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Posts Tagged ‘anger’

>I have grown increasingly frustrated regarding diagnosis the last couple of weeks. I feel quite sure that if I didn’t have a BPD diagnosis, I would have received more support than I have done. I am totally convinced. What my GP said to my mum about having BPD, not depression, really clinched it for me. She had said nothing like that when she spoke to me on Wednesday and thought the crisis team should be seeing me, so either the crisis team or the CMHT manager must have told her that. And the only reason they would have told her that would be as justification for why I wasn’t getting more help. The frustrating thing is, I don’t even see it as relevant. I don’t actually think diagnosis should ever be relevant – I think symptoms should be treated/given support for, rather than the diagnosis. But I am particularly pissed off because actually I don’t even feel like BPD is relevant at the moment even in terms of treating diagnoses. I am not disputing that I meet the diagnostic criteria for BPD. However, if I look at the diagnostic criteria for Depression I literally meet every single criteria at the moment. Therefore surely that is the current problem rather than BPD, and should be treated accordingly. The diagnostic criteria for BPD relating to mood is ‘Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).’ That is not me. My mood is not reactive, and it has lasted weeks, not hours or days. The only time that applies is when I have episodes when I am particularly irritable or hyper for a few hours. It never applies to my depressed or suicidal periods, and I would not consider my mood unstable – it is consistantly very low, and has been for weeks. It makes me so angry that there is still so much prejudice surrounding BPD, which there absolutely is. I don’t self harm or take small overdoses and then turn up at A&E – I have never, ever done that. I don’t make threats regarding suicide – I only talk about feeling suicidal if I am feeling genuinely suicidal and unable to keep myself safe. And the times I have attempted suicide have not been impulsive – it has been at times like this when I have been feeling desperate and reach a point where I can no longer cope – they have been planned. But I feel like I am being treated as though I am the ‘stereotypical’ borderline who takes overdoses for attention and that giving me support would be encouraging attention seeking etc. I know I meet the BPD criteria. But I also meet the criteria for Depression, and more closely in my opinion, and that is what is making me feel like this at the moment. And I honestly feel that if Depression was my only diagnosis, I would be receiving different treatment at the moment. I am sure that would be denied by the crisis team or any other professionals, but I have seen from the experiences of friends the difference in the support given to people with a BPD diagnosis, and the support given to people with mood disorder diagnoses, even if presenting with the same symptoms, and except in a few exceptional cases, those with mood disorders virtually always seem to get given more support in crisis. I know the medications I have tried have seemed to have little effect, but I am sure that if Depression was my only diagnosis then medicaations would continue to be tried until something helped. I would not just be left, when feeling suicidal, and expected to get on with things. The crisis team would have arranged the appointment with the psychiatrist that they talked about, and they would probably have continued to visit, and although they aren’t always helpful, when I am feeling like this I do find it helpful to know that I have some form of support, and knowing there will be daily visits etc does make a difference. It doesn’t change how I feel, but I know from past experience that it makes it easier to take things one day at a time, which is something I am struggling with at the moment, and various other things. As I said, I am sure it would be denied, but I am convinced that had my diagnosis been different, I would have received different treatment these last few weeks, and that makes me angry.

I spoke to L earlier. I can’t remember what we talked about. It was only a few hours ago, but my brain just isn’t working. I remember that she was supportive though, and I didn’t feel like she didn’t care about me. I trust her a bit more than I did. It all feels rather irrelevant though. Nobody can change how I feel, and I still have the same level of help. Or lack of.

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>Just stop

>It is 5:15am and I am not remotely sleepy, and am feeling very tense, despite taking 10mg Diazepam. The suicidal thoughts are really in full swing, and although I am not intending to act on them tonight, it doesn’t make them any weaker or easier to cope with. I think I might have to have another Diazepam, as when I feel like this my thoughts just go into overdrive and I have absolutely no chance of sleeping.

I am feeling so alone. I know I have support online, and I am truly grateful for that, but in real life I have absolutely nothing, and it is hard. Actually it is much worse than hard. I desperately feel like I need some support, but there is nowhere to turn. My GP works Wednesdays, but there is no point contacting her, as I have grasped exactly what she thinks from my mum speaking to her last week, and she has certainly been turned against me. I could phone and speak to whoever is on duty at the CMHT, but a) I don’t trust that it won’t be a fuckwit on duty, as there are several of them, b) they will all be against me too, and c) they will either suggest going for a walk, having a bath, or listening to music, and none of those are remotely helpful suggestions at the moment. I always find walking very anxiety provoking – I am always paranoid that someone is following me, and it really does scare me. I find baths the opposite of relaxing. I hate just lying there with my thoughts. I don’t see how that is supposed to be relaxing or helpful. And I usually love music, but as I have explained on here before, I find it really difficult to listen to at the moment unless there is a particular song I need to hear – otherwise it just sounds like irritating noise that is drilling through my head, even if it is a CD I usually love. The TV is similar – I get a headache within about 5 minutes of turning it on as it just overwhelms me. And I can’t concentrate to read. So essentially, anything they might suggest I do is useless, and therefore I am fucked.

I miss L. I know that sounds weird, given that she has been turned against me, and hasn’t done anything to help me lately, but I do. I guess that is why attachment issues are such a bitch. Even when you know someone isn’t helping, you can’t get over them. I was thinking about it, and actually I don’t think things have ever been quite the same with her since that time in November when I felt very let down by her. Things did get back on track and feel ok after that, but I suppose I never had quite the same level of trust in her following that, and now I feel like she doesn’t care about me at all and doesn’t care what happens to me, as she just left me with an appointment for a fortnight’s time when she knew how awful I was feeling. And yet I still miss her. That is wrong, and it pisses me off. I am angry with myself for wanting to talk to her. I don’t want to miss her. I want to be angry with her. But every time I am feeling desperate I just get this overwhelming desire to talk to her. And yet last Thursday and Friday when she was in work, and I could have rung her, I didn’t because I was just too upset. I feel really confused about the whole thing. I suppose it is a bit like the situation with my mum. I still feel like she has been turned against me where my mental health is concerned, but I still love her despite that. I feel let down by her, and I feel like she either doesn’t believe me, or doesn’t care about me any more, in much the same way I feel about L, but she is still my mum, and I still love her. I just have to accept that I can’t rely on her for support. And I suppose it would be the same with L, except our whole relationship is based on support, as that is why she is there, which makes it much more awkward, But of the CMHT she is still the only person I want to talk to. I feel lost and alone and desperate, and like the people I have relied on and trusted the most are no longer there for me. I really feel like I can’t cope.

I have rehearsal again tonight. It is going to be a long one, as I have to get there an hour early to work on my solos with the musical director, and then I have the normal rehearsal, so I will be there from 6:30 until at least 10, possibly 10:30. It’s all too much. I want to scream and shout and cry but I don’t think that would be appreciated by my parents or my neighbours given that it is 5:30am. I just can’t cope. I want out. I want to make everything stop. Just stop. Why isn’t it getting any easier? Surely it should be getting easier. And it isn’t. It just gets harder and harder. I don’t believe that these thoughts and feelings are going to go away without me acting on them. It is too intense. And it feels like the right thing to do. I don’t want to wait for them to pass. I just want to make it all stop.

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>Times Like This

>Today has been difficult again. My weight was significantly higher than yesterday, which I knew it would be, but it still upset me a lot. When I am already struggling a lot gaining weight can really tip me over the edge. I have been very irritable again today. I have tried to stay as calm as possible, but a tiny comment can just make me snap and scream, and then 20 seconds later I will be ok again. I think it only happened once today – I told my dad I wanted to kill him, but then I calmed down again soon after. My temper does seem quite out of control at the moment though. Things have been ok with my mum. It was actually fine last night – things were normal when we got home but I was still feeling guilty, which was when I wrote last night. The night time was hard. I felt really alone. I ended up going downstairs at 4am and woke the dog up because I wanted a cuddle. He was very obliging, and didn’t object to being woken up and cuddled in the middle of the night. Dogs are good like that. And then I came back upstairs but I was feeling really quite desperate. In the end I decided I would go and sleep in my mum’s room at about 5am, so I went in there. I said to her that I was sorry for being horrible and she said that she was sorry too. I managed to fall asleep in there, and then woke up at about 9am due to bloody hammering from next door, and so then went back to my bed as it is a bit further away, and went back to sleep again.

The day has felt really long. I am finding it impossible to concentrate on anything or distract myself from my thoughts. Unless there is something I particularly want to watch, which there isn’t usually, then I can’t have the TV on when I feel like this – it just irritates me. Music is the same – I love music but I can’t cope with the noise. Thinking even a day or two into the future sends me into a complete whirl, and trying to think further than that causes full blown panic attacks. The obvious solution is just to not let myself think ahead, but sometimes I can’t help it. The more I think about the future, the more I want to die now. I hate that it is the weekend. I hate weekends. I find them really difficult. I think because I am not by myself as much, and I find that draining. We are going to see The King’s Speech tomorrow. I have wanted to see it, but I know I won’t be able to concentrate properly. I keep finding myself just sitting and staring into space. I keep wondering if I will get through this or not. I don’t actually want to.

I might go and see my dog for a cuddle again. I don’t think he will mind being woken up.

‘A friendly face, the kind of face
That melts you with a grin.
The kind of eyes that welcome you
The minute you walk in.
A tender glance you simply can’t refuse
At times like this a girl could use
A dog.

He listens when you tell him things,
There’s nothing you can’t say
And unlike certain people you can teach him how to stay
And if the world is giving you the blues
He cheers you up by chewing up the news.
It’s things like that that make you choose
A dog.

Other people need romance, dancing, playing around.
Other people need constant fun, well I’m not one.
I have my feet on the ground.

Give me a quiet night, a stack of books
A tuna fish on rye.
A simple walk together
Underneath the starry sky.
And suddenly the night is something rare
And all because there’s someone special there.
Who’s gazing at the views.
His head upon your shoes.
At times like this, I sure could use
A dog’

– Times Like This, Lucky Stiff

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>Today has been difficult. Last night was difficult too actually. I have been feeling more and more strongly that I don’t want to be here. I feel completely alone – I know I have the support of people on here, but that is different to real life support, and actually what I feel like I need at the moment is professional support, and that is what I am not getting. Last night I was actually feeling really tempted to discharge myself from mental health services – sometimes it feels like an appointment for an hour once a fortnight is worse than nothing at all, because when it is helpful I still leave feeling hopeless, because I know it is 2 weeks before I will get that again, and then there isn’t time to talk about everything I feel I need to talk about – I found that even with weekly appointments, so fortnightly are even more difficult, and then even when I am really at crisis point I can’t get any more support, so it all seems kind of pointless. Fortnightly sessions feel a bit like ‘so here’s what you could have won!’ L has always been very supportive of me, and I know I have been lucky to have her, but I almost feel like she has given up on me or stopped caring or something. Either that or she thinks I am making up these feelings. I am not sure which is worse. But either way I don’t feel supported at the moment. So I did consider contacting her and asking to be discharged, but I decided against it. She would probably have suggested we discuss it when I am next due to see her, in a week and a half, and by that time goodness knows how I feel or what position I will be in. I could be dead, or I could have attempted suicide but failed, or I could be feeling differently about things. So I suppose essentially it seemed pointless to ask for discharge now, when I am not even due to see her for a week and a half. I am just really struggling with the lack of support when I am feeling so bad. I suppose I just feel abandoned, and like nobody actually gives a shit whether I kill myself or not, which in a way is a good thing, as it makes me feel less guilty.

This evening was really difficult. A friend of my dad had asked him to go to a quiz a couple of days ago, but they only needed one for their team, so my mum and I couldn’t go. My mum was going out with a friend, and asked if I wanted to go with them, but I didn’t. Anyway, my dad phoned me at 5:45 and said he had spoken to his friend and there was room for me at the quiz after all, as someone couldn’t make it, and that we would need to leave at 6:45. I wasn’t actually sure if I wanted to go by that point, as I was anticipating a night here on my own, but I also knew that with how I was feeling that probably wasn’t the most sensible option, so I agreed to go. The trouble is, it wasn’t giving me nearly long enough to get ready – it was about 6 when I started to get ready, and I had a quick shower but didn’t have time to wash my hair, so just straightened it instead. That didn’t take too long. Getting dressed is another matter however. I find it incredibly hard to know what to wear if I am going anywhere other than an appointment or rehearsal, in which case I either don’t give a shit what I look like, or wear dance type clothes. When I am going anywhere else getting dressed is an incredibly stressful and time consuming process. I put on a skirt, top, and cardigan, then decided the tights were no good, then decided it wasn’t the tights that were the problem – it was my huge legs. So off came the skirt and cardigan, and on went skinny jeans and boots and a long cardigan. I decided my legs still looked hideous, and was getting really quite upset and crying by this point. Told my mum I wanted to stay home and that I couldn’t get ready. All along my mum had been trying to be helpful, but was actually making matters worse, by saying that I was being ridiculous and my legs looked fine, and that the jeans looked fine, and nobody else would look at me and think my legs looked awful, and that I was making my dad late (which I was), and I ended up yelling at her that I felt hideous and I didn’t give a shit what other people would think – I couldn’t go out feeling hideous. Was sobbing uncontrollably by this point. Took off the jeans and cardigan and tried on a different skirt, but still didn’t feel comfortable, and didn’t have a cardigan that would go with it so would have been cold. She kept on and on, and it felt like absolutely everything I said she was just dismissing and invalidating, which is an ongoing theme, and I totally snapped in the end and screamed that she was being really fucking invalidating, to which she replied that she didn’t even know what that meant in this context, and so I said that she was just dismissing and ignoring all of my feelings, and she said that was because they were stupid, and I said (when I say I said, I mean I screamed) that they were real to me, and that she was constantly invalidating my thoughts and feelings, and that actually that can be a major contributory factor to BPD. I wished immediately that I hadn’t said that, because I never want to make my parents feel bad, or like they are to blame for my problems – partly because I don’t think it is fair to blame someone else, and partly because I don’t want them to feel guilty, even when I do think they have contributed to how I am now. So I felt like a complete bitch, and was in a complete state, crying hysterically and hyperventilating. I said (cried) that I couldn’t go out and I needed to stay home, and had put my comfy jeans on by that point, not with the intention of going anywhere. My mum said I looked nice in my comfy jeans that I had on and that I should go like that. I just couldn’t stop crying. My dad came upstairs then and tried to calm me down a bit – he asked what the matter was and I said (cried) that I felt hideous in everything and I had made him late and I couldn’t go anywhere, and that it was my mum’s fault (unfair I know). He said we weren’t too late, and that I looked fine how I was, and I didn’t need to dress up or anything and that I needed to just calm down. I think my mum was also quite worked up by this time as she said what I needed was a slap, and at that point I completely lost my temper and screamed that I was going to kill her and my dad had to hold me back from going into her room after her. I don’t think that I ever would be really physically violent – I have been known to hit my dad when I have got really angry and worked up, but it is generally when he has intentionally wound me up, which he has a tendency to do it, but I don’t get any more violent than that – I have grabbed a knife and said I am going to stab him in the past, but I am certain I would never do anything like that – my anger just gets out of control occasionally and I say things that I don’t mean, like I did tonight. I then said that she was a fucking bitch and cried some more. After a minute my temper disappeared and I was just back to being upset. My dad said he really wanted me to go with him and I calmed down a bit, although I was still sobbing, and said goodbye to my mum, and we left. I then sat in the car crying and was talking to myself a bit, but my dad managed to get me to stop. I decided I needed a Diazepam a minute or two after we had left, and looked in my bag, to find that I had grabbed my Zopiclone instead of my Diazepam (and very nearly taken one – they are the same size tablets, and apart from the writing, the blister packs look identical) and so I then had a panic attack and said I had to get out of the car and I would walk home because I needed my Diazepam. A moment more of rooting in my bag produced some Diazepam though, and I took one, and after about 10 minutes had managed to calm down enough that I was just sobbing quietly, and a little while later I started to feel a bit better, and was relatively calm by the time we arrived.

The actual quiz was fine. I only knew my dad’s friend on our table, as did he, but the other people all seemed nice. I answered a reasonable number of questions, although not nearly as many as my dad – he is very good at quizzes. Food was an issue. There was a Ploughman’s included in the ticket price, so there were baguettes and cheeses on each table, and then the people on our table had brought lots and lots of crisps and nuts and things with them, and when there are things like that out I just can’t stop eating, so I ate all evening, and was feeling worse and worse about myself. Then finally there was this chocolate cake thing that someone had brought, and I had a piece of that, and it was incredibly rich (and something has to be really rich for me to say that as I have a very sweet tooth!) and I just couldn’t cope, and I ended up going to the toilets and purging. That is the first time I have purged for ages – it has been months since I last did it, but quizzes are a real trigger for me where that is concerned – there are always lots of nibbles around, and I have no self control where things like that are concerned and so just keep eating, and then feel terrible and go and purge as much as I can. It was also at a quiz that I first ever purged, so I guess they are one of the least safe places for me in that respect. I hate myself for the amount I ate, despite purging. And even though it is now 3:30am, and so it was hours ago, I still feel sick from it. I am feeling really shit about that – my weight had been slightly down this morning, and it made it that tiny bit easier to get through the day, and now it is going to be way up and I just can’t cope with something else going wrong. So it was a really bloody hard night. Although out of 15 teams we did win the quiz, and so my dad and I came home with a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.

I am feeling really guilty about the things that I said to, and about, my mum. I feel like a terrible person. When I lose my temper I just seem to lose all control, and when I am very upset and then she says things that upset me more I just snap. My dad does it too, but kind of intentionally – he does wind me up on purpose sometimes. Strangely I don’t think he means to upset me – it is like he doesn’t realise that what he is doing or saying is really upsetting me or making me angry, despite the fact it happens on a semi-regular basis. I think he just genuinely doesn’t realise how his words affect people. I suppose it is just a complete lack of tact, and not thinking before he speaks, and an almost childlike sense of him thinking something is fun, even when the other person quite clearly isn’t enjoying it. And so I do get really furious with him. My mum is different. She means well, and she tries to help, but I really do find her very invalidating a lot of the time, and when I am already upset I just can’t cope with it. My mum and I bicker a lot, but it is very rare for me to lose my temper with her to the extent that I did tonight. In fact I am not sure that I ever have – I have always had the self control before not to point out that there may be a link between her behaviours and some of my problems, and I lost that tonight, and feel really guilty for doing so, as I know it will have upset her, and that is the last thing I want to do when she does so much for me, and tries so hard to support me. I think I am just feeling so awful at the moment that it really isn’t going to take much at all to flip me over the edge in the way that I did tonight. And the worse I feel the more I hate myself, and the more self critical I am, and the more irritable I am, and therefore the more frustrating I am to my parents, so it does tend to be that the lower my mood, the more we argue, which then makes me feel worse and more suicidal, and acts as proof to me that they would be better off without me. I am really not in a good place at the moment, and I don’t know what to do. Suicide looks more and more appealing every day.

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>Is hibernation an option?

>I am having one of those days where I just want to curl up into a ball and disappear. I feel like shit and I don’t want to have to see anyone or go anywhere ever again. I am supposed to go to a ballet class tonight, which is more or less the last thing I feel like doing. Actually anything thing involves leaving my bedroom and/or seeing people is. I could skip the class, but my teacher is already pissed off with me, because the show I am doing has meant that I can only do one ballet class a week usually instead of two, and she is not at all happy about that. This week is the only week in the foreseeable future (I don’t want to foresee a fucking future) where I can make both classes, and that is because at the rehearsal tonight they are rehearsing a chorus number that I am not in. So I told her on Monday that I could make the class tonight, and got a lecture on why did I audition for a show that would mean I couldn’t do both classes every week. But since I am already unpopular for that, I don’t feel able to not go tonight when I have already said I would be able to go because I don’t have a rehearsal. But I really don’t want to go at all. And then the director of the show rung and said she wants to rehearse for three hours on Sunday, probably somewhere that is a 36 mile drive from where I live. Fantastic. I feel really fucking overwhelmed at the moment. I do not want to leave the house. I don’t want to go to ballet tonight. I don’t want to go to rehearsal on Sunday. I don’t want anything. I just don’t want to exist.

I am also really bloody pissed off with Sony. It has been established that it is a hardware problem, and therefore needs repairing. My warranty only covers collect and repair, which means being without my new laptop for 5 – 10 working days, so 1 – 2 weeks. I think that is completely unacceptable and want them to send out a technician – I don’t give a flying fuck what my warranty is – their product had a serious fault within 2 days of me receiving it and that is not acceptable. It is not difficult to replace a touchpad – it would take them about 15 minutes I should think. So I am fighting that one, but having trouble getting hold of anyone who actually has any bloody authority. I have been told someone will call me back, but I am not holding my breath.

I feel so shit. I am having one of those days where I feel like smiling would hurt – it is too painful. I don’t even feel capable of putting up my usual facade. I just want to curl up and die. Or hibernate. I don’t care as long as it stops me feeling like this. Instead I have to pretend everything is ok and go off to a ballet class.

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>Same old

>I am absolutely furious because my brand new laptop that only arrived on Wednesday had a problem tonight, which means I am back on my old laptop. I was just chatting on Facebook etc, and the mouse started going funny – kept sending the cursor back to the beginning of where I was typing and it wouldn’t move. Assumed it was Facebook or Internet Explorer acting up, so I tried to close the window, but couldn’t click. Realised I couldn’t click with the left mouse button, or using the touchpad, but the cursor and right button were still working normally. Rebooted the laptop and assumed it would all be ok. It wasn’t. Got angry. Rebooted again. Still no good. Found my info stuff that came with the laptop and tried calling them. Their stupid bloody phone line is only open Monday to Friday, 8am – 6pm. Since this was a Friday at about 10pm that meant there was 3 days before I could call them. Went online to see if I could get online help – I assumed things like that were 24/7, as I used to have a Dell laptop and they seemed to have online support constantly. That is available the same as the phone. I don’t have a mouse I can plug into the USB port, so I can’t use my new laptop now. I am concerned it is a hardware problem, as I googled it and somewhere it said to reboot and press F10 to get the start up diagnostics thing up, and if the mouse worked there then it wasn’t a hardware problem. It didn’t work. From when I have learnt from Google I think it is likely to be a hardware problem and need replacing, which is a bloody pain in the arse – I waited 3 weeks after ordering for it to arrive, and now it looks like I am going to have to send it back after 3 days, and goodness knows how long it will take to get back. I haven’t downloaded anything, so it can’t be a virus. Pissed off.

I am feeling really shit today. Worse than I have other days this last week. Not because of the laptop, although that has pissed me off. The suicidal thoughts are really strong and I just desperately want to make everything stop. It has been a really difficult evening and everything just feels like more than I can cope with. I saw Dr O earlier. I didn’t tell her how I was feeling. She doesn’t actually ask. I glanced at the screen and saw my notes from the last few times I saw her – she seems to judge how well I am doing on a) whether I smile, b) how much eye contact I make, and c) how ‘bright’ I seem, things I have noticed other times I have looked at the screen in my appointments with her. So now if I can’t be bothered to tell her how I am feeling for some reason, I just try and make sure I look at her lots and smile at appropriate times. Today I didn’t want to tell her because I wanted some Zopiclone, and if I had gone in and said that I had been having strong suicidal thoughts and that I was feeling really awful, then she a) wouldn’t have given it to me, and b) would have told me I had been feeling good for a long time now and so why am I feeling bad now (she always thinks I am feeling good unless I explicitly say I am feeling suicidal), and c) suggested I learn to cross stitch or something of that nature. Since I have no intention of learning to cross stitch and didn’t want to tell her that actually I have been feeling shit fairly consistently and that I just don’t bother telling her, for her to then say that I have seemed like I am doing really well and she definitely thinks I have been better than I was blah blah blah, because it is just frustrating and serves no purpose, I thought the smiling and eye contact approach was most appropriate. So I told her I had been sleeping badly, and she asked if it was because I was coughing and I said no (that wasn’t a totally random question – last time I saw her I had a chest infection), and asked for some Zopiclone. She gave them to me on the proviso that I know they are just short term etc etc, all the usual stuff. So I have 28 Zopiclone now. I am not quite sure why I wanted them really. They don’t help me sleep, or at least 1 (7.5mg) doesn’t. In fact, it tends to make me quite hyper. 3 or 4 do, but it isn’t really advisable to take them 3 or 4 at a time. I think it is partly so that when I am having a bad day and just really need to knock myself out I can take a few and know that I will get some sleep. And partly because I like having them. I like having pills around. It makes me feel safe and like I have an option if things get too much. Obviously not just Zopiclone, but generally. I told her I am still taking 1 – 2 Diazepam a day, which always pleases her, and because I had so many boxes at the beginning I don’t need a refill every month, so it looks like I take less than I do. Although I actually do only take 1 most days. But some days I have more. I technically didn’t really need to get any today as I found a box of 56 I hadn’t opened from the time before last that I saw her, but I thought I may as well, as I like to have spares. It was a fairly uneventful appointment really. She said she would refer me to the physio because I have been having problems with my upper hamstrings for a few months now.

I wish there was an easy way out of all of this, that wouldn’t involve hurting people.

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>Blog at risk

>Today has been a complete bloody fuck up of a day. My mum had a hospital appointment at 11 that I had said I would go to with her, as sometimes she misses what is said and forgets things, so it is easier if I go with her so that we know what is going on! Unfortunately it meant leaving the house at 10, and so I had only had about 4 hours sleep. My plan was to then go into town and do some Christmas shopping – I have done as much of it as I can online, but there are some things I need to actually go to the shops for, and so I thought it made sense to go when I was already there, but it didn’t happen. I woke up exhausted and feeling like I couldn’t be bothered. I then thought that maybe I would, but it was tipping it down with rain, which was offputting. But in the end we didn’t finish at the hospital until 2pm, and I decided that was too late to get the bus into town and start shopping, so I came home and need to find some other time to go.

Tonight I had a disaster. Last night I had tried to print my shopping list for today (our printer is meant to print remotely) and told it to print but it didn’t work so in the end I cancelled it. All fine. Then this evening, it decides to fucking print, but not what I told it to print last night, which would have been bad enough in that parents would have seen what I was getting them for Christmas. No. It printed my Blog Dashboard. My dad came in with some paper and said this has printed – I assume it is yours. He clearly knew what it was. My parents know that I have a blog, and they know that it is anonymous. He had a blog on Blogger himself for a while, so he would have immediately seen my blog name at the top. Therefore he now knows my blog name, and can easily look it up. He may already have. As soon as he gave me the paper I put the blog into lockdown, but since he is now in bed I will unlock it for a while. I don’t know what to do. Blogging has genuinely been a lifeline for me this last year, and whilst I know I could just start a new blog elsewhere, this is like my home. This is where everything is, and my identity is tied up in it. I don’t want to have to stop being Bippidee. And if I move I don’t know how I will be able to tell everyone who currently reads where I have moved to, without also telling my dad if he chooses to google it. I am just so upset and angry about the whole thing. How can my printer be so fucking useless that it tells me it is printing ‘Christmas List 2010’, then prints nothing, then 20 hours after cancelling ‘Christmas List 2010’ it prints my Blog Dashboard?! I just feel really upset and stressed. My blog has helped me a lot, and it has kept me going at times, through the people I have met via it etc, and I just feel so upset that I no longer feel safe to keep posting here. I haven’t made a decision about what to do yet. I may relocate, but I don’t know how I will let people know where, as I obviously can’t say it here. I might have to keep blogging here but password protected or invivte only, which is something I have always wanted to avoid because to a large extent that defeats the purpose for me. There is no good solution in this situation, and I just feel really upset. It has really put me into a complete spin. I feel like I have just lost the only form of support I have other than L, and I don’t know what to do.

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