Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Quick Update

Things are going shit. Basically. Crisis team are as useful as a chocolate tea pot. There's not much point in them. They want to up their input. I can't see the point. I'm not in hospital. I discharged myself a couple of weeks back. I thought things were ok then. But they're obviously not.

Thoughts to end it are so intense. I can't fight them.

Thursday, 10 September 2015

Wednesday 9th September

Anxiety in over drive. Just had a quick session with G. I feel so anxious now. It has brought things to the surface. He knows I haven’t been eating. I admitted I felt really anxious about it now and didn’t feel as though I could. He practically dragged me to the dining room after the session. I picked up 2 satsumas and now they are there in front of me and I can’t eat them. I have this thing that it is something I can control. Everything else is going to shit around me and I can’t control anything. But, I can control what I eat. It’s stupid. I already feel like a failure, if I eat it will reaffirm my belief that I am a failure. It’s been a week since I had anything at all. And, then, it was only half a sandwich that they made me have at that private place. Before that, I ate as little as possible. While I was on my running away thing up north, I had some breakfast each morning. Usually one piece of bacon, an egg, black pudding and a piece of toast. That is all I had all day and I only had that because I was going walking and I didn’t want to pass out on a mountain. I don’t know how long it is since I had a meal. Or a meal I didn’t throw up after, it’s been over 2 weeks. I’ve got it in my head now that I need to control this. I can’t control anything else. I can’t eat yet. I hadn’t actually told anyone the whole idea of eating makes me really anxious. He said in my face he could tell I hadn’t been eating as I look all drawn and the longer it goes on the worse it will be. That I need to eat for my meds to work properly.

I had a urine test and it showed that there were ketones in it. This means that the body is not breaking down glucose to create energy, but fat. They are saying it is a bad thing, to me it seems like a good thing.
I talked a bit about R today. I really miss him. I am trying to convince myself that it is for the best. That I couldn’t be with someone who didn’t show or talk about their emotions as I over think things and try to read in to everything. I need someone to be straight with me. I miss him so much it hurts. I really want to cry about it, but I am on high obs and I hate crying in front of people.

I’ve got really big urges to do something. The anxiety around food, talking to G and the whole thing with R has really got to me now. I feel overwhelmed. I am on high obs, I should really make use of the staff that I have around me. I need to be good and make the best of it.

Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Tuesday 8th September

I have been moved back from the private hospital I was in to my local hospital that I usually go to. I was a bit apprehensive about coming back and I have been even lower…I didn’t think that that was possible. I have also been really anxious. They have kept me on high obs and I will be until Thursday morning. But, if I am honest, it does help as it means I am unable to do anything to myself, while I think about it all the time I am not having to fight the urges as I am not on my own at all and have no access to anything that I could do anything with.

 I was transferred back in a secure car. It was horrible. I felt like a criminal. I am still under section but the aim is to come off it within the week. I saw the doctor this morning and he was worried that hospital would make things worse for me.
I told him that at the moment I can’t see any consequences to my actions in a rational way. I told him all about how I feel and the stuff that is going round and round in my head. He said he needed to work out a plan with me in regards to a discharge date so that I knew what was happening and it wouldn’t just be sprung on me one day. So the agreement is is discharge in 2 weeks, be on high obs for 2 more nights, and looking at coming off the section towards the end of this week.

I kind of knew that as soon as I came back to my home time that I wouldn’t be here that long. I suppose in a way it is better for me being here as I will be out a lot quicker. Where as if I had stayed at that private place she wanted to keep me a few weeks and there was always the possibility of PICU again. Who knows how long I would be in then.

I suppose I have some rational thought back now. In not being able to act on my urges and need to end my life in the last 4-5days because of being on high obs, it has meant that I have been able to cope better.

I think R may be on to something about me. He messaged me the other day and asked if he could pop round with the ticket I have for London this weekend. I told him I was away and didn’t know when I would be back. He questioned me about college and asked if I didn’t need to be there for that. He seemed pretty unconvinced in the message. It was like he didn’t believe me.

Today I messaged him to see if he had had any luck in getting rid of the ticket. He said he hadn’t asked his mate yet but it didn’t look likely. He said he could always try and get a tout to buy it. I asked how he had been and he said he was ok, but then he had been really busy. He asked how I was and I avoided the question and said he could always try Stubhub for the ticket but I wouldn’t be able to do it as my signal was crap on my phone. So he asked “Where are you”? I think he knows something is up. I just said my WiFi wasn’t working and I was waiting for someone to come out to it and that my signal wasn’t good at home. He just said “I see”. Which is his way of saying that’s a load of crap. So now I am really anxious about it. If he asked me out right I don’t think I could lie. Or if he said he wanted to come round I couldn’t avoid that.

But….there is part of me that hopes he thinks he has made a mistake and wants to see me. I make up these little scenarios in my head that he says he wants to see me as an excuse to try and make things right as he wouldn’t tell me in person. I have thought this through and if he did ask to see me again then I would say unless he has changed his mind on what he thinks about us, that I don’t think it is a good idea for me to see him as I love him and breaking up has been hard on me and I have been quite upset. Then if he said he had been thinking, then I would have to swear him to secrecy and let him know where I am.

But then, I haven’t really thought about the break up that much. My thoughts are all about me. If he did want to get back together how would I react? I think I would have to tell him how I feel about him being an emotional retard and how anxious it makes me feel and he would have to be open with his feelings and take initiative sometimes in being romantic/passionate. I really struggled with him not telling me things first and I thought I was taking control all the time. He was so laid back, I did take control. I made plans for us etc etc etc. He needs to be more proactive and be more of a man.

 I think a lot of what happened was because I was at his quite a bit and I got a bit comfortable and that combined with my mood change etc has not been the best company. I have become unmotivated and didn’t really want to do much.

I suppose in that scenario where we did get back together (which probably won’t ever happen), I would need some kind of unwritten agreement that we spend more quality/romantic time together (that I am not the one to instigate it and make all the plans), that he can show and tell me how he feels about me without me being the one to say “I love you first”. I will have to tell him just how anxious it makes me that I am the one who is the one who makes the first move.

But anyway…that probably won’t ever happen. So, I am going to have to get used to being without him. I am trying to convince myself that it is for the best. Long term, I don’t think I could be with anyone who was so laid back and didn’t have the emotional side. I can’t expect him to change so I suppose, maybe it is for the best.

Maybe, after 7 months together, it is better to break now than in a year or so time. It would hurt a lot more the longer we spend together wouldn’t it. So, maybe, and I will try and convince myself that it is for the best. I love him still, and it would be easier if on paper we weren’t a near perfect match and that if he was a dick. But, he’s not a dick and we are technically suited to each other.
Feel a bit better now I have that off my chest. I have been in a bit of an anxious state since we were messaging each other. I went and put my phone on charge in a locked room so I couldn’t keep looking at it.
I don’t want him knowing I am in hospital. One because I am embarrassed about it. I don’t like people knowing, I don’t want his friends and family to know. I don’t want them to think I am so unstable that an end of a relationship makes me this ill (obviously it has contributed, but it isn’t about him, it’s other things that have been going on for a long time since I stopped taking my meds), I also don’t want him thinking that it is his fault. That he has caused this. Because he hasn’t. It’s me.

 If I ended a relationship with someone and only days later they were in a psych hospital I would feel awful and blame myself. Maybe that’s just me though.
I don’t have any ill feelings towards him at all. Yes I am upset that I am hurt. But, if he wasn’t feeling it anymore then he wasn’t feeling it. It’s upsetting and I do blame myself. I mainly blame coming off meds and being too bossy. I should have let him take more control over what we did. I will just have to make sure I learn from my mistakes.

Saturday, 5 September 2015

More Updates

I am struggling a bit, sitting here being stared at by a woman who is my shadow until the doctor says otherwise.

I think I last blogged in December time. That's quite a lot of time really. I noticed logging on that there aren't many people whom I was chatty with before still blogging. I guess other people moved on too.

There was one girl...I don't know her name she referred to herself as A. She lived in Israel I think, but was born in the UK I think. I can't seem to find her blog. Does anyone know who I am on about, I would like to know how she is doing.

Anyhoo, I have just finished my first year at college on my Photography course. And.... I got the double grade distinction*. I am quite proud of myself. I actually did ok at something. Well, better than ok....I came top of the class. I have never done that before, I got distinctions in every module...even the shit ones. I think a lot of it though is being able to waffle about shit, and rip my own work to pieces and in evaluating it I get the good marks. Being concise was never a strong point of mine. Although, I am not sure the tutors like it that much when I hand in a book twice the size of everyone Else's as it takes them so long to mark.

Obviously, going back is being questioned now. I haven't told college or anyone at college any of my problems. I am due back a week on Thursday. And being as though I am sitting here 170miles away with a shadow, I am not hopeful that I will be well enough to go back next week. If it were a normal module we were doing straight away I could work from home/hospital and do all the research etc and even take shots. But the first module is dark room work. Obviously I don't have one of those. I am wondering if I can miss the first term back and I'll get a grade based on what I am expected to get. If it gets to next week and I am still in...I am going to have to contact my course leader and ask/explain. I really don't want to do that. Not again. Flashbacks to 2011 there and wanting to finish my MA Social Work. So, that is worrying me a little.

Things with my parents are still the same. They both drink, then my mother gets violent and argumentative. My eldest brother has moved in for the last few months while he saves for a deposit on a new house. So he has witnessed it to, and it's getting him down. It's all pretty fucked up really.

I hadn't cut since about a year ago until today. I hadn't swallowed anything in about a year until yesterday. I hadn't tied up in about a year until yesterday. I hadn't OD'd in about a year until Thursday. However, I have been making myself sick...a lot. If I am alone it would be pretty much every day. I only didn't do it when I had R staying or I was at his. But as soon as I was alone...it would be pretty much every meal. Or having binges and getting rid of it. I don't really know what it is. I am not sure if it's self harm, or something else. I like to feel I have some control over something. So, it was what I was doing. At the moment I am restricting. I haven't eaten anything since Monday morning, it's now Saturday evening. I enjoy having the control over it. It is the only thing I feel I have some control over. When I ran away up north I only had a small breakfast each morning just so I could climb the hills in the day. It's been about 2 weeks since I had a normal meal and not thrown up after or skipped. I don't get that either. I am happy that I am losing weight. I like to feel thinner, but it's the control thing. No one has addressed it with me so I am not saying anything.

I put quite a bit of weight on since January when I met R. I kind of settled in to going round to his instead of the gym and cosying up on the sofa with a bottle of wine (my weight gain is another reason why I think he ended it, that he didn't find me attractive anymore etc etc). I put on about a 21lb since I met him. That's from drinking wine 3-4 nights a week. I can't do that. He wasn't the healthiest eater either...yet he was skinny. I also gave up smoking for a while. I used champix, and it really worked. The only side effect I had was a feeling sick for some time after the dose. But, if I made sure I ate a good breakfast I didn't really get that. I managed to stop for around 6 weeks. But...I started again because R smoked and it was too easy to nip out for at first a quick drag of his, then nicking one his then buying my own rolling stuff,

If, I get my head sorted, it will be something I go back to. I will use the Champix again... it is a wonder drug. I didn't think it would be given to me as of the pysch history.But, I think because I am more aware of my moods they were happy for me to give it ago. I hate being reliant on smoking. It stinks and with smoking rollies my fingers have yellowed. It's disgusting. I really do want to be a non smoker.

I am trying to think of what else I have to say that has happened in the last few months that I haven't covered. I am trying to waste time waffling on so I don't have to think my own thoughts too much.

I have time on my hands over the next few days so I will probably be posting random crap.

So Here I Am Again

I took a break from blogging for a while as I wanted to try and leave that part of my life behind me...but...quite typically it caught up with me.

I met someone in January and fell completely madly deeply in love with him. He said he felt the same way. I felt good for the first time in so long. I felt as though I was a normal person functioning in society. I felt so normal that, I thought I could stop taking my meds. He knew I was on meds, and what they were for, that I had been in hospital etc etc. But, I hated taking my meds in front of him or carrying them around. He had seen them and laughed at me for being a walking pharmacy... an upper, a downer, a stop you pooh, make you pooh, stop the pain etc etc. He would joke, but it made me fel uncomfortable. This was a guy who wouldn't take a pain killer if his leg was hanging off. I wanted to be more normal. All through this illness since 2006, I have been told that medication doesn't do anything. Dr T was dead against it and didn't like prescribing it. So, I thought it would be a good idea to stop. I stopped everything except 25mg of Quetiapine at night so that I wouldn't be awake all night. I thought I was doing ok. I didn't tell anyone at all I had stopped. And, so I thought I was ok. But I wasn't. I was different...not sad down, but loss of motivation, stopped going to the gym, needed a lot of sleep and felt as though I was weighed down with something. Come July, I was a bit of a mess really. I was so anxious and constantly asking my friends for approval and advice about what to do with R. Were things in my head etc etc etc.

I didn't bring it up with him as I didn't want to be that neurotic needy girlfriend. But, I think I was different.

Last week I thought he was being quite odd. He was not one to talk about his feelings and he would brush it off if he was quiet or something. But not this time when I brought it up. The result was basically him saying he wasn't sure what he wanted, and he thought a break would be a good idea. Me being me, ran off to the Lake District for some fresh air, hiking, scenery, photography and wide open spaces. I missed him like crazy. I spilled my heart to him in an email telling him how I felt and I got an email back saying he had thought about it and he thought we should end it. I told him fair enough, but he has at least got to see me in person so we can talk about it face to face as after that long together I deserved more than an email. So we did. And it ended. That's that.

Yes, I am upset. It was kind of the straw that broke the camels back. I was managing to hold it together just enough the last couple of months as I really didn't want him to see that part of me.

It's weird...I love him so much, but what I am more upset is not losing him...it's what it all means to me. That I am 31, living in a rented small flat. My friends all have their own places or kids and are settled. I thought I was getting that in this relationship but, it appeared not. He said he had lost the spark and wasn't sure if he loved me now, and wasn't sure it was love at the start. So me being me...internalises it all. Me being me sees failure, standards, etc etc etc. It's more about that than losing him.

I do get upset about what could have been...the loss of the future. But, what has driven this breakdown more so is that I have yet again failed. That yet again this illness has ruined something for me. That I am faulty etc etc etc. So with the low mood over the last few weeks, the anxiety...WHAM suicidal thoughts and planning comes in again.

I feel so pathetic, that the break down of my relationship is what has landed me on a section. I feel like a silly teenager. I know deep down that it is more than the break up. It is more internalised about that. I am not crying "oh nooooo, he dumped me I best hurt myself to show the world how sad I am by this". It's the whole failure thing. It's the whole taking stock of my life and seeing where I am and not liking it. It is looking to the future and seeing the work I put in to being "normal", to having that conversation with him about the scars and where they came from, the being honest with another person, having to do all that over again. It is the worry that exactly the same thing will happen. The worry that I am 31, am still at college, living in a rented flat, still being slightly reliant on Mummy and Dadddy etc etc etc.

There is the hurt of losing him, but, maybe wrongly, I am telling myself that if the above is what is bothering me more, perhaps we weren't that suited. I don't know. I do love him, care about him. He is the second person I ever loved. I really don't know what's going on in my head,

While I was away last weekend, I had time to think, perhaps it wasn't the best thing to do (running away), and it was there I decided that I no longer wanted to live. Not if I had all of that ahead of me. That I was destined for a life of misery because of my stupid illness. Because of how it rules my life. The same things as usual really.

So, I reached out. I contacted crisis team. I told them how I was feeling...their response was distract yourself. So I told them to fuck off and I would manage on my own. A few hours later I have my GP, a AMHP and  a Sec 12 doc at my door. I told them the same thing. I can manage on my own. I didn't need their input and I would not be working with crisis as I felt it was a waste of time, Where did that land me...170miles south of my home city in a private hospital (there were no beds any closer), and now... on high obs.

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with G, he said something a long the lines of as long as I will make sure you don't end up in hospital again as it is not beneficial to you. With this in my head I basically told the people in the MHA assessment to fuck off too. G was on leave last week so had no input. So, a section 2 for me.

They didn't have a bed straight away and I was on my own over night. The AMHP left at about 10pm, and he was back the next morning at 8.30am. I had had a phone call at around 5am from crisis telling me they had found a bed but transport wouldn't be available until later in the day. 5am! 5AM!!!! WTF. I was actually already awake, but, I don't see why they needed to call me then. The AMHP knocks on my door and tells me they've got a bed they are just working on getting an ambulance. Seriously an ambulance, to come get me.

Even though I knew I was going in to hospital, I prepared a stash of meds and things to harm my self with. Half way down here I took all the meds I had. Because I didn't have a bag with me the ambulance people didn't realise I had taken an OD and anti psychotics, sleeping pills and tricylic antidepressants. They thought I was just drowsy cos I hadn't slept the night before. I can't remember getting here at all. I think the staff just put me in bed as soon as I got here. The next morning I think they cottoned on that something wasn't right. I don't remember at all really, just blurry visions of not being able to walk and bumping in to things. It was when I saw the doc she said my speech was really slurred and something wasn't right, She asked me if I had taken anything, at first denied it but then admitted. I refused to go to hospital at first, but, being as though I am under a section I had no choice they said either I go in a taxi or the police and ambulance will come. Hospital just did bloods and said I was ok...I think. Well, I didn't need treatment and they let me go. By the time I got back my room had been stripped, they had found all my ligs and extra pills.

So now, I am on to my third night here and am now on 1.1 obs as of how I have been. Honestly I feel shit. I am finding it hard to rationalise anything. I feel like I did way back in 2011 when the hospital stuff all kicked off. I can't listen to anyone. And, I don't know how long I will be here for.

I am supposed to be seeing G on Monday...that's not going to happen unless they transfer me tomorrow back home. But, I have the staff here talking to me about therapy groups and being assessed for therapy etc etc. I don't want to do that. I know where I am with G. I know him and I can be open with him. I don't want to start all over again. I don't want to have to talk to people about my childhood etc etc etc etc. I don't want to go over everything and make it fresh. But, I am worried, they will want me to "engage" and if I don't it lessen my chances of getting anywhere.

The unit is a lot nicer than NHS...obviously, it's private and I think costs around £1000 a week. My parents looked in to sending me private back in 2011. And, knowing how much it is costing the NHS...how much I am costing the NHS makes me want to die even more because I am a waste of money. I have been in and out of hospital for 4 years now. 4 fucking years. OK, granted it's been a year since I was last in...but being quite a prominent patient in services. It's such a waste.

I don't feel as though I can talk to anyone here. I don't know anyone. They don't know me. They don't know my history. I don't want to go over everything again and again. In my home town, I have people that I know. I have G for therapy and if I am on the ward I know at least one member of staff per shift. It makes things so much easier...they can also tell when I am heading down a slippery slope of SH etc etc.

I am not sure if I need to be in hospital or if it's working. Would I be at the bottom of the river by now being left on my own. Would I have seriously OD be in ICU again. Am I saying I could cope so I could be left to my own devices? I don't know. I don't know what is best for me at the moment.

It's tough. I don't really know what to do.

Wednesday, 2 September 2015

Quick round up.

January...met a guy.
February...fell in love
March...went to India
April told him I loved him and he loved me.
April...stopped taking meds
May...start to feel down
June...get anxiety attacks
July...anxiety high. Feel very low. Thoughts of self harm etc etc
August...he ends relationship. Not sure if it was love after all.
September... Placed on section 2 and waiting for a bed.

Here's a lesson for you...don't stop taking your meds and don't tell anyone. It could land you on a section 2!