Posts Tagged ‘mood swings’

So I don’t blog anymore, but somehow when the shit hits the fan it seems that my reaction is to want to come here and write. As I said in my last post, I have been doing relatively well. No crisis team, visits to A&E etc etc. No lows so bad that I have completely crashed and ended up really ill – there have been dips, but they have just about stayed at a level I can deal with. The downsides are that emotionally I have felt very flat and numb, which I blame on the medication, and that despite being more stable, I have still not felt like I want to be here. But they have been passive, rather than active, thoughts.

Over the last couple of weeks this has been changing. Or couple of months according to www.ifnarky.com but let’s not do that because this is my blog, and I prefer to think of it as the last few days/weeks. Slowly at first, and then really fast the last couple of days. My mood has been crashing. It wasn’t entirely unexpected – it is my birthday on Monday, and long-term readers may remember that birthdays freak me out, as does New Year. Other things too, but those two particularly. So a little dip in my mood was almost expected. But it isn’t just a little dip. It’s a bloody big dip. More like a fall off the edge of a mountain style plummet. But. But but but, it is different. I am not going to be able to explain how it is different, because I’m not quite sure to be honest, but I know that it is different. For a start, I am feeling far less emotional than in the past. Again, I am attributing this to the meds. I know I am feeling very depressed because I have lots of the usual symptoms, but the one conspicuous by its absence is actually feeling, well, anything really. In terms of other symptoms, I’ve had some periods of dissociation, and the vast majority of the time I am feeling as though I am underwater – you know when everything sounds and feels blurry and distorted? Very disconnected and spacey. Which a couple of times has been quite scary when driving. Then of course, the biggest problem for me, the very strong negative thoughts that fill my head, urging me to kill myself. But all of this without really feeling any emotions? Strange. I can see how the lack of emotion can be perceived as a positive thing in that I don’t have the completely shit feelings, but it feels weird. And in a way it feels more unsafe, because I am not completely wiped out in the way I would be ordinarily – normally in really bad periods all I can do is lay in bed staring at the wall, but although I am tired at the moment from the busyness of my head, I am not wiped out in that way. Which means I have some energy, which kind of feels a bit scary combined with the thoughts. Which are largely centred around not wanting to be alive, and not wanting to be here for my birthday on Monday, therefore killing myself before then. The time pressure of that is not helpful in trying to deal with the thoughts.

Yesterday I had an appointment with my social worker. I had been very tempted not to go – I didn’t really want to talk to her, because although I like her a lot, I don’t find it helpful seeing her really, and I didn’t want to leave the house. But I went anyway. And within five minutes really regretted that. A little background – my social worker is pregnant, and will be going on maternity leave in September. The week before last she switched me from weekly appointments to fortnightly ones. As I said, I don’t find it that helpful seeing her, so I wasn’t too bothered about that, although I had told her it is a bad time of year for me, and that I therefore was slightly concerned about the timing.  But it was ok. So I didn’t see her last week, saw her yesterday. She asked how I was, I told her that I was struggling, that I was having strong suicidal thoughts etc. She told me that she had been speaking to the team manager and the psychologist that I used to see, and that they had decided that I would be ready to be discharged when she goes on maternity leave in September because I am doing so well. It was a ?!?! moment – I said I felt suicidal, she said I was doing so well that I was ready for discharge. Somewhat confusing. And to be honest I couldn’t take in what she was saying or think about it, because I was struggling too much with what was going on right now to listen to her go on about how brilliant it was that I am doing so well, and how exciting it is that I am ready to be discharged, and what a brilliantly positive step in my life this is. Maybe all of that is true, but really, was that the most appropriate time to bring it up? I’ve been under mental health services continually for 8 years, and it didn’t occur to her that it might be a good idea to have a CPA review with me, and whoever is involved in this decision, and discuss how I would feel about it? Or even just discuss it in an appointment? That presenting it as a fait accompli may not be the best way of doing it, and that when I have just said that I am really struggling seriously for the first time in over a year may not be an entirely sensitive time to bring it up?

This isn’t even a rant about being discharged. I don’t know enough about how I feel about that yet at the moment. I am trying not to give in to the thoughts and kill myself before my birthday. What I am ranting about is the lack of sensitivity, and basic common sense, displayed by mental health services. Telling me that when I had just said how much I was struggling was not a good idea. It was very bloody invalidating actually. Like she hadn’t even been listening to what I had been saying, because she was just waiting to get her good news in, which was very much presented as wonderful news. Does anyone else find this strange or is that just me?

So anyway, that hasn’t helped things. I didn’t need anything else to think about. I was already feeling shit. So today things have been even worse. I am really struggling. There are the thoughts. And then there is me. Not actually wanting to fight them. Even when things are better I don’t want to be here, so what on earth is the point of keeping going? That sort of thing. And this desire, which is actually stronger than a desire, more of a need, to not be here for my birthday. I don’t know. It’s tough. It feels incredibly difficult right now. And I just don’t know if I care enough to fight. Right now I feel like I don’t. And I want to stop my meds, but that is a whole new issue I’m not even getting into now, however related.

This is a horribly incoherent, mixed up post. I don’t write anymore. That is my excuse. Actually fuck it, I don’t need an excuse, it is my blog, and I needed to get my thoughts out somehow.

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>I am really freaking out. I just did my middle of the night weigh in, and I was a whole pound heavier than the same time last night. I honestly don’t know how to deal with that. It sounds so ridiculous, because I know that really a pound is nothing, but it feel like an enormous amount. And actually, if I lose a pound I am very pleased, so I suppose I see it as a lot that way, and therefore gaining a pound also has to be seen as a lot. I was expecting my weight to be slightly higher today, as I probably ate a little more than I have been, and also, my weight was down 0.6 of a pound today from yesterday, when I had expected it to be about the same, or maybe down 0.2, so I did think that it might have gone up a little tomorrow, like maybe 0.4, and was bracing myself for that, but to see the number a whole pound higher than last night just really did make me panic. I just don’t know what to do. I haven’t been feeling good today anyway, and seeing that really did make me have strong suicidal thoughts. Which I suppose proves just how important losing weight has been lately in keeping me going. The ridiculous thing is, a week ago I would have been delighted to see the number I just saw in one of my middle of the night weigh ins, and now it devastates me. That sounds like an exaggeration, but it really isn’t.

I do feel like this last week has been really tough. My mood has been getting lower and lower, and the suicidal thoughts have been increasing in intensity. Then the argument with my mum on Saturday hurt me enormously, and left me feeling very confused, and also like there was less to stop me from killing myself. I really have been desperately clinging on to my weight going down as something positive in my life that I could try and focus on and pour all of my energies into, to try and stop me thinking about suicide all the time, and to prove to myself that I wasn’t useless, and that I was suceeding at something. And now suddenly that has gone, and I am not quite sure where that leaves me. I feel like a failure for a start. And greedy and disgusting and useless. And I hate myself. I am really starting to feel quite strongly again that I just can’t cope. That I need to kill myself, and that actually suicide is the right option. I just don’t want to be here at all, and whilst I do always feel like that, the feelings are far more intense at the moment and I just don’t know if I can get through them, or if I want to.

Ironically I actually had quite a good appointment with L today. True to form I can only remember little snippets of what was said, but I did feel like she understood my point of view regarding the things I have been writing about this week. I think she often feels very restricted and frustrated by the system and the way it works. We somehow got onto the topic of Therapeutic Communities, and how helpful the good ones could be, but how it is virtually impossible to get funding, unless you are currently costing the NHS a fortune, as in lots of admissions to acute wards etc etc, and how someone like me, who just sees her weekly, would have next to no chance of getting funding. She said how unfair it is, and that I have worked very hard and am very good at not acting on my impulses all the time, but that doesn’t mean I am any less ill or am struggling any less than people who do continually self harm or overdose. Although that was possibly just her validating my feelings after what I wrote yesterday! But no, I do genuinely believe that she thinks that and understands how difficult it is for me, and I do frequently get the impression she is very frustrated by the confines within which she has to work. She also said to think about services etc that aren’t available, as she has started to include service deficits on peoples care plans (I think much to the annoyance of her manager!). Not that it will change anything, but I do really like that she doesn’t just accept things as they are, and does try and fight negative attitudes and problems with the system etc – whether it makes any difference or not is kind of irrelevant, I just think it is important that there are people out there working within mental health who are prepared to challenge the system and not just sit back and accept that things are shit. The more people who stand up and do that the better.

It is kind of scary how quickly my mood has dropped. I suppose that is what happens when you invest everything in one thing, in my case my weight, and then that goes wrong. I was feeling very low this afternoon, but nothing like to the extent that I am now. It is like I was at the bottom of a pit, and then suddenly the bottom dropped out and I fell even further. I honestly don’t know what to do. My suicidal thoughts had already started to reach the planning stage in that I was thinking in terms of days and times etc, but it feels that much more urgent now. If I get through tomorrow and Thursday then I will be ok until the end of the weekend, as there would be a lack of opportunity anyway Friday/Saturday/Sunday. And I think I can do that. I just don’t want to. I think I will try and call L tomorrow. Maybe that will help to calm me down a little. I don’t know what else to do.

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>The power of the scales

>I feel shit. It’s weird – an hour or two ago I was in one of my hyper moods with lots of energy, and now I have totally crashed. It was like normal – I didn’t feel happy, but I had lots of energy, and I wanted to do something. I felt like singing, I was in the mood to sing, so I was singing, but it was midnight, and my dad was in the mood for sleeping, so I had to stop singing. And then I thought maybe I would go and make a cake, but I knew I would get bored half way through so I decided not to. And then a little while later my mood started dropping, for no reason, and all my energy disappeared, and I ended up feeling crap. I then just put the final nail in the coffin by going and weighing myself.

I ended up weighing myself in the night last night – I couldn’t resist. It was good though, it made me pleased. I weighed less than I was expecting, and knew that meant I would have lost weight when I weighed properly today. And so when I woke up I weighed, and I had lost weight, and I was pleased. All good. Then today I ate more than I should have. For no reason. I wasn’t hungry. I just felt like eating and so I ate. And then I got scared of what the scales would say tomorrow. Just now I needed to go to the toilet, so I went downstairs and went to the toilet, and then weighed myself. I was thinking over and over again ‘Please don’t be more than X’, which I always do – I have a figure in my head that I need to be below whenever I weigh, based on what I have weighed the last time I have weighed myself, and to an extent on whether I think I have lost/gained since then. So I had the figure in my head, and I was a pound more than that. Which means that tomorrow when I weigh myself I will probably be best part of a pound more than I was today. And it is my own fault for being greedy. I hate myself. It made me feel sick when I saw the number come up. The scales have so much power over me. I was so pleased last night when I weighed and it was less than I was expecting – I was really happy about it. But when it is higher than I want, it actually feels like the end of the world. I know how melodramatic that sounds, but it is like being punched in the face. It makes me just want to cry and cut myself or overdose or just do anything self destructive. I am trying to content myself with biting my duvet really hard. It isn’t really doing the job. I just hate myself so much. I feel so fat and greedy and disgusting, and I just don’t understand how I can have so little self control and allow myself to eat an amount that will have made my weight do that. I know that my reaction seems disproportionate to gaining a pound (0.6 of a pound compared to last night actually, but I am wearing slightly lighter pyjamas tonight, so that makes up the rest of the pound) but it just feels so hideous.

I have a friend coming over tomorrow. I think I mentioned that yesterday. I am scared I will eat lots when she is here and gain even more weight. I can’t cope with that. It terrifies me. I need my fucking self control back. I repulse myself. I wish I hadn’t weighed myself tonight. I was already feeling terrible, and now I feel hideous and disgusting and greedy as well. I suppose at least it won’t be a shock in the morning now. I just wish I could die. Not because of my weight. Or not just because of my weight anyway. It is just everything.

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>Weird mood

>Today has been a kind of weird day. I have been really emotional and up and down and I don’t know why. It started off ok. I was very tired, and found it very difficult to get out of bed, but mood wise I wasn’t feeling too bad. I was seeing L at 11, and that went fine – we spent rather a lot of the time chatting about random things, but I guess it is ok to do that sometimes. I think the day started going wrong after that.

My mum was supposed to be picking me up about 12:15 outside the CMHT. It was raining and cold. She wasn’t there. I tried phoning her twice but she didn’t answer. I tried calling my sister, as I guessed she had gone there. She answered and said she would come then, so I thought she would be there in 5 minutes or so. I didn’t bother going back inside, as the main door has been broken for weeks and so you have to go around the back to get in, and since I thought she would be there in a few minutes I didn’t think it would be worth it. So I just stood there and waited, and got colder and colder and colder. After about 15/20 minutes of waiting, by which time I was freezing and pretty pissed off, I phoned her again. She said she would be there in a minute. She finally turned up when I had been waiting for 25 minutes. It was really cold, I wasn’t dressed *that* warmly, and I have crap circulation at the best of times. So by that time I was in a foul mood. If she had said she was going to be a while I would have waited inside or walked down to the shops, but it really annoyed me that she told me she would come, and therefore I stood outside in the freezing cold, whilst she was sitting around at my sister’s house.

I was still freezing by the time we got home, so stood leaning against the radiator trying to warm up my feet, as they only warm up by touching something hot, rather than by warming up when the rest of me warms up. It wasn’t really working very well as I was so cold. My mum then asked me to show her something, so I did, and in the meantime my dad stole the radiator and refused to let me back on it. He is really bloody childish, and he will do really stupid, immature things that wind me up, and I have a really short temper – I snap very quickly, and then I am furious. So I was freezing cold, pissed off with my mum for making me stand outside for so long, pissed off with my dad for being so stupid and not letting me back on the radiator, and ended up screaming and shouting and pushing both of them, before storming upstairs. Not a terribly mature reaction but I was angry and frustrated, and upset with my mum for not even apologising for leaving me outside for half an hour, and pissed off with my dad for being so bloody immature, and I just got really upset and locked myself in my room and put on my pyjamas and cried. I don’t know why. Sure, I was irritated and frustrated, and grumpy because I was cold and wet, but my reaction was not proportionate to what had happened. I wanted to scream and shout and punch things and hurt myself, which I realise is not a rational reaction to being a bit cold.

I got into bed in my dressing gown and pyjamas and ended up going to sleep for at least 3 hours. I still felt shitty when I woke up – my feet were still like blocks of ice (my circulation really is shit) and I was just in a really bad mood still. My dad wasn’t using his laptop, so I went online for a while and tried to warm up. I went downstairs at about 6 and had calmed down a lot by then. I still wasn’t feeling good, but I was no longer feeling like I would hit anyone who came within 10 feet of me. I think I am still feeling pretty worn out and run down, and maybe that is why I reacted so much, plus of course I do tend to overreact rather. I think doing the show last week did tire me out – for a start it was tiring being out every night, and dancing and performing every night, but I actually think what I found more tiring than performing was being around people so much of the time, and therefore having to put on a happy face and chat and laugh, even when I wasn’t feeling good. I really do find that exhausting, and even though I was around people I liked and got on well with, I wouldn’t have been comfortable enough to let my mask slip. A couple of people last week said how confident I am, and actually I got quite irritated at one point, as I don’t like curtain calls because you just have to stand there, not in character, and smile and bow etc, and it makes me feel very vulnerable – when I am on stage in character it is fine, but as soon as I have to stand there as me I am very uncomfortable, and I mentioned to someone that I don’t like curtain calls because I am not very confident and so they make me feel awkward, and she said that I was wrong and I am very confident, and it actually really pissed me off. I don’t even know her well – it was someone I had fairly little to do with, as she was one of the make up people and I do my own make up – I just chatted to her in the green room a little, and I hate that people make assumptions like that. I know it is natural to build up a picture of how you see someone, but it annoyed me that she thought she knew me better from meeting me about 3 times than I know myself. Surely if someone says something about themselves you don’t contradict them?! Other people mentioned me being confident, but that didn’t annoy me, as they just mentioned it in conversation – I hadn’t specifically told them I am not confident and been told I was wrong like I was with her.

My sister is singing in a concert on Saturday. I haven’t decided yet whether or not to go. I don’t particularly want to, as I would actually rather stay in and watch crap TV like X Factor, and just chill out, as I feel like I have been out so much lately. There is also an element of not wanting to go because she didn’t bother coming to see the show that I was in, so why should I go and see a concert she is singing in, which is pretty childish, but it does hurt me that she never makes any effort. I know she would like me to go, and will probably expect me to go, as I know quite a few people who sing in that choir, and was actually asked to do a reading at this concert myself, but I am just feeling a bit petty about the whole thing at the moment. I don’t know – I will see how I feel later in the week. My back is still hurting, and my hips are still in seized up mode. I am hoping it will all start to relax a bit by the end of the week, as I am not doing anthing. My ulcers are also still very sore. It hurts to talk, and eating is really painful. I think I just need more sleep and more rest, and hopefully then I will also get less grumpy and less emotional.

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>4 hours?!

>I am tired, but for some reason I don’t feel like sleeping. I don’t know why because I love sleep. Sleep is fantastic, because you don’t have to think, you don’t know what is going on, and unless you are dreaming, it is just nothing. I like that. I hate waking up. When you wake up you know that you have the whole day ahead of you, whereas when you go to sleep you can have 10 hours of nothingness.

I didn’t have to look after my nephew earlier, so that was a result. I do have to do it all other Thursdays for the forseeable future though, which is pretty shit. My next door neighbour collected him today, and then kept him – I am not sure where they went. She said something about going to the churchyard and reading grave stones. My next door neighbour is pretty random. They are moving away next Thursday, which is very sad. My next door neighbour is great. She is totally crazy, but not in any diagnosable, mental health type way. She is just totally eccentric. She is like a crazy old cat lady, except she is only in her early 30s and is married. But she does sometimes write us cards from her dogs or cats. She is just generally pretty random. But they are moving. I expect the new neighbours will be boring. They sound boring. And one of my cats will be sad, because he is actually their cat, and so will be moving with them, but he actually lives with us. So he won’t be very happy.

Rehearsal was ok. I didn’t actually have to do that much really. In fact, I didn’t do much at all. Although there was one amusing moment that I was later told about – I was dancing, and the girl playing Julie (my mother in the show) said ‘Awww, look at my baby, I’m so proud!’, and one of the other cast members asked her if I was actually her daughter. I said she would have had to start bloody young, as she is only 5 years older than me! I think most of the cast think I am about 16. People generally do. Although even if I was 16, she would still be far too young to be my mother.

I was in quite a weird mood when I got home. One of my hyper moods that I never know how to describe. I don’t feel good or happy or anything, I just have lots of energy, and tend to talk very fast and very loud, although I don’t realise I am doing either until I get told off. I also talk about absolutely everything (mostly complete drivel) non stop, and generally either dance or bounce, depending on whether I am standing or sitting. So yes, I spent an hour or so irritating my mum, and then came upstairs when she went to bed. That was 4 hours ago though. I have absolutely no idea where the last 4 hours have gone. I haven’t read or watched the television. I have talked a bit online, and looked at a couple of websites, but I am sure not 4 hours worth. Maybe 1 hours worth. Possibly 2 at a push. Not 4. Hmmm, that’s a bit strange. I hadn’t realised the time until I just looked. I am suprised it is so late. I thought it was about half 1, maybe 2, and it is half 3. Why does time either go incredibly slowly, so that 7 minutes feel like an hour, or just suddenly disappear and you don’t know where it went? Strange stuff.

I think I need to sleep now. I am very tired. Which is explained by it being half 3 in the morning I suppose. I hope I sleep all morning tomorrow and wake up very late. Then the day will be shorter, and I do like short days.

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>Bit hyper

>Hmph. I have way more energy than is appropriate for 1AM. Not sure what to do with myself. I have to be quiet because my parents are in bed but I don’t feel like being quiet. My mum has only just gone to bed. She told me off for being too noisy when my dad was in bed though. I was doing high kicks in her bedroom and then doing backstroke on her bed. Very quietly, but too noisily apparently. I got her to do a wheelbarrow race with me earlier. Well not a race because there was only 2 of us. Just a wheelbarrow walk really. We didn’t get far though. When I was the wheelbarrow we went slowly across the lounge but we did move, until I collapsed from laughing. She said we wouldn’t win any races, so I said she could have a go, and she couldn’t move at all, so that was even funnier. Therefore I won. My dad got back from Glastonbury very early this morning. Well, still last night to me because I hadn’t been to sleep yet. He bought a mouth organ when he was there. Very random. I had a go on it earlier. Mouth organs are good because even if you have never played one before you sound like you know what you are doing. I walked the dog with my mum this evening. Not very far – she takes him for his long walk in the morning and a shorter one in the evening. One of the cats came with us for the first 10 minutes, which was quite random. He just trotted along over the fields with us. Strange cat. Watched Murray’s Wimbledon match earlier. Am hoping he does well, particularly after the fiasco that was the football. That was so shit I don’t even want to think about it. Let’s focus on the tennis instead. I wish it wasn’t the middle of the night. I want to shout or something. I am a bit hyper this evening. Don’t know why. Have felt like complete shit all day. Still do. I didn’t go to ballet earlier. I couldn’t be bothered. Might self harm. I don’t like the combination of feeling shit and hyper at the same time because I never know what to do with myself. I would like to overdose really. Feels like a good idea at the moment. Feels like a good idea most of the time actually, but it is particularly appealing right now. But I can’t before the funeral really. It wouldn’t be fair on my parents. Although on the other hand maybe it wouldn’t make any difference to them when I did it. At least I wouldn’t have to be here for my birthday then. That would be good. Ho hum. I might go and make some cupcakes. I wonder if that would be too noisy. Probably. And I would only eat them and then feel shit about myself and gain weight. I feel like screaming. But that would definitely be too noisy.

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>Rollercoaster day

>This is ridiculous. My moods are so all over the place. Earlier on today I was really hyper – I was bouncing around and giggling, and generally being a pain in the arse and irritating my parents. Tonight I have been crying hysterically. I think my weird hyper mood started last night. I woke my dad up in the middle of the night because I was laughing my head off. He was fairly unimpressed. And then when I woke up today I was still in a weird mood. That probably lasted until early evening, and then my mood started to dip. I think it was largely because my mum had a friend over, which was fine in itself, but because of that dinner was weird – there was just all kind of nibbly foods all over the table when I went downstairs, like slices of pizza, and french bread, and lots of stuff I ignored because I don’t like it, and lettuce, and cheese etc. Food being unstructured like that bothers me. I had some food, and then we took the dogs out for a walk (she had brought her dog over), and then when we got back there were little chocolate eclairs for dessert, and then later in the evening my mum got out cheese and crackers and crisps. By that time I thought fuck it, I have already ruined the day, so proceeded to have another slice of pizza, and a cracker with some cheese, and tonnes of crisps. And then I felt full and sick, and desperately wanted to purge, but couldn’t. And then I just snapped. I burst into tears and lay on the floor crying totally hysterically, and just got more and more upset and told my mum that I hated myself and I was greedy and disgusting and I wanted to die. Way to spoil the evening for everyone. That was about an hour and a half ago now, and I have been crying most of the time since. I feel like absolute shit and I desperately want to hurt myself. I want to kill myself really, but if I am not going to do that I feel like I need to punish myself in some way for being such a disgusting pig. My dad kept telling me I was supposed to be on a diet, but I still kept eating. And now I will have gained a tonne of weight tomorrow and I can’t fucking cope with that. My parents tried to tell me that everyone has days where they eat too much, and they just eat less the next day, but all I could think is that I have spent all bloody week desperately trying to lose weight, and now I have fucked up the whole thing by being so bloody weak and pathetic today. I just hate myself so much. I really want to cut, but my mum will be angry with me if she notices, and she is sure to notice at some point. I just feel so broken. I hate that food can have such control over me – that eating too much is enough to make me want to die. But it is. I just feel so terrible now. I hate myself so much. Everything feels so hard at the moment. It is like I am walking along a tightrope, and it is scarily easy to lose my balance and go plummeting down.

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