Posts Tagged ‘diazepam’

>I don’t have much to say. Things are much the same. I was absolutely exhausted yesterday, and a combination of that, Diazepam, and Zopiclone managed to knock me out enough that I could sleep last night. The sleep was welcome, although I am still exhausted, but what I was more concerned about was not being awake during the night and feeling as desperate as I was the night before. I have no idea what will happen tonight, as I very much doubt I will be able to sleep again.

I spoke to my GP earlier. She seemed a bit perplexed that the crisis team had discharged me and I was back to just seeing L fortnightly. She said that she would speak to L, and I said that she wasn’t there today, and she she said she would speak to her tomorrow. We talked a bit more and she decided she was going to call the crisis team again and get them to make contact with me this afternoon. I am assuming they told her to fuck off essentially, and that she then contacted the CMHT, as I have heard nothing from the crisis team, but I did get a phone call from the CMHT manager, saying that he had spoken to Dr O, and that he just wanted me to know that they are aware of how I am feeling. It was essentially a lot of patronising bollocks with him asking me if I knew I would be seeing the psychologist when I felt up to it, and me saying I know I am on the waiting list, and him then having to correct himself and admit that yes, I was on the waiting list. It pissed me off that he tried to imply that if I felt up to it then it could start now, which is clearly bollocks. She has apparently given them a good indication of what she feels is going on, which is lovely for them, and why I might feel like people aren’t listening to me or rejected or abandoned (BPD anyone?) Anyway, he went on to say that they do understand how difficult I am finding things, and that the plan is that until I can see the psychologist (in 3 months time) to continue seeing L fortnightly, and have phone contact when required, and that he just wanted me to know that. So, the same as was happening before I was feeling suicidally depressed then? That’s helpful. I appreciate my GP’s efforts, but they appear to be in vain, as have my attempts at getting help been. I have tried absolutely everything now, apart from going to A&E, but I see that as entirely pointless, because that means being seen by the crisis team who discharged me two days ago, and presumably refused to take me on again today. I don’t think anyone could claim that I haven’t tried to get help to get through this.

I have to go to a rehearsal tonight which I am absolutely dreading, but I got out of Monday’s by saying I had an upset stomach, and still got a rather narky text from the director, so there is no way of getting out of going tonight. That means I have to do things like get dressed and wash my hair, which feel ridiculously beyond me at the moment. I have to leave in an hour and a quarter and I’ve been trying to make myself get out of bed for about 3 hours now and failed.


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>I have had a visit from the crisis team. They called about 2:30 and checked it was ok to come, and arrived about an hour later. It was a man and a woman, both of whom I have seen before, but don’t really remember much about. I had a vague recollection of the man when I saw him but if he hadn’t said that he had seen me before I doubt I would have remembered. The woman I recognised by her voice – she has a lovely Irish accent, and so when she spoke I remembered seeing her before. It all feels a bit of a blur, I feel a bit like I have been hit by a bus. Not implying that they were bus-like or anything. It is just exhausting. The man did all the talking whilst the woman wrote notes.

They asked how I was, and I fairly stupidly said ok. Because it seems like the polite reply? What I find confusing about the crisis team is that they ask questions that either they already know the answer to, or if they don’t then they should, as it would only take a quick peek at the notes. There seemed to be a bit of confusion as they started by saying I had switched GPs to the one I go to now, and that I used to be under another county, and I said yes, but that was two and a half years ago. I have been under the care of the crisis team since then. They then went on to say I had been under a CMHT in the other county, and I said yes, but again, that was two and a half years ago, and I have been under my current one since, and they then asked if I was still under my current team and who my care coordinator was, and when I last saw her. Surely this is all fairly simple stuff that would literally have taken a quick glance at my notes to find out? Anyway, then they said I had been to my GP yesterday and told her I was feeling depressed and suicidal and so she had referred me to them. It sounded slightly accusatory – I really didn’t want them to think I was being attention seeking and to be written off as being another Borderline etc. I explained that I see my GP monthly and yesterday was just a routine appointment, but that obviously we had discussed how I was feeling. They asked some questions about how my mood was, how long it had been like it etc, and asked what had concerned my GP and made her contact them, and I said that she hadn’t said she was concerned, but presumably saying I was suicidal? Seemed a bit obvious to be honest…. They asked about medication and I said that I was only on PRN Diazepam (again, perhaps check the notes?) but that when I spoke to L earlier in the week she had said perhaps it was time to consider medication again, and they agreed with that and said that they thought I should see Dr E. It is all a bit vague. I was finding a lot of things quite distracting – my head for a start, but then I have been having a lot of issues with external noises lately – I can’t even have music or the TV on in the background like I would usually as I find it stressful and irritating, so noises like the wind howling (and my house is 16th century and therefore one big draft – the wind really howls) and the dog barking etc make me very tense. It appears that this was obvious in the way that I was behaving, because at one point when I talked about how difficult it was to distract myself because of not liking any noise, they said that they had noticed how tense and agitated I seemed by the dog barking and when the wind got louder etc. They talked about my sleep and went through the usual things of no caffeine too late at night, try having a bath before bed to relax you, try taking extra Diazepam etc. They asked about getting out of the house and seeing friends etc, and I said I didn’t really see any friends, and that apart from my appointment with my GP yesterday I last left the house on Wednesday for rehearsal. They asked about my suicidal thoughts, and I talked for a few minutes about wanting to die, and how I feel it is perfectly reasonable given how long I have been feeling bad for etc. I think it was around this time the woman took over the talking. I liked her voice. Her accent was soothing. They asked if I thought about suicide methods, and I said constantly, and they asked if I could tell them what. I hesitated over this for a minute, as I didn’t want anything taken from me or anything, so I said that I didn’t really like talking about a plan. They asked if there was anything I could do to make myself safer so that I would be less likely to act on it, like give them anything, and I said that at the moment I didn’t feel like I wanted to be safe – that I wanted to be able to act on the thoughts, because I didn’t want to be alive. They asked if I would call if I needed to – if I was feeling worse, and I tried to explain what I had said to the man yesterday – that if I was feeling like I was going to act on my thoughts then I couldn’t call because I would be too determined by that point and I wouldn’t want help.

She got a bit tougher at that point – prior to then she had been quite softly spoken and gentle, and I kind of assumed she was just that type, but she got a lot more kind of authoritative and assertive and I realised she wasn’t the type of person to try and bullshit actually. She went on to talk about supporting me over the weekend – she said they could call me tomorrow, and visit again if necessary, and that then on Monday they would talk to L about what the best option was, but that I had to be willing to work with them and to try and keep myself safe etc. She said one of the things that I would be expected to do was call them if I needed to, if I was feeling at risk or something. I said I understood what she was saying, but that I would not be able to call if I was feeling like I was going to act on my thoughts, because if things felt any worse and I was feeling any more overwhelmed then I wouldn’t want help. She said she understood that, but that she would want me to call before it got to that point, if I felt like things were getting worse, rather than waiting until it was at the point where I was about to kill myself. That made sense, but at the same time it didn’t – if things were any worse then I would be at the point where I was about to kill myself. That was why I had told my GP and the crisis team man I spoke to last night how I was feeling. I don’t think there would be a middle step between here, and being at the point where it was too late for me to want help. I was feeling ambivalent about it anyway. So I wasn’t really sure what to do about that, and I’m still not to be honest. I am feeling unsafe, although I think I can probably get through tonight because it isn’t a night I would consider suitable, but I am struggling with that. For some reason I didn’t know how to put that into words, so I couldn’t explain, so I just said that I would try. She said how the crisis team is an alternative to hospital admission, and how obviously in hospital you have staff around you all the time, which you obviously don’t with them, but that was why they gave out this number, and to call it if I needed to talk to someone. And that was more or less it really. Or at least it wasn’t, but it was all I can remember.

I am not sure what to feel. I am absolutely exhausted. I have been writing this on and off for 4 hours now – they hadn’t long left when I started it, and it is now 8:30. My head is all over the place. I just can’t think or concentrate and I am finding my thoughts really distracting. I am glad they weren’t completely dismissive like I was concerned they might be, but I am still feeling unsure about whether I can get through this, even with their support. I do feel like I need to see them again tomorrow, but it is difficult as my parents will be home all day, and I feel extremely uncomfortable trying to talk to someone if my parents are in the house, partly because I am worried about being overhead, and that makes me not want to be honest, and partly because I don’t trust them not to insist on speaking to my parents as has happened in the past, which I don’t think is fair when I am an adult who just happens to live with my parents. I am so tired, and I have a headache, but I think that if I try and sleep now I will wake up in a few hours and not be able to get back to sleep. I don’t know what to think about everything. I need to stop writing because trying to think is hurting my head.

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>Sleep still isn’t impressive. Last night, or rather this morning, or I suppose technically speaking yesterday morning, I finally got to sleep at about 7:30am. It is now 5am, and I have had 10mg Diazepam and 7.5mg Zopiclone and I am not feeling remotely sleepy. I am not sure what to do. I know that it is because of my mood, and if I started to feel better then my sleep would improve, but I also know it is a vicious cycle, and sleeping in this pattern, and not getting enough sleep generally is going to make my mood even worse. I have absolutely no idea how to break the pattern though – the time I get up and what I do during the day don’t seem to impact on the time I am able to sleep when I am feeling like this. Medication doesn’t seem to be helping. I suppose I will just have to put up with it.

My parents both knew what time I got to sleep last night, as I was still awake when they got up, so my mum didn’t wake me up like she often does. I still didn’t sleep terribly well, or get as much sleep as I would have liked really. My dad said to me this evening that I had massive black circles under my eyes and looked really rough. I said that I was tired, and he said why don’t I sleep at night then. I said that I am not sleepy. I am tired, but not sleepy. He asked why and I said I didn’t know. He asked why I was feeling bad and I said I didn’t know. He asked if I was thinking any bad, silly thoughts (his phrase) and I laughed. He does occasionally try to talk to me about how I am feeling, but he can never ask if I am having thoughts about suicide, or even self harm – he will say things like bad thoughts, or silly thoughts, or evil thoughts. Not evil as in thinking I was evil for having them, he just seems to think that the suicidal thoughts are evil, which they are I suppose, for making me feel so bad. I said I was just tired. How can you explain to someone that you don’t remember the last day when you didn’t think what they consider to be evil thoughts? That you don’t remember the last time that given the choice you would pick life over death. That you have thoughts of wishing bad things would happen to the people who care about you so that you can kill yourself without upsetting people. Those are what I consider evil thoughts. I hate myself for thinking them. But I am that desperate to die. How are you supposed to explain that?

Overall my mood is really quite low. I have absolutely no motivation to do anything. It takes real effort to get out of bed to go to the toilet or something. My personal hygiene has become non existent. It is now the early hours of Saturday, and I haven’t showered since Sunday. Whilst I can appreciate that is disgusting, it just seems like a much bigger thing than I am capable of doing. I am absolutely dreading this rehearsal on Sunday. I am desperately hoping it won’t happen, as I am yet to hear about a time and venue for it, but I am fairly sure that unfortunately it will happen. I don’t know how I will manage that. I suppose I will just have to turn up and hope for the best. The only good thing about it is that it isn’t a full cast rehearsal – it is just the male lead and I, and then the director/choreographer and the musical director. So hopefully I won’t have to make too much small talk. I am just really desperately hoping they decide not to rehearse Sunday after all. I am going to try and shower tomorrow. Well, today actually since it is 5:20am. I feel like such a mess. Is this living? Feeling terrible, wanting to die, unable to do anything, not wanting to talk to people, not wanting to see people, not caring about anything, not enjoying anything, having no motivation, not looking forward to anything, losing your ambitions and hopes and the things that mattered to you. I wonder if people would be so anti suicide if they had experienced feeling like that. Although obviously of course I hope very strongly that my friends who have mental health problems are able to keep going, I do understand that sometimes the pain of trying to live like that, with no pleasure or interest in anything, and constant thoughts of suicide wearing them down, means that people just can’t keep going anymore, and I don’t judge that. I can’t judge that – I have attempted suicide twice in the past, so it would be hypocritical to judge others for doing the same but succeeding.

I had had another Zopiclone when I started writing this, so I am hoping that 2 Diazepam and 2 Zopiclone will be enough to send me off to sleep – let’s give it a go. Shame it is already 5:30, but I took the Diazepam about three ago hours ago, and the Zopiclone two hours ago, so it isn’t like I didn’t try to sleep earlier. Let’s hope it all works and I am not still awake in two hours time. I think it has to – surely my body can’t withstand 20mg Diazepam and 15mg Zopiclone?!

‘I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I’m living.
So different now from what it seemed.
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.’
– I Dreamed a Dream, Les Miserables

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>I’m Still Here

>So, it is the 1st January 2011. 1/1/11. Start of another shitty year. I still wish I was dead and that I hadn’t made it to this year, and I still plan to correct it as soon as possible. I have a vague feeling that killing myself is a somewhat inappropriate New Year’s Resolution, but that is the thing that I want. I spent last night with my parents at home – half a bottle of champagne and a couple of Diazepam got me through. I am struggling to write. There’s lots I meant to say but I just feel like my brain has fogged over, and it isn’t due to the alcohol from last night. I intended to try and write about the positives of 2010, but I am feeling too shit to bother. I know there were positives. I just couldn’t make them mean anything to me – they all felt irrelevant. I will try and do it at some point. At the moment Sondheim’s lyrics from the song I’m Still Here from Follies pretty much sum things up.

I’ve run the gamut, A to Z.
Three cheers and dammit, c’est la vie!
I got through all of last year and I’m here!’

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>I am still struggling enormously. I am completely terrified by how close New Year is. I want so much not to be alive by then, but I know that realistically I am not going to get an opportunity to act on it before then, and I don’t know how to cope with that. I want to be dead now. Not in a few weeks or months or years. Tomorrow my aunt, who has been over from the US for Christmas, is coming over, which means I can’t do anything tomorrow, and couldn’t do anything tonight. And then it is New Year’s Eve. At the moment I am coping by taking Diazepam when things feel too much, and am generally just a bit of a mess. I think the only way of getting through New Year’s Eve will be taking a lot of Diazepam, and anything else that might help, and just sleeping through it, but even that isn’t really a solution because I will have to wake up the next day. I want to die so much. I really just can’t express how hideous this feels. And it is just so bloody unrelenting. Ok, sometimes I get a few weeks when I feel crap but I am slightly more able to cope, and less suicidal, but things are always shit, and I seriously believe that suicidal is a completely logical decision for me – I feel like it has reached a point where the pain is just too much, and too unrelenting. I want out as soon as possible. I know that it is very unlikely to be before the New Year, but it will be as soon as is practical after that.

People say I have achieved things this year and that I should be proud of myself. But the point is, that none of the things I have done actually mean anything. They have no impact on my life, or how I feel. Sure, I have done things, but they don’t mean anything. I still feel hideous and I still want to die. I don’t want to wait and see what the future brings, or what opportunities there are in the New Year or anything else, because it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I am just desperate and I don’t want to be here, and nothing can change that.

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>I cannot fucking cope with this lack of sleep. I slept for about 3 and a half hours last night, have now been awake for 17 and a half hours, have taken a Diazepam and a Zopiclone, and I still can’t sleep. It is 3:30am. I spent the whole day absolutely exhausted and have been feeling completely drained and really shit, and now I can’t sleep. I am desperate to sleep, and I am exhausted, but just not sleepy. I don’t know what to do. I am too tired to even think straight, and yet I can’t sleep. Last night I was exhausted and yet still couldn’t sleep until 6:15am, and even then kept waking up. Admittedly I hadn’t had a Zopiclone then, just a Diazepam, as I needed to be able to get up this morning, but I still spent the night incredibly tired and yet unable to sleep. I was so convinced that if I didn’t nap at all today that I would sleep well tonight, but no. I feel like my body is betraying me in every way it can – first not losing weight despite eating an amount that should have made me lose a good half pound, and now not being able to sleep despite being completely exhausted. I feel like crying, but I am too bloody knackered.

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>It is 3:30am and I don’t know what to do with myself. I am not sleepy. Not at all. Exhausted, but not sleepy. I don’t know what to do. It’s funny. I read so much normally. Even if I am not feeling too great I can read children’s books, or fast paced books like thrillers, but when I feel really bad it is like I forget how to read. Of course I can still read the words, but they don’t go into my head. I read a sentence, and have no idea what it actually said. So I give up. Occasionally I persevere and get through a chapter, and then realise that I can’t even remember the name of the character, let alone anything that actually happened. At that point I generally realise it is quite futile even trying to read, and give up until my mood starts to pick up a bit. I try and carry on reading simpler things, like blogs and message boards – nice little short manageable things. But often the same thing happens. I read a blog update and have to keep going back over and over it. Sometimes I just give up, like with books. Reading is what I usually do in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. I am not sure what to do with myself when that option isn’t there.

There is nobody to talk to. Obviously my parents are asleep. My friends are asleep. Nobody is online. I could go and talk to the dog, but even he doesn’t seem to appreciate it very much when I go downstairs in the middle of the night. I don’t even know if I want to speak to anyone. Some of the time at the moment I just want to shut the whole world out. My family. My friends. Everyone. Nobody can say anything that will make me feel any better, so there is no point talking about how I feel. And how am I supposed to talk about anything else, when that is all I can think about? But sometime I just feel really lonely. Completely isolated. I can’t talk to anybody, because there is nobody to talk to. I don’t like worrying people, so I can’t talk to family or friends. And there is also an element of me that is wanting to keep quiet about how I am feeling because the suicidal thoughts are very strong, and they are saying that if nobody knows then nobody can try and stop me. Not that anyone could actually stop me killing myself, but they could make it more difficult for me. Well, I suppose technically I could be stopped if I was in hospital, but I am confident that won’t ever happen again.

Sometimes I feel like there are two mes. Two voices inside my head. Well there are two voices inside my head, but they are both mine – they aren’t actual voices. Just out loud thoughts I suppose. But they do have conversations about things, and I don’t know which side the outside of my head me agrees with. For example, the suicidal voice is quite liking the fact that L is away. It knows that normally I would talk to L if I was having suicidal thoughts, and that would help me to get through them. It also knows that one of the things that bothers me about killing myself is feeling guilty because of how much L has always supported me, and knowing that if I killed myself and she had known I was suicidal (which she would know if she was there, because I always tell her what I am thinking) that she would have to justify all her actions and decisions etc at a tribunal, and maybe she would feel guilty or something for not being able to stop me. I don’t know. It just knows that I don’t want to let L down, and killing myself would be the ultimate way of letting her down I suppose. But if she isn’t there, that doesn’t apply. She doesn’t know how I am feeling. She wouldn’t have to justify anything. There would be no guilt. It keeps reminding me of all of that. How much easier it would be to do it now, when she isn’t about, than it would be when she is there. Not easier in physical/practical terms, but emotionally. So the suicidal side is seeing quite a lot of positives. Then there is the other side – the side that wants help. The side that often pisses me off by being too needy, too emotional. I am not sure what to call it. I suppose essentially it is my survival instinct, so I will call it the survival side. The survival side really isn’t liking L being away. It is like it has lost its main support in surviving. She is the person I talk to, who I tell how I feel, and who helps me cope with it. She doesn’t take it away, because nobody can do that, but she listens, and she doesn’t judge, and she supports me, and knowing she is there to do that helps me survive. My survival side is panicking a bit about not having that. Although technically there are other people I could speak to – whoever is on duty at the CMHT, or maybe my GP – it knows I won’t, because I don’t trust those people. The suicidal side would not allow me to call the CMHT and say how I am feeling, and what thoughts I am having. I don’t think any side of me would want to do that actually. I don’t trust people, and of course there is nothing they can do. And there is absolutely no way whatsoever that I will be taking any trips to A&E, which is always a risk when telling someone how you feel. So yes, survival side is finding it very difficult not having L around. Survival side’s first instinct when feeling bad is always to speak to L, and it seems a bit short on other suggestions. The only thing is has come up with is to try and keep thinking of things to stay alive for – as I said before, at the moment that is my Dad’s birthday on Tuesday. After that it will have to try and think of something else. And to take Diazepam if I feel overwhelmed. But that is hardly rocket science. I sound like a complete idiot talking about 2 sides of me thinking things as though they are people, but that is how it feels. As a whole I have no idea what I think or feel. It changes all the time – one minute I am with suicidal side, the next I am trying to listen to survival side. I don’t know where I am. I just know I am confused and overwhelmed by it all. It is tiring having a battle in your head the whole time.

‘Ooh, Thank you, doctor, Valium is my favorite color. How’d you know?’ – Next To Normal

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