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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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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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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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>Hurt

>So I have my appointment with L later. I am not feeling remotely positive about it. I can’t see an outcome that could improve things or make me feel any more positive about anything. I feel like it is going to be a difficult appointment for both of us – she is going to be frustrated by me because I don’t feel able to do simple things like get dressed and go out for walks daily, and eat regular meals, and improve my sleep, and I am going to feel useless because I can’t do any of those things, and frustrated with myself for being so pathetic, and with her for not being able to do more, which I know is unfair, but I just feel so horrible. I seriously considered not going to the appointment. Not just not turning up, because I don’t do that, but cancelling – I am not sure whether for her sake or mine, or both. I did actually send her an email in the afternoon to that effect, saying that I was concerned it would be frustrating as she would want me to do things that I don’t feel able to do, and I didn’t want to make things tense, or to frustrate her, or make me feel worse. She replied that she thought we should talk about the options, and so would be happier if I kept the appointment, so I will go. I am worried, and I think not without reason, that she is going to stop seeing me. She talked last time about how if I am feeling this bad she obviously isn’t helping, and maybe she is either taking a wrong approach, or she is the wrong person to be working with me at the moment. I have a strong suspicion that she may suggest we either take a break from sessions, or that she will pass me to another member of the team. I know I must be immensely frustrating at the moment, and based on the last time I saw her I just wouldn’t be surprised if something like that happens. I will just have to see what happens I suppose, but I really won’t be shocked if something along those lines does come up, particularly given what she said about talking about the options, as I am unsure as to what else she could mean by that. I feel like I am letting her down at the moment by not being able to do the things she wants me to.

It has been yet another difficult night. It begun by me getting a bit upset by some comments I received regarding this blog. I was told amongst other things “Sorry Bip but your self-pity and self indulgence is starting to grate. And, ‘Madospherites’, i do know what I’m talking about (more than most of you cyan imagine) don’t come back at me with self-indulgent drivel.” I was quite hurt to be honest. I suppose it touched too close to home to what I worry people will think of me, and what I think the professionals might be thinking of me. The thing with this blog is that although I do really appreciate all of the comments and support I receive through it, I write it for me. I write it because I am encouraged to write about my feelings and thoughts, as it helps me, and I like using blogging to do that because it allows me to connect with others. I don’t write in order to garner sympathy or pity. I write whatever I am thinking at the time. But to be honest this has made me consider taking a blogging hiatus, at least whilst this particularly bad episode persists. Although I would continue to write, as I need to do that for me, I may not publish anything for a while, although I will see how I feel. I never wanted my blog to turn into one long moan, and essentially it has, and I don’t want people to think of me as a continuously negative person who just whines non stop. I do not want people to reassure me regarding this because they don’t want to hurt my feelings by telling me how dull and whiny I am, I honestly don’t. So I am considering a blogging break. I will post later to say what happens with L, but I will see how I feel after that. If I continue to write, and you do think I am whiny and need to get over myself, please just stop reading. I don’t want anyone to read out of a sense of obligation. If you are a friend and feel like you should read so you know what is going on in my life, but find my writing grates, then just stop – I honestly don’t mind. This is primarily for me, and whilst I have met some fantastic people through this blog, who I now consider friends, I don’t want anyone to read if they don’t want to.

I really am fully aware that I am difficult and frustrating at the moment, probably to professionals and friends alike. I appear to be in an incredibly deep depression, that is certainly amongst the worst I have ever experienced, if not the worst, and despite time passing, it isn’t easing at all. If anything, I seem to be feeling increasingly hopeless. I suppose it could be seen as fortunate that things have been as bad as they have. I have had so little energy and felt so terrible that the vast majority of my time seems to be spent either asleep (although I am not getting much sleep), just lying in bed feeling paralysed and so completely unable to do anything, or just somehow disappearing without me even really realising it – I suppose through dissociation. It literally sometimes takes me an hour or two to manage to get myself out of bed when I need the toilet (although I was also told “No-one is literally unable to get out of bed unless they are physically disabled”). I have no appetite most of the time, although I am forcing myself to eat anyway, although not regularly. To be honest, I feel almost certain that if I had slightly more energy I would have attempted to kill myself by now, but despite the thoughts constantly churning around in my head, I just feel too exhausted to act on them. It always strikes me as somewhat ironic that you can be too depressed to kill yourself. Plus I have genuinely been trying to get by for the sake of those who care about me, despite not wanting to, and so I have been putting whatever energy I have been able to find into asking for help when I feel like I need it, although it has proven to be fairly futile on the whole, writing here to try and clear my head, and trying not to cut myself off from people completely, which is certainly tempting when I feel like this. I have been making a lot of effort, although it evidently doesn’t appear that way to some people, but I know how I feel, I know the thoughts I am having to contend with on a daily basis, and I know how desperate I am, and how strongly I feel I don’t want to be here, and although that may mean I am coming across as self pitying and self indulgent, (and perhaps I am these things) I am doing absolutely everything I feel able to do at the moment. I am still alive, and although I think that is largely due to the extent of my depression, I suppose I have to view it as an achievement, despite it not feeling like one.

So where from here? I don’t know right now. I suppose I go to my appointment this afternoon with L, and try to be honest about my feelings, despite knowing it isn’t what she wants to hear. And then, who knows? I will blog following my appointment, which to be perfectly honest I am already dreading, and after that I will make a decision about whether I want to continue to blog at the moment or not. And life generally I guess. Que sera, sera.

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>DWP and friendship

>I meant to blog earlier, but I didn’t know what to say. I feel like I have said it all. Multiple times in fact. I think everyone has grasped that I feel like shit and want to die. For anyone new, or who hasn’t picked up on the situation, that is it. I mostly write as a way of trying to get all of the thoughts out of my head, but they don’t appear to be going anywhere even when I do write, so it seems quite pointless from that point of view, and I am just really lacking motivation. There are a couple of specific things I wanted to write about though, so I will try and write about those, rather than just generally rambling.

I got a letter yesterday, which stressed me out. From the DWP, wouldn’t you know? It says, and I quote (anything in red is an addition by me),

‘Dear Bippidee (of course addressed to my real name, or it would just be weird)

We need to see you in order to discuss the benefits we are currently paying you because a query has arisen on your claim. What the fuck?! We need to ensure your payments are correct and it is important that you are available so we can discuss the matter further. What matter? I see no matter to discuss. Please fuck off and leave me alone.

You should note that where there is doubt about whether the conditions for entitlement are met, we can suspend payment of your benefit. Thanks. Please fuck off, again.

A Customer Compliance Officer, Mr Nosy Fuckwit (not real name) will be calling on Thursday, 24 February 2011 between the times of 9:30AM and 3:30PM. Please note we will not be able to state a specific time. Helpful. Thanks for that.

Some irrelevant crap like stuff they want to see, none of which I know where to find etc etc.

Yours sincerely
Mr Nosy Fuckwit
Customer Compliance Officer’

This fairly naturally sent me into a complete tailspin. Firstly, what on earth is there to query about my benefits?! The only thing I am claiming is old Incapacity, although due to lack of NI contributions it has always been paid as Income Support with illness/disability premium. I live at home with my parents, which they know, I have some savings that are within permitted amounts, which they know, I don’t work, I am not going out partying every day and claiming under false pretences. I don’t claim Housing/Council Tax benefit as I live with my parents. I am not even claiming DLA, which I have been told by multiple people I am eligible for. So what is there to discuss? What can possibly have been queried? I asked on Twitter yesterday, and also did some Google research, and it seems like they are essentially the overspill of the fraud department, and are generally sent around when someone has said you are making a fraudulent claim, or if they suspect you are living with a partner and have claimed you are living alone etc etc. A few people have said they occasionally make random checks, but I would seem a bad person to make a random check on, given that my claim is so straightforward to most people’s – I claim one benefit. I am not at all happy about them sending a man around to my house. I don’t want some strange man in my house making accusations that I am a benefit fraud. I don’t want some strange man in my house full stop. And them not being able to give a time is completely shit. I wasn’t planning to go anywhere, but it is very rare at the moment that I get to sleep before 6am. I will have to be awake by 9:15am in case they do come in the morning. And then what if they don’t come until 3pm. I am meant to stay awake all day having probably had 2 or 3 hours sleep, waiting for them? That won’t happen. And what if I wanted to arrange for someone to be here with me for support – are they supposed to stay for six hours?? It seems totally unreasonable. I tried phoning the number on the letter that it says to contact immediately if you are unavailable etc to a) find out what the hell it is about, and b) try to pin them down to a more precise time, for example morning or afternoon, but I got no reply. And it didn’t even go to answerphone. This stress was absolutely the last thing that I needed right now with how I was feeling. It actually made me even more determined to kill myself before then so I didn’t have to deal with it. I don’t know where my driving licence or passport are, I have no utility bills, I have no rent agreement – all of which they want to see. I have a bank statement. But I have two bank accounts and only have a statement for one of them. They will hate me. I just really didn’t need this stress. I know I have done nothing wrong and so I have nothing to be worried about, but my experience with the DWP has shown me that you have to be worried even if you haven’t done anything wrong, as they will treat you like a criminal regardless. Fuckwits.

Right, onto a nicer subject. Today the most beautiful bouquet of flowers arrived for me. It was from La Reve and I can’t say how much it meant to me that she had done that for me. It was completely unexpected, and nearly made me cry. I can’t believe that someone whom I have never met, and have only known a relatively short time, would want to do something so sweet and generous for me. The madosphere is a wonderful reminder of how many fabulous people there are out there, who really do care for others, and will do things to try and help. She knew she couldn’t stop me feeling like this, but she showed me she cared, and that meant so much. And does every time I get a supportive comment or email or tweet. It reminds me that people care, which is a really big deal when you don’t feel you are getting any care from the professionals, whose job it is to care. There will always be people who say it is a bad idea to talk to people you have met on the Internet, that you don’t know who they are, that you should never meet anyone you meet online, that talking to other people with mental health problems is a bad idea etc etc, but I have never found any of this to be remotely true. I started meeting up with people I met online, on theatre and dance messageboards, when I was 16, and have since met others from all sorts of sites, and whilst I haven’t kept in touch with everyone I have met from the Internet, I have met some of my closest friends online, and I can quite honestly say that I think it would be very unlikely that I would still be alive if it weren’t for people I have met online – both those in person, and those who have supported me on here. The support is absolutely invaluable, and I wish more people would realise how wonderfully supportive the Internet can be. Here is a picture of my beautiful flowers;

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>Useless friend

>I feel like a shit friend today. A friend of mine, who I met during Carousel, is moving to London next weekend as she has got a job there. I didn’t really get to know her very well until probably the week before the show – that was a strange show to rehearse, as I was only in the long dance scene, and then two other scenes, so until a couple of weeks before the show the only other cast members I really had much to do with were the people playing my parents, as they were who my scenes were with, the dancers and children who were in the ballet scene, and some of the other principals because you tend to get to know them at initial read throughs etc. So I had spoken to her a few times, but that was about it I think. Then on the day of the tech rehearsal between the band call and tech rehearsal, five of us, including her, went out for lunch, and we got on well and during show week chatted a fair bit, and talked online, and then a week or two after the show finished she came over one day etc. I haven’t seen her since then, which would have been early November, but we have continued to chat online. Anyway, because she is moving tonight she was having a farewell drinks thing. It wasn’t a massive thing – she had invited quite a few people, both people from Carousel, and friends of hers that I didn’t know, but I don’t think that many people were going. She told me about it weeks ago, and although I felt a bit anxious, as plans were all a bit vague and I find that stressful, I had intended to go. But then this week has been so hideous that I just couldn’t face it. And the pub people were meeting at is always packed, so she didn’t even know if they would be able to get in there, or if they would have to find someone else, and I just cannot do busy places, and on a Friday night pretty much everywhere is going to be busy. I would have liked to see her, and the girl who played my mother in Carousel, who is a really wonderful person, whom I also haven’t seen since November, was also going, and it would have been nice to see her, but I hate anywhere crowded, and although I would probably have tried to go had I been feeling better, there was just absolutely no way that it was going to happen this week. But I feel like a really shit friend for not going, because she told me about it so many weeks ago, and I just feel like she must hate me. I spoke to her online earlier and said that I was really sorry but that I wasn’t going to be able to make it – she does know that I have mental health problems, although I don’t talk about them in depth with her, and when I last spoke to her a few days ago I did say that I wasn’t doing very well depression wise at the moment, and so when I spoke to her today I apologised and said that was why. She said it was fine but I still feel guilty.

Then something happened with another friend today that also made me feel really guilty and like a shit friend. I have a friend who I have talked about on here before a few times – the last time would have been when she came to stay in October, and she was also here in July. Anyway, I will henceforth call her E, as I realised I don’t have a name for her. She has been severely anorexic for years now, and has spent a long time inpatient as a result of it, but was really very ill both times I saw her last year. She was on the waiting list for inpatient again, but comes from Ireland, where the system is very different, and there seem to be far too few ED beds for the number of patients, as there were something like 3 beds and 12 girls waiting for them. Anyway, when she was over in October she was talking a lot about wanting to get better, and hoping a bed would come up soon for her, but then soon after she went home she actually started doing much better. She was eating more, and managed to cut down a lot on the amount she was purging, and the number of laxatives she was taking, and was starting to gain weight. I was concerned that she would get to BMI 15.5/16ish and then hit a brick wall, as I know that is the point she has managed to get to several times in hospital, and has then relapsed, and I was worried because they took her off the IP waiting list as she was doing so well. Unfortunately it went more or less as I predicted – her BMI was high 15s before December, and she was really struggling with it and starting to cut back, and since then she has been finding it really hard, and has lost some weight again, although I don’t know how much, and then the last couple of weeks has been feeling increasingly depressed. I spoke to her last night and was quite concerned, as she did seem low, although I didn’t get the impression she was actively suicidal, although I may have been wrong, but she was certainly feeling bad and struggling a lot with her eating, and was back into her old patterns really. She was due to see her psychiatrist today, and she said she would be honest with them and tell them what was going on, and when I spoke to her this afternoon she had been admitted – not a long term ED admission, but a short term admission to try and lift her mood, and also stabilise her eating a little if possible. I had simultaneous thoughts – I was pleased that she was getting help, because I have felt for a long time like she needs it, although I don’t think a short term admission like this is the answer, and I was glad she was safe, but at the same time I felt jealous. I feel terrible for saying that, because she needed help, and I am pleased she got it, but at the same time I don’t understand why it often seems so simple for other people to access more help when they are struggling, and yet I never can. I am not saying I would want to be in hospital – it is always something I feel very ambivalent about, but when I spoke to her she said how it was a relief to have a break, and that just hit me really hard. I just felt like crying. Suicide is still my preferred option, but as at least a temporary alternative a break would be really bloody good right now. I am just too exhausted to keep going like this, and I feel like if I look at the short term I either need a break or I need to kill myself. Admittedly the local NHS psych ward wouldn’t actually be my place of choice for a break even if it were an option, but I don’t know. I guess I just feel so desperate, and this week has felt more horrific than I can even express, and so anything feels like it would be better than this. As I said, it isn’t an option anyway, and if it were then I am sure I would refuse, as there have been multiple times in the past when I have been offered admission and turned it down – the only times I have been in hospital were voluntary admissions, but I wasn’t actually given a choice about going. I just couldn’t help feeling jealous knowing that E saw her psychiatrist today and was admitted, when it doesn’t matter how much I struggle, or how desperate I am, I just seem to be left to do. But I feel really guilty, and like such an awful friend, not to mention really quite weird, for feeling jealous that E has been admitted to a psych ward. I suppose I just really am so desperate that even something I would usually avoid at all costs seems like a better alternative right now.

I spoke to L earlier. I rung and asked to speak to her, and they said she was with someone but they would get her to call me back. When three hours had passed and I still hadn’t heard anything from her I was starting to give up, but she did call back. I didn’t feel able to really say how bad things were – I tried, but at times like this it seems that the words don’t even exist. “depressed” “suicidal” “desperate” “hopeless” – none of them actually even begin to convey how horrific it feels. It is slightly easier when I can ramble at length, rather than trying to form coherent sentences, but I don’t believe the words exist to fully explain the extent of these feelings. I did try – I said it had been a really awful week and that I was feeling very depressed and was completely unable to distract myself, and that my sleep was awful and essentially that I just couldn’t cope. She said more or less all she could I suppose – to try and plan my time and do things to distract myself, and to keep writing things down, and that we could talk about it on Tuesday. It just feels so futile. Talking about it on Tuesday won’t make any difference whatsoever. I don’t even want to be alive by Tuesday, although I probably will be I suppose. But it won’t change anything. I am feeling really disillusioned with everything at the moment. I just see absolutely no way forward from here, and I don’t view continuing to feel like this as an option, which once again leads me back to suicide. Even when I try not to think about it, it always pops up as being the solution. The right thing to do. The answer. Maybe it is. I don’t think my brain would push it so hard, and so continuously, for so many years unless it was the right course of action. Brains are supposed to have survival instinct, but mine just tells me to kill myself.

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>Happy Birthday Blog!

>Today is my blog’s 1st Birthday! I would really like to thank everyone who has read and commented over the last year. Starting this blog was one of the best decisions I have made in recent years – I have met so many really incredible people, and I am so thankful to know all of you. I would never have dreamed when I started this blog a year ago, just as a place for me to write about how I was feeling, that I would get so many readers, and that I would end up feeling so close to my fellow bloggers. So thank you all very much for your support over the last year – I genuinely have no idea where I would be if it wasn’t for all of the support and understanding I have received from readers of this blog, both here on the blog, and on Twitter, Facebook, and via email and MSN – people staying up half the night to support me through bad times by talking to me, or leaving me comments, or just checking in on me when things haven’t been great. It really does mean more than I can say, and whilst it sounds somewhat melodramatic to say I don’t know where I would be without it, I really don’t. This really has turned into one of my main sources of support, or at least the people I have met via it has, and there are definitely times I don’t know if I would have managed to get through without the support. I couldn’t wish for a more caring and compassionate online support network, and you all mean so much to me. Thank you so much for everything.

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