the last 3 informal admissions have been short ones, I can't help but remember the time I went in informally, then the next day was put on a section then ended up in the PICU for 8 months. I don't want to take that risk.

But, in some weird way it is appealing. When it has got to the stage where I am in hospital, it has got to the worst possible point. People know, I don't need to hide it. I can surrender and don't need to fight it any more. In some ways it is a relief. Does anyone else have that? That they can stop the fight? Someone taking the control away from me and giving me some respite. It is appealing. But I can't go there. Not again. As much as it is appealing. I can't take that risk.

I also talked to him about the scars and how much they bothered me. He said he would talk to the doctor about it. There's nothing that anyone can do. There is no way I can get surgery on them when they are self inflicted and it's not that long since I last did it last. And, I will probably do it again. So, nothing that can be done really is there? My own fault, it's my own doing. It's my own fault that I detest myself and I feel so ugly. It's my own doing, so I suppose I should just find a way to deal with it.

You've Not Self Harmed, So, You Must Be Doing OK!

Arhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I am struggling so much at the moment. Thoughts, urges everything in overdrive. I am seeing things and it really scares me. Things come to life, faces in the window. Last night the smells started. It really scares me.

Self harm has never been the issue for me. It's the way I feel. What happens to me when I feel like this. The lack of sleep, the thoughts, the way in which I feel is so low, so hopeless, and even though I do know it will end, I still feel like it is going to last forever. Rational thought goes out the window.

In the past I have used self harm as a way of coping when I feel like this. It gives a temporary release, it gives a sense of control, it feels like the lid on the pressure cooker has been taken off. It takes something away, which does make things that little bit easier to handle.

But self harm isn't acceptable is it? It's socially unacceptable. It leaves you with scars. People see the scars and think that you are crazy that you would harm yourself like that. That you are unstable. That there is something wrong with you? So that is why I am trying not to self harm. I don't want any more scars. There's also a chance that I won't be able to go to the gym as it would be too painful on the wound. I am trying to lose weight. I am trying to make myself feel better about myself. I want to continue to go. I am also training for a long distance walk, so I am trying to get fit, I don't want to let people down. Also, there is something about getting lost in the music and really pushing myself to the extreme that I quite like, it is a control thing in a way, in how much I can control what I do, what limit can I push myself to. In some ways, sometimes like the self harm in how much pain can I inflict on myself. A test!

So that is why I haven't broken up a razor and cut yet. I am really fighting hard. If I can't go to the gym, I won't lose weight when it comes to weigh day, this in turn will make me feel worse about myself and make me feel more ugly.

The scars make me feel defective. They make me feel really ugly. I have pushed away people who I could be close to as I don't want them to see the scars. Even more so I have lost weight. I can see an end in sight with my weight. I want to lose another 2.5 stone. So I am more than half way now. I am the smallest I have been since I was about 18-19. I am still a size 14-16 on top and 18 on the bottom. I aim to be a 14 on bottom, and 12 in dresses. Now I see the end in sight, my scars have been a massive bother again. I will never feel good about myself. They are always going to be there. It's more socially acceptable to be over weight than to be scarred by self harm isn't it? Even though the person who is over weight could possibly be slowly killing themselves. They are setting themselves up for a MI, a stroke, diabetes. My BMI is still around 31. So, I am at higher risk of these. But, you don't look at a fat person and think what the hell is wrong with them, why would they do that to themselves, why would they slowly kill themselves. I don't look at people with scars like that, but I am sure there are more people out there who look at self harm like that. That look at it as a way of attention seeking behaviour. Crazy behaviour!

And, every time I see them it invokes different emotions. Most of the time it is disgust with myself, I feel defective, I feel ugly. Then I remember why they are there. How I felt when I was doing it. The sense of relief and that it is such an easy way to release some of pain, how it gives me a sense of control, the euphoric feeling I get when doing it. And it makes me want to go and do it all again. Only rarely, I can see them and be thankful I am not in that place I was then, that I am not in hospital and that I am trying. At the moment though, I am not there. Because I feel like I am back in that place.

I am low, I am seeing things, I am smelling things, I am battling with urges to self harm, I am battling with urges to end it, I fantasise scenarios and which I can end it.

I told this to the doctor yesterday. His response was a long the lines of that I've not self harmed, so I must be doing ok! Grrrrrrrr.

Actually no. It's harder than it was before. It is much harder. I am not going to cut. I need to train for this long distance walk, I need to get fit, I don't want to be seen at the fat crazy one when I go to the USA with the girls in May. I want to do something that makes me feel better about myself. If I cut, I am not sure if I will be able to continue to do that. I don't want to be the big one in the group. I want to blend in to the background.

I have told G most of this about how I feel and other people in the past. They tell me that other people's opinions don't matter and that I shouldn't be caught up on what people think of me. That this is my main problem, that I worry too much about other people's opinions. That possibly through psychology we can work towards changing that. That these feelings are part of my personality that are ingrained in me and that with therapy we can work towards changing that. He's never said that, but sometimes that is how I feel that they possibly think. Is it so wrong to be worried about people's opinions of you? To be worried about what people think? I don't think so.

People see that I am managing to go to the gym, that I manage to see friends and family, that I haven't been in hospital since April last year, that I haven't cut, that I haven't got so drunk I have passed out and they assume that I am ok. They think I am coping. Well, I'm not. If anything it is worse for me. It also makes me think that they think I have self harmed as a way of getting across just how much I am struggling. That, I do it to show them I am not ok. It pisses me off. Most of the time I don't even tell them about the self harm. I don't tell them about the swallowing, I don't tell them every time I have cut or harmed in anyway. I have only tended to tell them when I have had to seek medical treatment, because there is a good chance that they will find out anyway, so I may as well tell them.

Does anyone else find it harder when they are fighting the urges and won't let themselves self harm?

I Am A Terrible Person...

I have to write about this, for me, more than anything. I have to get my thoughts and feelings down to try and make some sense of them. I may even get stick for this, but I can't help the way I feel.

It's to do with my Mum. She has told my immediate family she has joined AA. Yet, for some reason I can't be supportive and it's annoying me. Yes, she has an alcohol problem, yes she is probably an alcoholic, but the way in which she is going about this irritates me.

I have written before about the problems I have had around my mother's alcohol consumption and how it makes me feel. How it makes me incredibly anxious and I used to lie awake at night when she was downstairs getting pissed. I would lie there worrying that she would fall and hurt herself or that she would then get angry and start up the arguments and laying in to my Dad, and then starting on me. This would usually be a long the lines of how selfish I was for being ill and that I just needed to get my shit together as people were bored of it and fed up of me. Some very hurtful stuff was said. One of the reasons, possibly the main reason why I moved out was because of her drinking and I couldn't stand living in that environment any more. I couldn't cope with it and it was not good for my mental health. Since I have moved out, I have been doing so much better. I am able to cope a lot better. But anyway, I digress.

They were supposed to be going away for New Year. The day they were supposed to go I got a text from her saying that they weren't going because she got very drunk the night before and my Dad had cancelled it. And that she couldn't blame him. I don't know exactly what went on, but I would think it is something a long the lines of she got violent towards him again and layed him to him about how when they were split up, he had a relationship with someone else. This is the usual pattern. She starts hitting out at him and calls him all the names under the sun. She writes notes all through his work diary calling him names and having a go at him. And if he is not there, sends him abusive text messages all through the night.

It must have been a quite bad night because she was obviously feeling a sense of regret about it.

I didn't want to see her over the next few days because to be honest I was really angry, and at my Dad for putting up with it. So I avoided going round to their house. A few days later I did see her as she had the car and she wanted to get it back to me so I could use it. On the way back to theirs, she told me she had joined AA.

So, considering how much her alcohol consumption affects me and those closest to me. Why does this really irritate me?

I feel like such a terrible person. But, I don't feel as though I can support her with it.

I think some of it is because of the way she is with things in general. If I am honest, I don't see it lasting. Nothing she does ever lasts. In the past she has said she isn't going to drink at all between Xmas and Easter, yet, only the 4th of January she is pissed again. She said she is going to go to counselling to try and get past the issues she has around my Dad seeing someone else when they were broken up. When, she had moved out in to a house, spent all her savings on getting the house all set up, had separated all their financial matters, and had even contacted lawyers about divorce proceedings. The counselling lasted a few weeks and she hasn't been back.

I admit, I think she is an alcoholic, and she needs help. But, why can't I be supportive.

The way in which she is talking about it as well gets to me. It irritates me. She is going to meetings every day, sometimes more than once a day. She says she feels she needs to go. The way she is talking about it is as though she is making a point. The light heartedness as well at times as though "such and such was an alcoholic too, and look what they achieved". It seems too easy for her to make these statements. Even if a person goes to AA, it doesn't mean they have admitted to being an alcoholic does it? Yet, she's making these statements as though it means nothing. I don't know, but something really niggles me about it.

Perhaps, I just need to try and understand the mind of an alcoholic more? I don't know. I feel like such a terrible person and I can't make any sense of my feelings around it. I have tried to avoid thinking about it. This is the first time I have actually spent any time properly thinking about it, and I am in tears as I write this. It is a thing that massively bothers me, her drinking has had quite a big impact on my mental health. So why can't I be supportive?

At least I have something to talk about at my session with G on Thursday.

A New Year.

What a year 2013 was. It was possibly one of my hardest yet.

I think I did hit a turning point in 2013 and I learnt some very important lessons.

I think the turning point came in March/April time. I nearly died. I was very ill and in medical intensive care for over a week on a ventilator that was breathing for me because I wasn't. I was critically ill. All because I took a massive OD of prescribed medication to try and end my life. I spent nearly 2 weeks in medical wards and then on to a psychiatric ward for 4 days. This was hell. But, it wasn't under section. It was informal. Although, it's hardly informal when they tell you if you keep saying you want to leave we are going to section you. But anyway. It was informal.

I came to a conclusion after all this had happened. I was quite physically ill, and even 8 months later, I am still suffering some after effects from it. But, I was in immense pain and I was in a state. I have tried a few times to end my life and a few times coming close. This was the closest. While I wished it had have worked, I knew I couldn't put myself through what I was going through physically all over again. The whole experience of being in intensive care and when waking up not being with it and not being able to breathe. Having a tube in my throat etc etc etc (even thinking about it now makes me anxious and is invoking some nasty memories and feelings). I made the decision I could never put myself through that again. I had done something I was sure would work, but it didn't. Again. I wasn't going to risk that all over again. So I made the decision, and came to the realisation that something needed to change. The way in which I was working with G wasn't working and nothing was. I needed to change my approach. I would be open to anything. Even DBT. Kind of. I still wasn't sure but I said if I was assessed as needing it then I would give in and go along with them. As it turned out, I was not assessed as it being something that could help me. But, I changed. I realised that no one else could fix me, medication probably wasn't the answer, as much as I needed it to be. It was me.

While I don't agree in a diagnosis of a PD, I do agree that there are traits. It's these traits that are causing me the most problems. It's these traits that make me deal with the underlying mood disorder in a maladaptive way. The self harm, the suicide attempts....etc etc etc. So I needed to approach those.

Another big thing for me in 2013 was realising what recovery is. For me recovery has always been a cure. I wouldn't get the ups, the suicidal lows. But no. That is not recovery. Recovery is about how you deal with these. And coming to this realisation sucked. It really hit me hard. What I had been working towards for so long was not what I was ever going to achieve. That is not recovery and I am probably always going to have the roller coaster of emotions, experiencing extreme highs and extreme lows. Coming to this realisation really hit me hard. It really knocked me back. And I started self harming on a regular basis again, both cutting and swallowing. But, I have come to terms with that now. I can't say I like it, not at all. But, I am dealing with it.

In 2013 I had lost about 2.5stone in weight. I had got fitter. They're positives.

Although 2013 had been very very hard for me, possibly one of my worst years yet for in terms of how often I was feeling low and the thoughts etc. I think I possibly needed to have that to be able to move on.

So as we start in 2014 where are we now? Or, where am I?

Yes, I feel shit. I am having regular suicidal thoughts and self harm urges. I'm not going to say everything is all rosy and nice. It's not. I have the crippling depressions and am feeling quite low at the moment and have been for a few weeks. But, there is part of me that does feel more equipped to deal with it. I know I need to go to the gym, I know I need to not drink so much alcohol, I know I need to carry on losing weight because that will give me more self confidence and feel better about myself, I know I need to focus on myself.

There is also a lot I don't know which proves a bid source of anxiety for me. I don't know about my future, I don't know what I want to do, I feel lost, I don't have a sense of feeling secure. I don't have any direction in my life, I don't know what my capabilities are and I feel that they are not much. I don't feel I can deal with any pressure that is put on me, having pressure or stress put on me, I do feel that any pressure or stress is going to make me collapse and I will end up having another breakdown.

But, I suppose, in 2013, I learnt a lot about what I can handle. And, that is a positive.

So for 2014, I am not going to make any resolutions like be more positive etc etc. I tried that in 2010-2011 and 2011 I ended up being sectioned etc etc.

But, as my team and my friends and family say. I must be in recovery now, or heading there at least. They say they have not seen me so well in so long. It's been 8 months since I was last in hospital. Which is the longest period of time I have spent out of hospital since summer 2011. So for me that is good.

2014 will see some huge changes for me. Some massive life events are happening.

I am going to walk the West Highland way  - 100miles in just a few days (for me that is a massive challenge. I am still 2.5 stone over weight and up until 6 months ago I had not done any exercise in years.

I am going to climb Ben Nevis (this will be straight after the walk).

I am going on a girls holiday of a life time to the USA.

I am turning 30.

I am going to make some kind of decision in terms of what I want to do with my life.

And that is all folks!