Posts Tagged ‘N’


>I’m not really sure what to say. I am feeling bad. I saw L this morning. It was fine, but I just felt completely numb throughout it really. I am having trouble to really concentrate and think properly. There is also some not great news that I could have done without at the moment – I am going to have to switch from seeing her weekly to fortnightly. She is having to cut down on her hours for personal reasons, which means that some people are being switched to other care coordinators, and then some people that she has been seeing fortnightly will be switched to monthly, and those like me who were being seen weekly are being switched to fortnightly. I understand why it is necessary, but that doesn’t make it any easier, particularly when I am feeling as terrible as I have been lately, and now am supposed to get through the next two weeks alone. I can’t help comparing the support I have now, with what I was getting this time last year – last year I was seeing L weekly, and then also my old support worker N weekly for a couple of hours, and my psychiatrist Dr E monthly. I am now reduced to seeing L fortnightly. If this was due to an improvement in how I was doing then that would be great, but it isn’t – it is unfortunately almost entirely due to staff circumstances.

N’s job was cut due to funding issues – she was only on a one year contract with MIND and was then seconded to the CMHT, but MIND had their funding cut, and so her contract was not renewed, so there was no longer a support worker for me to see. That didn’t bother me too much – I liked her, but I didn’t have any attachment issues with her, and although sometimes it was nice to get out the house with her etc, it wasn’t too difficult to stop seeing her as I still had L, who was my main source of support. My psychiatrist stopped seeing me because she had stopped all of my medications except my PRN Diazepam, which meant that she no longer felt like it was necessary to see me. Again, I didn’t really have an issue with that as 15 minutes every month or two with her never felt particularly helpful, and I didn’t really feel like she listened to me much. Now my contact with L is being cut because of her circumstances, which is really difficult, as essentially that hour or so a week I spend with her is the only time all week that I feel able to actually be honest about how I am feeling, and can be around someone without feeling a need to put on a front and pretend everything is fine.

Throughout my appointment I couldn’t stop thinking how much I wanted to die, and how I desperately didn’t still want to be alive in 2 weeks, and also what a long way away that felt, and how was I possibly meant to get through that on my own. I just felt like sitting there and crying my eyes out, but I didn’t want to make her feel guilty about something that isn’t her fault and that she can’t do anything about. When I left I wanted to burst into tears but I couldn’t because I was then in the car with my mum and a) she wouldn’t have understood why only seeing L fortnightly was such a big deal, and b) I don’t like showing emotion like that – I have never been good at it, and I just feel awkward and uncomfortable. I am on my own now but I just feel numb.

I have been really struggling with my weight and eating lately. Whenever my mood goes down I get increasingly fixated on my weight, and since it is post Christmas that isn’t really helping at the moment. I gained a couple of pounds over Christmas, which I was expecting and so could kind of accept. But now Christmas is all over, and I am still struggling with it. I always find that when I start eating more often, like I was over Christmas, I find it more difficult to go back to my usual eating patterns, and that is the only way that I am ever able to control my weight. It doesn’t help that I still have some chocolates left over from Christmas that I am working my way through, but it is more than that – I am just eating more generally than I feel comfortable with. On Saturday I was back down to my pre-Christmas weight (which is still higher than I was to be), but then Saturday and Sunday I ate too much, and so gained a pound, and expect I have gained even more as I ate a lot yesterday, but I haven’t weighed today because I had to be up early to go and see L, and I have particular times I will weigh myself. But my middle of the night weight last night was considerably higher than the night before, and that is generally a fairly accurate indicator. I feel disgusting. I hate myself for being so greedy. And yet I feel so shit, and food is somehow comforting, despite being distressing at the same time. So I am comfort eating I suppose, and yet not even remotely comforting because it makes me feel shit. I don’t know. I am just desperate I suppose, and in a way it feels like I may as well eat whatever the hell I want, because it isn’t going to matter anyway if I am dead.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I am doing. I don’t know how to cope with things. I don’t know how I am expected to get through my life with one hour of support every two weeks. I don’t even feel like I want to at the moment. I feel like such a fucking mess, and I am bloody exhausted.

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>Since I have taken quite a few Zopiclone lately I decided I needed more to replenish my supplies, and so that I would have some to take to help me sleep. I rung my GP surgery yesterday. Dr O doesn’t work on a tuesday, which I thought was probably a good thing as she was unlikely to give me any. I asked to speak to a different GP, who I have known for years, but don’t ever see because I used to know him outside of the GP/patient relationship, and so feel a bit awkward talking to him about my mental health problems, plus I am more comfortable talking to women. Anyway, I thought I would be able to get him to prescribe some Zopiclone. When I rung they said he was out on home visits and they would ask him to call me before afternoon surgery. He didn’t ring back, I didn’t know why. I got a call from Dr O earlier today saying that the Dr hadn’t got the message to call me yesterday, so she was calling. I asked her about the Zopiclone, and somewhat suprisingly she agreed. She said she would give me 14 tablets, and to take one every other night so they would last a month. Since I need at least 2 to get any effect I thought they would probably last about a week, if that, but I decided not to push my luck and ask for more. But she then said she would want my mum to pick them up and dispense them because she didn’t trust me with them. I said that would be difficult because it would be hard for my mum to get to the pharmacy to pick them up, and I could pick them up that afternoon when I was with N. She asked me to promise that I wouldn’t overdose on them and said she was giving them to me to help on and not so that I could overdose on them, and that she would be really upset if I did that. I said I wouldn’t and that I just wanted to get some sleep. I justified this in my head by thinking that I wouldn’t use *these* Zopiclone to OD on, I would use the old ones, and I would just use these ones to get some sleep. Probably.

This afternoon I had my last ever appointment with N. I was seeing her at 2 and she hadn’t booked in anyone else for the afternoon so that we had a few hours. We went to a different town and wandered around the shops and that sat in Cafe Nero for a little while. On the way home I decided to pick up my prescription. I went into the pharmacy and asked for it, and the pharmacist stood looking at the script for a minute and then came over, looking a little awkward, and showed me a note that the GP had written on the script saying that it was only to be dispensed to my mum. He said he wasn’t really sure what to do as he wasn’t used to getting notes like that on prescriptions and would my mum be able to pick it up. I was fuming inside, and felt like a complete tit, but just said that my mum wouldn’t be able to get it today but that hopefully she would be able to get it tomorrow. It was a very awkward situation. I was embarrassed – I am 23 years old and I wasn’t allowed to pick up my own prescription, and he seemed embarrassed that it said not to give it to me. I underestimated my GP. I thought I had managed to persuade her that it was all fine, and I clearly hadn’t – she obviously wasn’t fooled. Dr O – 1, Bip – 0. I then had to go back to the car and tell N that I hadn’t been able to get my prescription. Tried to fob her off by saying it was a long story, but she asked why not so I then had to explain that my GP had written a note saying that my mum should pick them up. She seemed slightly confused and asked if my GP thought I was that at risk or if this was a regular thing, and I just said I didn’t know.

I am annoyed. Now I don’t get my Zopiclone how I want them. Unless I can persuade my mum to give them to me. Which I doubt will work. I get pissed off when my plans don’t work out right.

N dropped me off and I said goodbye to her, and gave her a card I had bought for her. I do feel a bit sad that I won’t be seeing her anymore, but I have had other endings that have been much more difficult and emotional. I suppose I know I still have L, and it is her that I really rely on, and who is my main support, and yes, who I am attached to. I am seeing her tomorrow. She is taking me to have a look at the housing that I talked about before. I guess at least then I will know what it is like, and be in a better position to judge if it is something I am at all interested in or not. She said she would pick me up just before 10. I said she was cruel and that I will still be unconscious. She said she was looking forward to seeing me bright eyed and bushy tailed. No chance! I am going to attempt not to mention the Zopiclone fiasco to her – I am not sure that she would be pleased I have managed to get more, as she knows that I have some and that I have been taking it fairly liberally.

Election day tomorrow! Come on the Greens! Really hoping the Tories don’t get a majority. I think it is unlikely, but I am slightly concerned…

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>The weekend

>It’s been a hard weekend. Friday night was the worst. The Zopiclone saturday night made that night slightly easier to cope with. Last night was hard. I really wanted to OD. The lovely Em was enormously supportive and spent the night chatting with me on MSN until about half 4 this morning. She was fantastic, and I honestly don’t know if I would have got through last night without her. I am really hoping tonight will be slightly easier. The nights I find worst are the ones when I know I would have a long time before anyone would find me, because those are the ones an OD would be most likely to work. I am seeing L tomorrow morning, and my mum has tuesday mornings off work, so a monday night would be an unlikely night for me to take an OD, as there would be less chance of it working than if I did it a different night. And if I know I can’t do it, then hopefully I can think about it less too. That is the theory anyway. It works to some extent.

Today was a bit stressful. Lots of family over, and I find that hard. Just too much noise and too many people, and I ended up with a headache all afternoon/evening. I don’t like having people over really. It’s ok for about half an hour and then I want them to go.

Anyway, yes, I am seeing L tomorrow. I also have a stupid rehearsal in the evening. I am seeing N on wednesday. That will be my last appointment with her as this is her last week. Then I have a ballet class wednesday night. Thursday I am seeing L again. Thinking about the next few days stresses me. It would be very difficult to find any night that I see as a potential OD night, and that makes me feel trapped. I am still just having such strong suicidal thoughts. They are getting stronger if anything, and I just don’t know what to do except give in to them. I have tried fighting them, and things aren’t getting any easier at all. So maybe now it is time to give in to them.

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>My week so far: Part 1

>Hmm, update on the week. It has ended up so long that I have split it into 2 posts. The week so far is in this post, and today’s appointment with L is in the second post.

I suppose the good news is it is passing. The week that is. The even better news is that tomorrow is thursday, and after thursday there are 2 whole days where I don’t have to leave the house. That probably shouldn’t please me as much as it does. I am used to leaving the house maybe 3 times a week. I am having to do a lot more than that at the moment, and I think it is maybe one of the reasons why I am so exhausted all the time. Along with the terrible sleeping of course. And the constant mind whirring. And the stress of having to make a decision about something 3 months in the future.

Anyway, so far it has all happened according to plan, even if I have felt like utter shit the entire time. Monday I made us late enough that we only had time to drop in to see my niece for 20 minutes before I had to go to my ballet class. Yeah, I am a shit aunt for not wanting to spend more time with my niece, but I was exhausted and I didn’t want to leave the house. I said to my mum that I wasn’t going to go to my ballet class, but she said I had to go with her to see my niece even if I didn’t go to the class, so I figured I may as well go, as at least if I was in a dance class I wouldn’t have to be making small talk and pretending to be happy. Took a few Zopiclone monday night in the hope of getting a decent sleep. I feel like 30mg really should knock me out, especially when I haven’t taken Zopiclone for 6 months (apart from the week before when I also took about that much one night). Unfortunately it doesn’t. It just puts me in that drunk like state where I do things and then don’t remember doing them. Like emailing L I discovered in my appointment today. Luckily I didn’t say anything too ridiculous in it. But it was a bit weird when she brought it up and I had absolutely no recollection of it whatsoever – I had no idea what she was talking about.

Anyway, onto tuesday. That was yesterday. That was the rehearsal. Felt terrible. Feel like I am shit in the play. Don’t even like the play. Feel way way too uncomfortable with my body to be happy with taking my top off in the play. Normally it wouldn’t actually bother me too much, as although I hate my body I figure everyone wears bikinis on the beach etc, and so being in a bra with a clothed bottom half shouldn’t be a big deal. That was my thinking when I agreed to do the part. That, and that I would lose a considerable ammount of weight. The losing weight hasn’t happened. I am the heaviest I have been for several years. And in 2 weeks I am going to be taking my top off on stage. Fucking fantastic. Oh, and did I mention it is also entered in a drama festival so I will have to do it all again a few weeks later? Good good. Plus I can’t learn my fucking lines. I don’t have the concentration to look at a magazine, let alone learn lines. And this frustrates me a lot, because I have always had a brilliant memory for learning lines – I used to just be able to read a script through a couple of times and I would know it. I learnt my (large) role in a full length musical overnight once. And it never used to take me more than a week to learn a part, even if I was the lead. Now I can’t learn what is basically 1 scene of dialogue. I am useless. Got to go and have the photos done tomorrow night for the newspapers. At least it won’t take long.

Today went slightly wrong. L was supposed to be coming and seeing me here at half 10, then taking me into the town to see N at 12, who would then bring me back home after an hour or 2. Had a phone call from L at 10 saying that she needed to do an assessment at 11, and so could I see them the other way around instead, and that N would pick me up at half 11, and then drop me to see L at half 12, who would then drop me back home. I said that was fine. It was giving me less time with N than I usually get, but I didn’t particularly care. N turned up 25 minutes late, meaning there was only 35 minutes until I was due to see L. I don’t know why she is always late but she is. She had been there with L when L had changed the arrangement, so it isn’t like she didn’t know. But anyway. She asked if I wanted to go to Costa. I said there wasn’t really time as by the time we were at the town I was due to see L in 15 minutes. So we just sat in the car for quarter of an hour.

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>I have too much over the next few days that I have to do. There isn’t too much I can get out of either. Basically I have ballet lessons on mondays and wednesdays every week, which I sometimes skip, but I generally try and make myself go to however bad I feel. I have the advantage of knowing the syllabus so well that I can pretty much do the class on auto pilot, but because it is pretty much the only time I leave the house apart from for appointments I try to go. Plus if I don’t go I get a lecture from my mum about how good it is for me to go etc, and that ends up being more hard work than going. I am also rehearsing this stupid play, as I have mentioned before. I didn’t go to the rehearsal for that on friday – I emailed the director saying that I was ill. Imagine my delight when I got an answerphone message yesterday saying that they had decided to schedule an extra rehearsal for today (sunday). I called and said I was still ill. However, I really can’t get out of any more. So far my week is looking like this. Everything is in the evenings unless I say otherwise, so I do at least have all day to flounder in bed, but I find it such an effort to leave the house because it involves putting on such a big act continuously, and that is draining, which isn’t good when I am already exhausted.

Monday – Ballet class. However, it is also my niece’s birthday, and she lives in the same town where I dance, so my mum wants us to go and see her for an hour before my class. Considering I wasn’t even planning to go to the class, this is far from ideal.
Tuesday – Rehearsal. Regretting getting involved with this play more and more.
Wednesday – Appointment with L at 10:30, followed by N at 12. Then ballet class in the evening. Not terribly happy that all my support for the week is happening within 3 hours, as that leaves me the rest of the week with nothing. I usually see L on a tuesday, but she couldn’t do tuesday this week.
Thursday – Photo session for the newspaper for the play. Will at least be short, but will involve putting effort into my appearance which takes too much effort.

I also have to decide this week for sure about this course in America, as the deadline for the (non refundable) deposit is this week. I am really not in the best frame of mind to be making decisions about my future, when at the moment I don’t want one. The obvious choice would be to back out of that, which I could easily do. Particularly as when accepted I told myself I would only go if I had lost some weight by the time I had to pay. Which I haven’t. But if I am alive in August, and doing a bit better and could have coped with it then I will be furious with myself. And even if I’m not it will become yet another thing added to my list of things to beat myself up about. Another time when I have intended to do something and then not been able to do it. Another failure.

I am feeling so overwhelmed. I am still having really strong suicidal thoughts and images etc – they aren’t getting any weaker. I still can’t concentrate on anything at all to distract myself. My sleep is awful and I am constantly exhausted. I had a shower and washed my hair this afternoon, as I was getting pretty disgusting to be honest, and I felt like I had run the marathon afterwards. So how am I supposed to get through the activities of the next few days? I feel pathetic. I know it looks like nothing to people who go out to work every day, or are in education, or just have really busy schedules, but it as about as full as my schedule tends to get, and it couldn’t be a worse time for it. I will possibly scream if anyone suggests that the distraction will be good for me. If I was doing a bit better then that would possibly be true. But when I feel like this I just find it incredibly stressful, and I don’t get distracted, I just get desperate. I want to scream anyway actually. And cry. But I am numb still. I just can’t cope.

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>Appointments today

>So I had 2 appointments today. First with N, and then one with Dr E and L. When N arrived we stayed here for a little while and then went to the town. We were planning to go into Costa but I didn’t want to be around people so we just sat in the car.

Then I had my appointment with Dr E and L. Again, I can only remember bits of it – I was kind of drifting in and out. They asked what the hardest thing was at the moment, and I said the suicidal thoughts and how I couldn’t get a break from them because of not having the concentration to do anything, and so I couldn’t distract myself. Dr E asked some questions that I can’t really remember, I just know I couldn’t answer. Things about seeing L, and what was helping and what I was learning etc. She also asked why things are so bad at the moment, and what was causing it. I said I didn’t know. She asked if it was because N is leaving. I said no. L mentioned that a while back I jokingly said that I was cursed because everyone that I see ends up going off sick long term, or leaving. Dr E really latched onto this and said I was feeling like this because of N leaving. I said I really didn’t think it was. She said it was and that I was feeling rejected and abandoned. I didn’t have the energy to argue so I just didn’t say anything more about it. For the record I really do not think it has anything to do with N leaving. If L was leaving then absolutely, I would be a mess, but although I like N I do not feel attached to her, and whilst it is a shame she is leaving I am not upset about it.

They asked what would be helpful. L asked if it would help if she called me every day. I was very honest and said that I was feeling so suicidal that I really couldn’t imagine not killing myself and that I couldn’t even make myself think about tomorrow or next week as in my mind they don’t exist. L said she would ring tomorrow. Dr E told me I needed to distract myself, which made me wonder if she had heard anything I had said earlier on in the appointment. She told me to go for a walk, which made me laugh hysterically for no real reason, which turned into crying. She kept saying that they understood how hard it was, and that they were there to support me, which whilst well meaning, came across as rather patronising given that I haven’t seen her since January, and therefore she isn’t really a source of support for me. L saying that would be fine, as she actually does support me, but it just seemed a bit trite coming from someone I haven’t seen for 3 months. She also gave me the usual speech about what a talented, intelligent girl I am, and what a shame it was to see me like this. I never find that a helpful comment, and it baffles me when people who have never seen me perform say that I am talented. I said that I was completely exhausted and I just need to make everything stop.

There was no mention of medication, so I am assuming that L had already spoken to Dr E about that before I saw them and that Dr E had vetoed that idea. So overall it was much as I had expected really. I was particularly useless and bad at speaking, and whilst what I have written here is the jist of what I said, it was rather more confused and muttered with the odd staring into space and having to be brought back to earth to continue what I was saying etc. But at least I have been completely honest about my suicidal intent, so nobody can say I should have told someone how I was feeling or anything, as I clearly have done so.

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>Tiring day

>N arrived to see me about 1, as planned. We went to the local town, about 15 mins away, that we usually go to. I needed to pick up a prescription, but got there 2 minutes after the pharmacy part of Boots had closed for lunch, so we needed to kill an hour. Went into Costa. Had a drink, and a cupcake which I threw up in the toilets. Talked a little bit about how I was feeling, but not that much. It more or less consisted of yes, I am still feeling really shit. Yes, my sleep is still dreadful. Yes, I am having suicidal thoughts. She didn’t ask me anything about the suicidal thoughts, ie whether I had a plan or was likely to act on them or anything, so I didn’t say. Saved the whole A&E debacle that I am sure would have been inevitable if I had talked about that. Got prescription, she dropped me home. I was really tired from not enough sleep last night, and was planning to go back to bed for a nap.

Got home. Was locked out of the house. I don’t carry a key around because I lose keys. We live in the middle of nowhere and pretty much never lock our back door. My dad had locked it this morning. That shouldn’t have been a problem though, as we always keep a key in a hidden place, for cases such as this. The key wasn’t there. Phoned my mum, apparently she had lost it a couple of weeks ago. Phoned my dad. He said he wouldn’t be able to get home until about half 5 at the earliest. This was at about 2:45. My next door neighbour was out so I couldn’t even go around there. I was already feeling shit and wishing I hadn’t got out of bed before I even got home, so not being able to get into the house was the last straw. I sat on the front step and sobbed. Tried to call my sister (who lives in the town I had just been in with N) as I thought she might have a key. Couldn’t get hold of her. After about half an hour she called back. She didn’t have a key, but was out with my next door neighbour and was only about 5 minutes away, and could take me back to her house until my dad got back from work. Another half hour later she turned up and took me back to hers. So I had had a lovely hour sitting on the front step. Typically I didn’t even have my ipod or a book in my bag, so the vast majority of that time was spent crying and thinking about killing myself. I was cold and tired and pissed off.

My sister picked me up and took me back to hers. As well as her 2 boys, she has my niece staying with her, so there were 3 children under the age of 5 in the house, so it was rather chaotic, which I could have done without. At about 5:30 I remembered that I had to be back in this town at 7:30 for a rehearsal for the play that I have already mentioned not wanting to be in. I called my dad and said it obviously wasn’t worth him picking me up at 6, for us to have less than an hour at home before needing to leave for the rehearsal so I would stay at my sisters. After attempting, and failing, to feed my 6 month old nephew his dinner I decided I had really had enough and said I was going to go and have a lie down. Had a nap for about half an hour. Then had to go off to the rehearsal.

Can anyone please come up with a reason, any reason at all, why I would have agreed to play a part that involves taking my top off on stage in an attempt to give another character an erection?! No, nor can I. I can’t even look at myself in a mirror because I find my body so repulsive. So this play was a real stroke of genius on my part.

Finally got home at about 10, having been out for 9 hours. I feel like shit. I have really strong urges to hurt myself. No, not hurt myself, kill myself. Keep thinking that my mum won’t be home until mid afternoon tomorrow, so if I took an overdose now, I would have 14 hours or so before anyone found me. Trying to tell myself that the same would apply most days – although my mum would usually be here, there would be no reason for her to come in my room, so I would have a clear 12 hours or so any night. I just want to do it now though. I am so exhausted. I really can’t keep going like this. I was talking online to a friend earlier, and she was saying about fighting the thoughts etc, and I just thought about how long I have been doing that for (or trying to – there have been a few attempts along the way). I have felt like this for so long. I have wanted to die for years now, with no real breaks in that feeling. Ok, there have been times that have been better than others, and times when it has been easier to cope with, but I doubt very much if there has been any point in say the last 5 years, when given the choice between living and dying (without hurting people), I would have chosen living. I realise that the not hurting people caveat is not something I can control, and is the sole reason why I haven’t just continuously acted on these thoughts until it has worked. But I just feel like I have been having to deal with these thoughts for so long, and I just can’t fucking do it. Actually, that isn’t true. I could. But I don’t want to.

Not sure quite what to do now. I really want to just give in to the thoughts. But part of me feels like I owe it to the people that care about me to tell someone, ie a professional, not a friend, just how bad things are before I act on it. I suppose ask for help one last time. But if they can’t suggest anything helpful, and just tell me to try and distract myself and tell me how well I am doing, then fine, I can do whatever the fuck I want. I can act on the thoughts without feeling guilty about it, because I will have done everything I can. Oh, but I refuse to go to A&E, because I have done that many a time, and I can think of better things to do with 5 hours than sit around there and then be patronised by the crisis team. Does that sound fair?

Interesting fact for the day – I was looking over my blog statistics. My absolute favourite google search that has lead someone to my blog is ‘BPD crazed rant’.

I have already changed my mind about the being honest thing. There is nobody I trust enough to be that honest with apart from L, and she isn’t back until next week. I can’t tell some random person at the CMHT. I have had too many shit experiences in the past, of being made to go to A&E, and having the police sent round etc. I can’t do it.

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