Break

Just wanted to let you all know I am not intending to blog for a while. I may or may come back to it, I don’t know. I have met some wonderful friends through this blog who I value enormously, but I feel too much like I am being judged by what I write here to continue. I have nothing to talk about except how I feel, and that is not changing, and I can’t cope with being accused of crying wolf for talking about my feelings, so I feel a break is in order. The suicidal thoughts are incredibly strong, but since I am still alive that apparently proves I am just attention seeking, and the fact that the professionals and my family know how I am feeling but don’t offer any more support makes me feel like they either also think I am attention seeking, or that they have accepted my decision – it doesn’t really matter which. As I have said before, I have been having trust issues for a while, and they have just been exacerbated by things that have been going on on Facebook lately in relation to this blog, and I just can’t deal with it. I had been considering taking a break anyway, and events tonight have made up my mind. If I am around, those of you who want to keep in touch with me know how to. Thank you very much for all of the support over the past 15 months or so. I appreciate it enormously and wish you all the best. xxxx

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Karita

I was lucky enough today to be visited by the lovely Karita. I can honestly say that she is one of the most caring, supportive people I have ever met. It was really good to have someone there, in ‘real life’ who I didn’t need to pretend with, and who was completely non judgemental and made me feel cared about. Despite having never met her before, I felt able to be completely honest with her, which although I do when writing on this blog, I find incredibly hard to do when actually speaking to someone, but I just felt completely at ease with her. She spent hours listening to me and cuddling me and letting me cry, and just being completely wonderful. I can’t say how much I appreciated her visit. Her husband, who is also lovely, drove her up here, and then left us to it for a few hours, and then I had my appointment with Dr O, which she came to with me, and then we came back home and they both came in for several hours, and left at about 9pm. They don’t live close to me, and so it really did mean such a lot that they had made so much effort to come and visit me. I am always amazed that anyone could care about me at all, let alone someone who had never even met me, and had to travel hours to come and see me, just because I am struggling so much. I am immensely grateful that she did though, and just for the record, she gives great hugs! I really can’t thank her enough.

My GP appointment was fairly uneventful I think. Karita may remember more if than I do – I don’t have a great memory about appointments. My mum had spoken to L at some point today, and told me that L had said to ask for blood tests to be done, which she did suggest to me a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot about, and that if my GP was happy to then she could prescribe an anti depressant. How kind! I have only been saying for about nine months that I thought I was better on medication, even if it was only slightly. My GP said that since I have problems sleeping as well then Mirtazapine might be a good one. I can’t remember if I actually laughed out loud at that or just in my head, but I said there was no way I was taking it, and she asked why, and I said because of the weight gain. She said that I knew too much, and that she wouldn’t have told me about that. Suggestion number two was Seroxat. Since I had no actual intention of taking anything that was prescribed due to the whole suicidal thing, I did let her give me a script for that, but it is not a medication I have ever wanted to take, primarily because of the controversy over it regarding stopping taking it, and also the fact that it increases suicidal thoughts in some people. I mentioned the Panorama programme and got told off for knowing too much again. I am sure Karita won’t mind me saying that my favourite part of the appointment was when Dr O was talking to her and asking where she had come from and if she worked etc, and then asked if she had taken time off work, ie meaning today to come and see me, and Karita was clearly thinking in mental health terms and replied ‘no, not recently’. My second favourite bit in the appointment was after telling my GP how suicidal I was feeling, she asked what my parents were doing tomorrow, and said (quite excitedly I thought) that there was point to pointing on, and seemed to be presenting that as a reason to stay alive. My GP is sweet, she is very well meaning, and she cares, but I think Karita would probably agree that mental health is not her speciality, and she does come out with some comments that are either very random, like the point to pointing suggestion, or quite unhelpful, like trying to guilt trip me into staying alive by telling me how it would destroy people’s lives if I killed myself etc. I never find comments like that at all helpful, as of course I think about it – I think about it non stop, and I hate myself for it, and I wish there was an alternative, which is why I continue to seek help even when I no longer want it for myself, but there does come a time when your pain is just too immense, and even knowing how much you will upset the people you care about just isn’t enough, but I think that is probably something that is incredibly difficult for anyone to understand unless they have actually felt that level of desperation themselves. I tried to be honest with Dr O. I think I was, although I did find I was getting more and more frustrated as the appointment went on, and so remembered less and less of what was being said. She just kept telling me that I could keep going, and that I could see the nurse for blood tests next week and then her again the following week, and I was getting more and more worked up as the suicidal thoughts are just so overwhelming. She told me to book the appointments for the blood test and to see her again, and also told Karita to talk to me about things or something when we got home (I’m not really sure – I think she was telling her to persuade me not to kill myself?) and then to phone and speak to her later, but I didn’t book the appointments, as it seemed entirely pointless, and I didn’t phone her, as I had seen her an hour before – I had nothing else to say. She did phone and spoke to my mum, but I have no idea what was said.

The suicidal thoughts are very strong and very overwhelming. I truly wish there was a way out of all of this without hurting people, but there isn’t. I can’t cope, I am completely desperate, and yet again I am in the position where I am next due to see someone in nearly two week’s time. I am out of options. I have told everyone how I feel. I have tried to get help, even when I haven’t wanted it. I have tried to keep going. I have tried doing the things I am supposed to be doing, like going to bed early the other night, going for a walk etc etc, but I still feel the same. It was really great to see Karita – she really was an absolute star, and I love her to pieces, and all of the support I get online is invaluable, but nobody can take away the thoughts, and at times like these when I am alone with them it is just all too much. I have no hope for the future, I have no fight left in me – I have nothing but desperation.

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Another day

It isn’t getting any easier. Last night was horrible. I literally was unable to keep my eyes open, and fell asleep, crying because I needed to stay awake longer so that I could wait for my parents to go to bed and kill myself but just couldn’t do it. I slept for a few hours, and then woke at about 2:30am I think. I was still feeling utterly exhausted, but not sleepy. I needed the toilet but I didn’t have the energy to move, so I held it in for about three hours before I finally reached the point where it was moving or wetting the bed. When I woke up I was questioning whether or not it was too late in the night to go ahead with my plan. I don’t do things on impulse, and I will not attempt suicide unless I think there is at least some chance of it working, and obviously the higher the better, and for my first choice plan this means leaving as much time as possible before anyone will find me. My second choice plan isn’t time limited, but is very much a last resort plan as far as I am concerned. I knew that the man from the DWP could arrive any time after 9:30am, which meant that potentially I didn’t have that long, or at least not in comparison to the length of time I would sometimes have, and I was yet to write the note I wanted to leave, which would have taken some time, and so ultimately I decided I couldn’t do anything. I decided I would prefer to wait one or two more days and have a higher chance of it being successful. I was still very upset about it all though, and once I had woken up I couldn’t get back to sleep for at least four hours. I came online and talked to Danni on Facebook chat for a long time, who was very supportive. I found I was getting increasingly worked up about everything, and so in the end decided to call out of hours, and ended up speaking to the same woman I had spoken to the previous night. She seemed different last night – I suspect she had looked at my notes and seen the BPD diagnosis, as she was certainly less supportive than she had been the night before, and started going on about doing a part time college course and moving out and various other things that feel beyond me when I am doing better, let alone at the moment, whereas the previous night she had been surprised by the lack of support and was telling me I needed to fight to get suitable help. Of course I can’t prove anything, but her attitude was definitely different last night. It didn’t really help talking to her, as the things she was talking about were just so far out of my realm of possibilities that it was more frustrating than anything else. After I spoke to her I came back online for a little while, but was feeling really quite upset, and decided I would go and invade my mum’s bed and sleep in there, which I sometimes do when I feel shit.

Today my mum woke me up at around midday, as the DWP man arrived. It was pretty ridiculous really – he had been sent around because the Inland Revenue had a query about the amount of interest my savings account had made in 06/07. They thought it seemed too high. I said that since I have always had to send off bank statements to the DWP, they have always known how much money I have, and so I don’t see how there can be a query about the interest, when they had a statement to go with it. He said it clearly hadn’t been entered on the system properly or he wouldn’t have been sent around. It seems ridiculous that they will send someone around about something from five years ago, that would have been unnecessary if people had done their jobs properly. He then had to go through all of his form and ask if I had had any changes in circumstances, if I was still unable to work, etc etc. I have got to dig out all of my bank statements since November ’09 and send them to him – that will be a mission. He was very friendly though, not remotely confrontational or pushy, and if I hadn’t been feeling so awful and exhausted it wouldn’t have been remotely stressful.

This afternoon my mum dragged me (pretty much literally) out on a walk with the dog with her. I didn’t want to go – I felt ridiculously tired, my head was feeling like it was going to explode, and my legs felt like lead. I can’t say it was remotely enjoyable, in fact I loathed it, but at least they can’t say I am not trying. She has also been making sure I have some food, although I have absolutely no appetite. I am not eating three meals a day, or anything even approaching it, but I am having something every day. The suicidal thoughts have been very intense again today. I got very upset earlier and just kept telling my mum I wanted to die. Today I felt like I reached a point where I no longer wanted help, I didn’t care that L wasn’t doing anything, or that I couldn’t see the crisis team, or anything else. I just don’t care anymore. I am too drained and too exhausted, and too sick of fighting. I have given up on trying to get help, as it clearly doesn’t work, and I feel fine about that. I just don’t want to be here.

Today I have felt very undecided about whether I was going to act on the thoughts tonight or not. It is actually another blogger who has made me decide not to do anything tonight. I desperately want to, but another day can’t hurt right?? A couple of days ago the lovely Karita offered to come and visit me tomorrow. At the time I was planning to kill myself last night, but since I am still here today, I have decided that I can get through one more night. It amazes me how kind and caring people can be – I am so grateful to all of you out there who have been so supportive of me. It means so much. Lovely Frankie phoned earlier and we had a nice chat. I feel very lucky to have such caring people around me, albeit online rather than in person (except for tomorrow of course). I also have my GP appointment tomorrow, which again, I wasn’t planning to be here for, but the combination of that and Karita visiting are making me think I must get through tonight. I know there is nothing my GP can do, and as I said, I am past the point where I want help to be honest, but she was very caring and supportive when I spoke to her yesterday, and she said repeatedly that she really wanted me to go and see her tomorrow, so I will. There really is nothing she can do – L has effectively blocked both the crisis team and hospital, and I don’t even think that seeing the crisis team would be enough anymore anyway, and I don’t want to be in hospital. I think this is the worst depression I have ever been in. It isn’t lifting at all, and there is usually at least some part of me that wants help, but trying so hard to get it and getting nowhere has just taken the last of my fight out of me, and I have nothing left. I have been trying to do what I am told – I went to bed early last night, and it was a disaster, I went for a walk and hated it, and it exhausted me to the point that I had to go back to bed and just lie down in the dark when I got back – I didn’t even have the energy to have my laptop on. At least nobody will be able to say I haven’t tried everything. But I will get through tonight, and tomorrow I will spend some time with Karita, who is lovely (and I am sure spending time with friends must be another approved thing to do – they always seem to ask if I have friends I can see), and I will see my GP, and hopefully that will be the end of my involvement with any professionals. I did feel like it was unfair of me to let Karita come all this way to see me when I am such a mess and will probably be really shit company, but she has assured me that she doesn’t mind. I don’t care what anyone says – the internet is really really great. (Any musical theatre fans can carry on with the lyrics from there!)

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This evening

I am absolutely exhausted, to the point where I don’t think I can keep my eyes open any more. I got very little sleep last night, and it has been a really draining day. I feel gutted. I was really determined to kill myself tonight, but my parents will still be up for another hour/hour and a half, and I don’t think I can say awake that long. I feel immensely frustrated. My GP rung me earlier, after afternoon surgery. Actually she rung the landline and spoke to my mum first, but I don’t know what she said to her. Then she spoke to me and said that things were really tough at the moment weren’t they, and I said yes. She said how it seemed a particularly bad period, and I said it is. I talked to her for quite a while. I got quite upset several times. She said she wanted me to go and see her Friday – I said I couldn’t cope and I intended to be dead by then. She said that she had spoken to L, and L had very clearly told her not to refer me to the crisis team under any circumstances. She kept saying she really wanted to see me on Friday and we could talk about things then. I said there was no point, as there was nothing she could do, and I wanted to die today, but she said she was putting it in her diary anyway and would expect to see me. She said I sounded too exhausted to act on my thoughts. I said I was absolutely shattered but that I would find the energy. And yet now I don’t seem to be able to, and it is upsetting me. I can’t remember what else my GP said. She was very supportive, but it was also very clear she had been told by L not to suggest admission or crisis team input, as she responded different to how she usually would, and did make a point a couple of times of saying she had spoken to L. I said how pissed off and upset I was that I felt like I was being treated like a typical Borderline, and given no support or help, when this was quite clearly a depressive episode, and that if I didn’t have a BPD diagnosis there was no way on earth that I would just be left to get on with things like this with no support, and people knowing I was planning to kill myself. She didn’t disagree.

My mum then wanted to talk to me. I explained to her the same BPD/Depression frustrations, and how I don’t understand why when I meet every criteria without exception for one illness, and just about manage to get the 5 criteria needed for diagnosis for the other, that is seen as my primary diagnosis and I am treated based on that. She asked to see the diagnostic criteria and printed it off and said she would call L tomorrow. I also told her how much L had changed – that she used to be really supportive and caring and how she is just totally unhelpful and I think she hates me, and I think she has been taken over or replaced or something, because it is genuinely like she is a different person – based on the way she speaks to me now compared with six months ago I wouldn’t recognise her as the same person. I am worried about my mum talked to L. L can clearly force her way of thinking onto others, in the way that she has with my GP (although I believe it was somehow forced onto L in the first place, but I am not sure how) and so she will make my mum think she is right about everything. All of this was probably about a ten minute conversation and then she seemed to get bored of the wanting to talk thing and went off downstairs, and then later when I said I thought she wanted to talk, she first of all said that I wouldn’t ever talk to her, then remembered I had and said that we had already talked and that she wanted to go downstairs and drink her wine. I can’t trust anyone. Nobody is reliable. I was prepared to tell my mum everything, including my suicidal intent, but she was more interested in going and having a glass of wine. My GP has been restricted so she is as good as useless, as she can’t even refer me to someone, and it doesn’t matter how sympathetic she is, if she can’t do anything it doesn’t help. And L has changed beyond recognition.

I can’t keep my eyes open. I suppose I am going to have to sleep. Maybe I will be able to wake up in the night. I don’t know. I don’t want to sleep. I don’t want to get through tonight. I want to die. But it appears that my GP was right and I am too bloody exhausted to even do that. I feel thoroughly useless.

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>Horrible day

>I called the out of hours number again last night. I felt awkward doing so – I didn’t know what to say, and it felt wrong as I wasn’t intending to kill myself then, as today was the funeral of my mum’s boss who died last week, and she was obviously going to that, and I was supposed to be as well, and something about his funeral today made me feel like it would be disrespectful and unfair to try and kill myself the night before. But I got to a point where I was feeling really tense and desperate, and although I didn’t plan to kill myself then, I really needed to talk to someone, so I rung them. I spoke to a different woman to the other night, but again, she was very nice. She asked what was going on, and so I told her I had been struggling a lot and that things had been bad for several weeks, but were getting even worse. She asked when I had last been seen by the CMHT, and I said that day, and she asked if plans had been put in place to support me and I said no. I said how suicidal I was feeling, and she asked if I had a plan, and I said yes, and explained about not being able to act on it that night. She asked if I had told L I had a plan and I said she hadn’t asked – that she knew I was feeling suicidal but that she says it is pointless talking about suicide and there is no mileage in it. The out of hours woman sounded a bit baffled by the whole thing to be honest. She asked if I had been honest and actually told her how bad I was feeling, and not just said I was a bit low or something, and I told her I had definitely been honest, and there was nothing I had told her that I haven’t told other professionals over the last few weeks. She said they couldn’t just leave me like this and that I clearly needed help, and it was urgent, and that I had to try again today. She said to speak to my GP and ask for a crisis team referral at the very least, and also to make sure L knows just how bad I feel. She was very supportive, but seemed kind of bemused by the fact that I was getting no support other than fortnightly appointments.

Following that I sent L an email, saying I had spoken to out of hours, and saying I had been advised to contact GP and ask for a crisis team referral etc, and went on to tell her how strong the thoughts were etc, and the reasons why I hadn’t acted on them last night, and basically everything I had spoken to the out of hours woman about. I got a reply saying it wasn’t appropriate to email those thoughts and she would prefer if I rung next time. She also said that the crisis team wouldn’t get involved as I have a care coordinator, which I know is not true – they might not get involved because she tells them not to, but the fact that I have a care coordinator is completely irrelevant. I replied saying that I thought perhaps the crisis team could help, and certainly if I was to try and do the things she was suggesting then it could help, and that I thought they were there for when you are in crisis regardless of whether or not you had a care coordinator. I got a reply this afternoon saying that if I needed support to do things we could discuss a support worker next time I saw her (I had said months ago that I wished I still had a support worker but she didn’t mention anything about it being a possibility then) and that the crisis team do sometimes get involved when you have a care coordinator but only in certain situations. I replied that I couldn’t cope, that I couldn’t even put into words how desperate I was feeling, and that I know things could improve or that things might help in the future, but that right now I just can’t cope, that this is as bad as I have ever felt, if not worse, and that I have kept going for as long as I can, but I didn’t get a reply to that.

I tried calling my GP this morning. She was in morning surgery, which I knew she would be, but they said they would get her to phone me when she was finished. They did the usual of asking if I could say what it was about, and I said that I was suicidal and had been told to phone her – I don’t usually tell them things like that but I am just totally desperate. Morning surgery finishes at 12:30pm, although she often runs over, but I still hadn’t heard anything by 2pm so I rung back and asked if they had any idea what time she might be able to ring me, and they checked that the note to call me was on the system, which it was, and said she was out at the moment but shouldn’t be long and they would ask her again when she got back. Afternoon surgery starts at 4pm, and I still hadn’t heard anything, and it is now 5:15. I suppose there is still a small chance my GP will call me back after afternoon surgery, but I am not holding my breath, and I don’t think there is much she can do anyway. I was just calling her because the out of hours woman made me promise to.

I don’t know what I am supposed to do. I have done absolutely everything I have been told to do. I have been completely honest about how bad things are. I have asked for help. I have done what the woman from the out of hours number said and tried to contact my GP, and I have made sure L knows how bad things are. But I cannot get any support at all, and I can’t cope. I have tried so, so hard, and it is just hopeless. It is so clear that they either don’t give a shit whether I kill myself or not, or they don’t believe me. But either way there is nothing more that I can do. I have spent the last three weeks desperately trying to keep going, and get some support, but I can’t get anything more than a fortnightly appointment, and my mood has just been getting lower and lower, and I just can’t cope. I really wish I knew what they expected me to do. I am completely exhausted, and feel utterly hopeless.

And yes, I am sure this is all self pitying drivel and I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. But the fact is I have been trying incredibly hard to get the support I need to keep going, and it just isn’t there for me. And I can’t do this alone.

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>Collapsed brain

>I am really determined to get an earlier night tonight. It was 7am again last night/this morning, and I just find that so hideous. I hate being awake still when I hear my parents getting up. If I lived on my own I don’t think I would care, but I just hate hearing other people getting up when I haven’t been to sleep yet. So I am really hoping for an earlier night tonight.

I got through rehearsal ok. I had to go at 6:30 to work on my songs for an hour with the Musical Director. That was ok. He seemed happy enough, although he is very precise about what he wants, so is quite hard to please. And seems to think that I have lungs of steel and can hold a note for far longer than I actually can. But he seemed pleased. Although it was slightly embarrassing, as I have a tendency to not warm up very thoroughly before rehearsals – on Mondays I literally don’t get a chance to as I go straight from ballet, and on Wednesdays I tend to do maybe 5 or 10 minutes, which is totally inadequate. Tonight I had probably warmed up for about 20 minutes, which is still fairly pathetic, but an improvement on usual, and he asked if I had just come from a singing lesson or had been warming up properly as it sounded much better than usual. Note to self: warm up properly – people can tell the difference unfortunately. I have got very lazy vocally – I haven’t had a proper singing lesson since the summer, and I don’t sing every day, which I really should be doing, and then I expect to be able to go into a rehearsal, without warming up properly, and sing four solos, a duet, and solo lines in a couple of other songs, plus ensemble singing. Doesn’t work. It isn’t fair on my voice. After that I spent an hour and a quarter getting increasingly fed up and desperate to get home, as I was just sitting around, as they were working on a number I am not in. Then finally they started work on the number we were scheduled to rehearse tonight, which is a big ensemble number, lead by me and three others, which has a big tap break in the middle. The tap is very fast – not difficult steps, but very fast, and with some tricky rhythms, which makes it difficult. Unfortunately I have already forgotten one section, which is indicative of my current inability to concentrate and retain information, as usually I just have to do a dance a couple of times and it is ingrained in my head, but I just can’t remember some of it at all. I now have no rehearsals for a week and a half, which is the most enormous relief. It is half term next week, and as the MD is a music teacher, and the Director/Choreographer is a dance teacher, they both have the week off work, and so are going away (they are a couple), which means no rehearsals until Sunday 27th. I also don’t have ballet next week for the same reason, so I basically have no commitments at all for the next week and a half, and that just feels so good. Although at the same time, it does make me feel more unsafe. When I have commitments, like rehearsals that I know I can’t miss as it would mess things up for the rest of the cast, it makes me feel obliged to keep going however shit I feel, whereas now I am free from that, which makes the suicidal thoughts even stronger. Of course I realise it would be difficult for them after that week and a half if I were dead, but I can’t think that far ahead, and all I can think at the moment is that I have no commitments at the moment, my mum’s birthday is out of the way, and so there is nothing to stop me acting on my thoughts. To be honest I am feeling quite unsafe.

I tried to phone my GP earlier. I didn’t have a clue what I would say to her. Saying ‘I don’t trust you because you have been taken over by them and now you have taken over my mum, but I need help’ seemed somewhat inappropriate, but is the truth. I don’t trust her any more – I don’t trust anyone. But I am desperate, particularly as I knew I have been feeling increasingly unsafe. So I didn’t really know what to do. In the end I did ring, at about 12:30, and the receptionist said they would get her to call me back as she was with a patient. She didn’t ring all afternoon, and I know that she has afternoon surgery from 4 – 6, so I knew that if she did call me back it would be after that. I had left my mobile number as usual, but I had to leave for rehearsal at 6, and was rehearsing alone with the MD until nearly 7:30, so couldn’t have taken any calls in that time even if she had rung. My GP tends to phone at strange times – I have had a call from her at 8:15pm before, so I kept my phone on vibrate in my pocket, so that I could answer it if she did ring, but I didn’t hear anything. When I got home my dad said she had rung at 7:30 – I don’t know why she had called the landline rather than my mobile, but obviously it meant I couldn’t speak to her. That doesn’t really feel like a bad thing – I didn’t know what I could say anyway. I just feel like I need help from somewhere, and I would prefer to speak to her than whoever happened to be on duty at the CMHT. L is in work tomorrow, so I have sent an email asking if she could phone me. Again, I feel very unsure about what I can say, as I am still feeling really mistrustful of all professionals, and I know she can’t change how I feel or what I am planning to do, but I just really need to talk to someone I know, and whom I have trusted in the past, even if I don’t at the moment. It probably won’t help or make any difference, but at least I will have tried. I really have absolutely no idea what I can say to her. I don’t even know what I am scared of. I just don’t trust anyone at the moment. I do wonder whether there is any point trying to get help. I have done that, it didn’t work. Maybe I should just learn from that and not try and get help – just get on with it. But when I feel very suicidal and unsafe I just get this frustrating part of me that nags me to talk to someone, even if I know it will make no difference. I suppose knowing it will make no difference is why it feels safe to do so. I know nobody can stop me from acting on my thoughts if that is what I choose to do, or at least L wouldn’t anyway, so despite feeling like she has been taken over and is against me, I know she wouldn’t make me do something I wasn’t happy with, like insisting I go to A&E, or having me assessed or anything like that, and my mum already knows so it isn’t like she can threaten to speak to her. That’s one of the reasons I couldn’t call the CMHT whilst she was away – there was the possibility of fuckwit ex-care coordinator being on duty, and if he knew I was feeling like this then he would insist I went to A&E, or have me assessed under the MHA, and I am not having either of those things happen. But I still trust L not to do that, and I don’t believe my trust in that respect is misplaced, because I know hospital is the last thing she wants for me. I feel confused. I don’t know what to say to her if she calls. I don’t know what I can tell her. I don’t trust her because I know she is on their side, but she is also my only option. And she can’t stop me. Suicide feels so appealing. It is like it is beckoning to me. I just feel like such a mess at the moment. I am beyond confused. My brain just feels like it has collapsed.

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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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>(Mis)Trust

>I wrote the buttercream off as a disaster. I have no idea what went wrong. Who would have thought it was possible to mess up mixing butter and sugar? The number of times I have made buttercream too. It really isn’t hard. I suppose I will have to try again tomorrow, because at the moment my mum still doesn’t have a birthday cake. I feel sorry for her – she had a bad birthday. I think she had a really tough day at work with her boss dying this morning so unexpectedly – all of the staff were really upset, and so she was quite emotional all day at work I think, and then had to come home and only have an hour at home before taking me off to ballet and rehearsal. She went to see my brother whilst I was in ballet, and then we had a little bit of time between ballet and rehearsal so we got take away pizzas from a nice bar in town, and then she went to see a friend whilst I was rehearsing, so I guess she had an ok evening, but I think overall it can’t have been a very nice day. I will try again with icing the cake tomorrow. I want to make it look really pretty but I can’t quite decide how. I am a bit rubbish at doing anything other than basic icing. I made quite a pretty cake for Mother’s Day last year, but I would have liked to do something a bit different decoration wise, but I either lack the imagination or the skill to pull off anything much more creative. Whilst I am on the subject of food, the last few days my weight has started to go back up and I am really struggling with it. It was going down, and that was literally the only thing that I felt was going right in my life. Now it is going back up, which is making me feel even more hopeless, and I would be lying if I said it wasn’t adding to the suicidal thoughts, which were certainly strong enough without dealing with weight gain as well.

Well I got through ballet and rehearsal. It was an enormous relief to get home and know that I don’t have to go anywhere tomorrow – that there is absolutely no need to leave my house for anything. Rehearsal was difficult yet again. I feel like I am completely useless and they cast the wrong person in the part, and like by now they will have realised that and be regretting their decision. The girl who is playing the second female part has a stunning voice – vocally she is definitely stronger than I am, and I hear people talking about how good she is, and I am sure they are thinking that she should have been cast in my part. When I hear her sing I think she should have been cast in my part. I also had to have the publicity shots taken tonight, which weren’t terribly attractive I don’t think, but I kind of don’t give a shit at the moment. What was more difficult was talking with someone about the show etc as part of the publicity. They asked the easy questions I could answer, like where I live and how old I am, where I went to school, what other companies I have worked with etc. Then came the ‘What do you do?’ question. I do nothing. I said something along those lines. She said so are you still studying or anything? No…. I do nothing. How do you say that without sounding like a complete idiot? And then she followed that up by asking if I had been to drama school or university. No, I haven’t done that either. I actually am 24, not studying, not working, and haven’t done anything since the age of 19. Not that I said all of that of course. Then it was why did you want to audition for the show, and what attracted you to this part, which were easy enough to answer, followed by how are you finding it – are you enjoying it? Mmm. Enjoying. That doesn’t seem to be the word that has been springing to mind lately when I have thought about rehearsals. Dreading? Yup, that will be the one. That doesn’t sound so good in an interview though, so I switched it for enjoying. White lies don’t hurt anyone right? So that felt quite difficult, because it just reminded me of everything I should have achieved and haven’t, and the things I should be feeling about the show and am not. And then I always hate having my photo taken. Oh, and finally, to add insult to injury the costume woman was there to take measurements. Perfect! That cheered me up no end.

I wrote yesterday how I have found I am cutting myself off from people online a lot – usually I spend most of my day online, and am always logged into Twitter, MSN, Facebook chat, Skype, and usually have several conversations on the go. Lately I have been appearing offline on MSN a fair bit, not signing into Skype, not signing into Facebook chat, and watching Twitter but rarely engaging with anyone. I think I am just terrified of the same thing happening with the people I trust online as it did with the people I trust in real life. I am also generally ignoring texts, and most people know better than to phone me anyway. I can’t cope with feeling let down or abandoned by any more people. I am scared that somehow people from the internet will be taken over too, despite knowing that makes no sense, as I don’t believe that my mum or GP etc were taken over by some form of mind control and had thoughts beamed into their heads or anything like that. I believe that the crisis team and the CMHT manager (who is probably influenced by my psych, as I feel like she is involved, despite my not seeing her since June – perhaps because of my not seeing her since June) managed to persuade L, and my GP in particular, of things that they hadn’t previously believed or thought, and my GP to the extent that she did a complete 180, and went from trying to get me more support from them last Wednesday, to telling my mum they couldn’t do anything because I have BPD etc on Friday, and persuading my mum of the same thing. So I know logically that unless someone from online speaks to someone from my treatment team, which is not going to happen, they can’t be taken over. But that doesn’t stop me feeling paranoid that they just might. Or that the crisis team and psych and everyone else are right and I am just an attention seeking, manipulative borderline who doesn’t deserve any help, and people will start to see through me if I talk to them. I feel incredibly alone. I really, really feel like I need some professional support at the moment, but I have exhausted that, and now there is nowhere to turn to, and it is still a whole week before I am due to see L, who at the moment I don’t even trust. I just feel so isolated and I don’t know what I can possibly do.

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>Alone

>Over the last couple of days I have thought increasingly about telling my mum. This morning I decided that it couldn’t make things any worse and that I would. I sent her a text saying that I couldn’t cope, and that I had been trying really hard, but that my GP seemed to be the only person taking me seriously. She was out when I sent that, but she rung me and said she would come home but she needed to go food shopping at some point today so should she go whilst she was out already, and I said that was fine. I was quite surprised she didn’t ask me what was going on or anything but I thought maybe she wanted to talk about it when she got home. She came home and didn’t really say much. She said she had spoken to Dr O, she didn’t say what they had talked about, but I know that at some point in the conversation she must have complained about the crisis team saying that they would arrange a psychiatrist appointment, and then just discharging me, and Dr O (who is anti meds) evidently told her that I have BPD, not Depression, so she didn’t see what good meds would do, as my mother who had been annoyed all week about me not being seen by the psychiatrist suddenly thought it was completely fine. She also seemed to have no problem with the crisis team suddenly stopping seeing me, which she had previously been annoyed, and didn’t seem to see that there was a problem that I was being left with no support for two weeks. Somehow they managed to convert her so that she just agreed with them. My mum used to call up and complain if I wasn’t getting enough help – now she is justifying their actions to me. I think they all either think that this is something I am choosing, and that I feel like this because I want to, or they think I am exaggerating the whole thing, or they don’t care whether or not I kill myself. I am not sure which, but they have got my mum thinking the same. So I don’t even have support from her – she has been indoctrinated to say the same things that the professionals say, and is defending things that yesterday she was annoyed about. I feel like she doesn’t care what happens to me. Despite me being incredibly upset, and her knowing that it is incredibly rare for me to be asking for help, she did absolutely nothing apart from calling and speaking to my GP. She didn’t even bother calling L, which seems a bit strange given that she is my care coordinator. She clearly wasn’t concerned enough to think it worthwhile. And amazingly she didn’t even try and take away the tablets I have or anything. Which I am glad about, but it just reinforces the feeling that she doesn’t care, as in the past that has always been the first thing she has done. Of course I always have others hidden so it doesn’t matter if she does take them, but the fact she didn’t even try proves that I am right. I feel like everyone is against me. I don’t know what I have done wrong, because I have honestly just told the truth, but there is very clearly something. ‘Nobody’s Side’ has been running through my head all day. My eyes are stinging from how much I have been crying. I feel incredibly alone. I don’t trust anyone.

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>Overwhelmed ramblings

>It is 4am and I am sitting here crying feeling totally overwhelmed and like my head is actually going to explode. This may not make much sense, I don’t even know what I am saying yet. I just need to do something to try and ease my head a bit. It’s been a really difficult evening and night, the thoughts are very strong, and I just seem to be finding it harder and harder to cope every day that goes by. I have no support for the next week and a half, and no way of accessing any other than calling whoever is on duty at the CMHT that day and them telling me to have a bath or go for a walk. I am feeling so desperate and I just keep trying to carry on and keep going and it just feels like torture, and I feel like there is nothing to keep trying for. There aren’t even any small things that I can use as little targets, for example this time last week I knew I was seeing my GP the next day, then the crisis team the next day and so on, and although these weren’t fun things, and in fact they made me very anxious, knowing that I had some support was helping me cope. I found it really difficult on Monday when I didn’t hear from the crisis team like I had been told I would, but I knew that I was seeing L on Tuesday and I was just desperately hoping that would help a bit, or that she would be able to offer something in the way of support, or just something, anything. Since then I have been finding it harder and harder as I am just feeling incredibly unsupported.

I think a week or two ago I said how people always expect me to cope because I generally do, but that was the case last time I attempted suicide, when the only support I had was fortnightly sessions with a psychologist who I hated and found very unsupportive. I always thought that at least now I would never feel as unsupported as that, because I have L who has always been very supportive of me, but in a way it is worse at the moment, because I didn’t expect that psychologist to do anything to try and help – she very clearly had a problem with me, and I found her patronising and sanctimonious. I felt like actually she couldn’t have cared less whether I killed myself or not, and so I didn’t expect any support from her. I hoped for different from L. She always has been very caring, and she would care if I killed myself, or I think she would, but I am still not getting any more support, and that almost hurts more and feels harder, because I hoped for more. Hope is dangerous, because then you end up in an even worse position if whatever you have hoped for doesn’t materialise.

When the crisis team let me down at the weekend, by making promises that didn’t materialise such as arranging an urgent appointment with the psychiatrist, and saying they would phone me and then not doing so, I wasn’t that surprised, because most people I know have had bad experiences with crisis teams, including me. But it still hurt that they discharged me without telling me. And then I saw L, and I know I must have been very difficult that appointment, because at the moment my mood swings between just wanting to die, and feeling like I need to try and get through this but that I can’t do it alone, and that morning I just wanted to die, which isn’t really surprising given that I had a stressful day the previous day when I was essentially waiting to hear from the crisis team the entire day, then a difficult night with only a few hours sleep. I was obviously not in fighting mode. But I was still honest about everything. And to just have an appointment made for two weeks time actually felt quite devastating. As I said yesterday, I spoke to my GP, who seemed unimpressed with the crisis team discharging me, and L not seeing me for two weeks, although I did say that L would be on leave next week. And now it is Thursday night, or technically Friday morning, the suicidal thoughts are very strong, the person I have trusted most for the last 18 months hasn’t seemed able to offer me any support this week, and is on leave next week, and I am being left with nothing and I am just supposed to get through and cope somehow and I just can’t do it. I know this sounds terribly self pitying, but I have been trying so fucking hard, and doing everything you are told to in terms of asking for help etc, and it has just got me nowhere. And I am still feeling as bad as ever, and feeling less and less able to keep going, but with nowhere to turn. And I don’t want to upset people or let people down; my family, my friends, the cast of the show, everyone who reads this or who I talk to on Twitter, L, my GP, which is why I have been trying so hard to keep going, and why even when I have wanted to die I have been honest about my feelings. But I just feel like I can’t keep going any more. Today I thought about calling L, as she had said on Tuesday that she would be there today if I needed to talk, but I realised I had absolutely nothing to say. I couldn’t ring and say ‘Well you already know I am feeling desperately low and that I intend to kill myself, but I just thought I would remind you’ and what else is there to say? I have asked for help, and that didn’t get me anywhere. I feel ready to punch the next person who tells me that I am strong and that I can get through this (no offence to anyone if you have said that) because I can’t cope with being strong at the moment and I can’t get through this. So I didn’t call. And then after tomorrow she won’t be in work until the 21st, and there is no way that I can cope that long. Or that I want to. I know it is selfish, but I can’t keep living for other people, which is what I have been trying to do lately. And I can’t cope with no support. I feel like I have been backed into a tiny corner so that the only option I have been left with is suicide.

I realised something a little while ago. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to perform. For years and years it has been my ambition, my dream, to be in the West End. It has been the thing I have worked towards for years, and it is the only thing that I ever care about. Performing has always meant everything to me, and being in the West End has been like a life ambition. And I realised that if someone came to me tomorrow and offered me a job in the West End I would still want to die. I want to die more than I want the thing I have wanted and worked towards for as long as I can remember. And I don’t think there has ever been a point in my life, however low I have felt, when I could have said that before. And that is a really horrible thing to realise. My lifelong ambition wouldn’t be enough to make me want to stay alive.

Somehow it has taken me nearly 2 hours to write that. I don’t know what my head is doing at the moment. It feels like time is playing games with me.

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