Three Unrelated Paragraphs

I spent this weekend not sleeping and not doing anything productive. My major script workshop is on Wednesday and I’ve written zero words! I think it’ll be okay though, it’s almost finished in my head, the actual writing part is trivial yeah? Rico is earning his keep, he has so far destroyed one blind, one window frame and one door frame, but he has also prevented one overdose; well done Rico! He needs a proper groom, I’ve been brushing him regularly but he already had some matted hair on his legs when I got him; he snaps when I go near it, I can’t brush it out because it’s like dreadlocks, I cut a few off but he has obviously had a bad grooming experience, he was shaking, had his tail tucked right in and ran away at any given opportunity. I think once it’s sorted out prevention will be easy enough with a thorough daily brush.

I’ve asked to change small groups, the coordinator is going to work out which ones aren’t full and where I’d fit well and then I’ll give a few a try (if there are a few). No one is happy about my decision to leave my current group but I don’t think it’s going to work for me, I’m too bitter because of my experience on the first week and now when I go I’m looking for things to pick on and expecting to disagree with everything, so of course it happens. Everything in my life is hard, and holding onto faith is perhaps the hardest. I think I’m enduring enough and that maybe taking the easy option here is not such a bad thing.

I’ll be West for a couple of weeks getting looked after by Mummy and Daddy - unless Rico doesn’t like it there, in which case I guess I’ll be there for one night. I’m feeling pretty horrible and very unsafe, I don’t have any fall backs this week because my GP is in Vanuatu, my first psychology appointment is not until the 9^th, I don’t yet have a new psychiatrist and my current one actually has a policy of not taking crisis phone calls, that leaves me with the CAT team to tell me to have a bath instead of overdosing and slicing myself open – thanks! I hope I sleep tonight, my head hurts so much, I’m dizzy and I have goose bumps all over my body, please body, just be kind for a little while.

One Year

Around 10pm tonight it will be one year since my life fell apart, thanks M. This day marked the beginning of one month in hospital, and the many subsequent admissions. I feel awful today but I haven’t shed a tear – they don’t come easily to me. I had a nice brunch and helpful chat with R this afternoon, despite her encouragement and the fear she admitted she holds of my death, I want nothing more than for this all to end. I’d like to say that more than dying I want to get better, but it’s hard to want something you believe to be impossible; I guess that’s what the psychologist is for. I’m going to a party tonight, I’ve been looking forward to it because most people from church will be there, and I haven’t met that many people outside my small group. I don’t want to go in this mood, but it might cheer me up, and I probably shouldn’t be alone tonight.

Rob Me

Shit! I just found 67 valium; I can’t throw them out, does anyone want to come and do it for me? It’s not a lethal dose, but not a small one either. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!

Eight Sentences

• Rico bit some chunks off my living room window frame – I was only out four hours!
• I have a new psychologist, and she’s within 10 minutes of my house, first appointment is 9/6.
• My GP increased Lovan this morning.
• I was going to break my arm last night and cut off a toe this morning – I got over it, probably should have mentioned my desire for 9 toes to GP though. Yes I am crazy, you all know that.
• I can’t sleep – feel awful.
• Should walk Rico, it’s rather wet outside, but maybe if I don’t he’ll eat the washing machine, fridge, couch etc in protest, little bastard!
• Call me and come over if you want to, company would be nice, I’ll try not to be horrible.

Gangsta Broom

I had between 5 – 10 really weird dreams last night. In one of them I was driving to my parents’ late at night and the freeway had an exit I didn’t recognise, I passed it because you don’t normally hop off somewhere unknown, but that was the last exit. The freeway ended about 100m after that, it didn’t turn into another rd as they normally do, instead it was a rocky and muddy cliff which had been the end of many a car. I crashed into one of the others which had met their demise there, then my car changed into what would have been a beautiful sports car in its day, but it was now old and decrepit – I stayed in the car whilst it transformed. I then tried to drive back up the cliff but only one wheel at a time was making contact with the ground, so I had to push it up the cliff – it was surprisingly light. Then I continued driving to my parents’ I had no idea where I was, my brother appeared in the passenger seat and navigated me through the industrial wasteland which is on the way. We never got home.

In another dream I was at L’s house and her dad got home from work in an open top black gangster looking Mercedes – it kind of looked like this but with no roof.

Her dad got to bring a ridiculous car home from work each day just for the fun of it. I wanted to take it for a drive; that was the end of the dream.  There were a few of those annoying realistic dreams which take me a while to work out are dreams – I had to check one of them!

My body is having a hard time with all the drug changes, I can’t stop moving. I only have one oxazepam left, my other sedatives are sleepers – hardly ideal for day time calm and there’s zero chance of my GP giving me more benzodiazepines, I think I’ve got no choice by to pilfer daddy’s.

Saturday is one year since M left me, thankfully I’m going to a party that night and I can probably find someone to keep me company during the day – R, I’m looking at you. It will hurt, but it means it’s time to move on. Snog fest starts Saturday!

The Non-Dragon Story

Some clarification for my dear readers; I didn’t want to go into the details on here until I’d spoken to a couple of friends in person. On Friday I took too much oxazepam, and made three cuts on my wrist, one hitting a vein, I passed out in the hospital waiting room and woke up eight hours later in ED. On Monday I cut my wrist again, opening the same vein, it bled a lot more and scared the crap out of me (I think that’s a good thing) but I worry that I’ll do it again because it didn’t hurt at all and it bled so fast. My GP asked me to start taking Lovan again; I’m currently on the lowest dose – that won’t last. I have to throw away the rest of my sedatives, I almost took the rest tonight but resisted because I’ll lose my friends, I hate being a woman, stupid hormones are responsible for tonight’s mood.

A note for random internet folk who comment on the blog, don’t leave your initial because I’ll think you are trying to make yourself known to me, but not everyone else, then when you leave a nasty comment I’ll think my friends with that initial are responsible – it gets messy.

Interesting Read

Croakey Mental health and the budget: some positive steps, but plenty of sorry gaps too

It's back

I’m currently babysitting S, an almost three year-old who is very busy making play-dough animals. I should be at Bible study, but I’d rather hang with S; and after my behaviour last week they’re probably glad I’m not there!

I wrote a post earlier today but was wise enough not to share it, I think it would have resulted in the loss of 90% of my friendships. I’ve been a big ball of fury this past week; I suppose that will soon come to an end, GP basically forced me to start taking Lovan again, no surprises there given Friday night’s saga and this morning’s “accident”. I wish I had a different psychiatrist, I really need an admission but I’m not going public again, I’d rather risk my impulsivity. It’s 15 days until my next psych appointment, so I’ve got to hold it together until I’ve seen him and he’s had time to handball me – and the new Dr accepted me – it’s probably going to be a month or so before all that happens. Rico is good for me though, gives me some responsibility and constant company, he didn’t get a walk today, it hardly stopped raining, but he’s having an adventure tomorrow. S has hardly made a peep, I think I’ll see if she wants to do something else.

Coffee, Dog and House Work

I slept all day yesterday, woke at 6pm, not knowing if it was am, pm or even pm the following day – fun! Then I slept all night and half the day. In the second half of today I had lunch with parents followed by another frolic in the park with Rico and parents. Now mummy is cleaning my house and daddy is fixing my break lights. I’ve lost my $150 scarf, I’m hoping it’s at the hospital and they haven’t piffed it, I love that scarf, they took my pill box too, I lost the last one there, they’re not getting another!

I have a broken 'n', it's slowing down my typing.

Memory Loss

Another night in ED; I don't remember any of it...

A Job

I’ve been looking at jobs this week, a few have caught my eye but I am definitely not up to working full time and any position I took would have to be under someone understanding enough not to fire me for regular sick days, this is why I’m on the DSP - such jobs are hard to come by. I almost applied for an arts coordinator role at a semi-local council, it was only  three days a week, was a largely creative role with some basic admin thrown in, but they ideally wanted someone with disabled youth experience. I’m not the most patient person you’ll ever come across, this (along with the fact that I don’t want to) is why I’m not going to be a teacher, a lot of people from my undergrad go on to teaching, at least that way you can get an okay income from doing something at least slightly related to your field of interest – I’d rather be fully immersed in my interest and forget the politics of education and kids who don’t want to be there. I’d lecture, take workshops etc at uni, but that’s different because (hopefully) they’re there because they’ve passed an audition so have some talent and a desire to learn. It would be nice if I could motivate myself enough to do four subjects at a time, power through my masters and then start my life as a writer/director and lecturer (if I have to lecture for the money which I probably will unless pop culture suddenly changes to align with my interests).

So if you come across any part time jobs which would suit a drama graduate part way through her MA (writing), do let me know. Understanding employer a must!  

This is the first day since quitting the meds I’ve seriously thought about going back on them. I’m feeling more violent – I haven’t acted on it, but it’s simmering away and I'm just generally down. I’m down to my last 13 Oxazepam after taking three tonight, sedation feels good, oxaz is all I’ve got to fall back on, might have to start stealing daddy’s valium...

Day Seven

Daddy put in a dog door today, this means that tonight I won’t have to keep getting up to let Mr Rico out. I was already having trouble sleeping last night and when I finally drifted off he decided it was time to go out, eventually I got back to sleep only to be woken again, and then again by my house mate leaving for work – I didn’t get back to sleep that time. It is currently 5:04pm, I think I’ll be in bed within two hours and I’m not getting up for anyone, even a beautiful cocker spaniel. Today we went out for coffee with R and S (S is two and a bit – well nearly three actually) After coffee we went to a park with autumn leaves everywhere and the four of us ran, had leaf showers and general fun. Everyone loves Rico, strangers pat him and coo over him, thankfully I’m not in an “I hate everyone” stage – maybe so many friendly strangers will help me get over that.

GP wasn’t annoyed, a little concerned, but happy to let me continue without meds; I told her the whole truth, but since my plan backfired that’s okay. She was more concerned that I hadn’t contacted the new psychologist yet – I have to get on that because GP is having a week off soon and I’m not going to have any support while she’s gone, which will coincide with Lovan being completely out of my system. I was wrong about it only sticking around for a few days – that’s the half life, but there are traces floating around for two weeks. The hospital I’m doing DBT at called today to say that I can probably see one of their female psychiatrists, but rather than using a new referral from my GP they want my current psychiatrist to handball me, that means I have to see him at least one more time, be assertive and hope he doesn’t give me to someone else who doesn’t admit.

Day Six

I am the alpha dog!

I haven’t enrolled in dog training yet, but I’m implementing a few strategies using the Alpha dog method. Rico has a bit of food aggression and I’d like to get rid of it rather than avoiding him when he’s eating or munching on a bone. Starting this morning I’ve been making sure he sees me eat before him and then sitting with him, asking him to sit and then putting small handfuls of dry food in his bowl, patting him whilst he eats, when he finishes each small handful he is asked to sit again and gets another if he obeys; he got used to it very quickly and is already showing improvement. He doesn’t get to sleep on my bed anymore because the alpha dog gets the best sleeping spot and doesn’t share, I still let him in my room but he has his own bed. He also has to walk behind or beside me on the lead and sit before passing through a door – and I get to go first. I don’t like not letting him have a roam about on the lead (I’ve got a 5m retractable one) but that’s only temporary until he knows I’m the boss. I liked having him on my bed, but he is much bigger than Lester and I think I’d like the freedom to roll over if I so desire.

I wrote one scene last night and another tonight, they took less than an hour each and I can’t tell if they’re any good. I can pick the quality of other peoples work, but I think whatever mark I get for my work will always come as a surprise. I’ll submit both of them tomorrow and hope they scrape a distinction – I need at least distinction average for my first six subjects.

GP in the morning, I don’t think she’ll be happy with my Lovan abandonment but she’ll be glad I’m off Seroquel. A friend pointed out to me today that I risk losing her support by stopping the meds, I hadn’t thought of that, but I’m willing to start taking them again if she really wants me to and I don’t have a history of going off meds.

Day Five A

I’ve been getting quite a bit of support for my decision to drop the drugs and I’m a little surprised that after almost a year of reading my blog people still have the idea that psychiatric drugs are either unnecessary or even damaging. My friends who have their own psychiatric problems were rightly concerned by my decision to stop taking my meds and expressed this to me. I haven’t stopped taking them because I don’t think I need them anymore, I stopped because I thought being un-medicated might make it easier to kill myself; it backfired and has me feeling better (minus the headache).

T, a woman I’ve never met is dead by her own hand, and yet it has had an impact on me, it happened the day before I got my rejection from the new psych and meant I no longer had my fallback plan of death. I don’t believe suicide is selfish, but to do it shortly after your friend has lost another friend to it is worse than selfish, it’s a gesture of contempt. Last week my desire to die was stronger than usual, hope was gone and I was facing a continuing battle with this illness without the help I need. In times like that a calm logic says it’s time to die, it’s not anger, it’s not hurt, it’s the most sensible and obvious decision, not doing it feels like the wrong thing. At that point I was stuck, I couldn’t die the day after T and destroy my friend, but I couldn’t sit still in my anguish, continuing to take the drugs which have kept me alive, but not made me better; so I gave up, hoping that I wouldn’t really be responsible for my actions once off the drugs, and that somehow that would make my death less my fault. I just feel trapped now I don’t think recovery is ever going to happen, but my escape route is blocked by my love for my friend and the failure of my plan for increased insanity. My friend knows these feelings all too well and would understand my twisted logic if I died, but she’d hate me for it and I can’t have that.

Day Five

Sore head, mood getting worse, feeling violent.

Rico doesn’t quite get the idea of sleeping by my feet, he snuggled up next to me with his head on the pillow this morning, very cute, but a little odd. 

Day Four A

I might have been wrong about the no side effect bit... I just got back from small group, where I was horrible to anyone who opened their mouth; I usually have differing opinions, but tonight I was out for blood and looking for things to argue with. I also had a strong urge to bite chunks off my body a few hours ago – I didn’t, but I really wanted to. Below are the official side effects I think I relate to, it’s about half of the full list – I haven’t included the other half, so yeah, I think I was a little bit wrong but I still think it’s going well. Aggression, anxiety, balance issues , blurred vision, depersonalization, dizziness, electric shock sensations, fatigue, flu-like symptoms, hostility, highly emotional, irritability, jumpy nerves, lack of coordination, lethargy, migraine headaches / increased headaches, nervousness, severe internal restlessness (akathasia, tremors, troubling thoughts.

Day Four

I’m still quite chirpy, but am feeling a little under the weather, dizziness is starting to settle in and my head doesn’t quite feel like it’s on my shoulders. I’m sleeping well, although I had to get up twice to let Rico out for a wee; how to go about getting a dog door in a rental!? I spent far too much money on him today, but that will be it for a few months. By tomorrow the last of the Lovan will have worked its way out of my system so I might be posting about the elephant stomping on my brain and the stormy ocean which has emerged under my house.

Day Three

I don’t have bipolar, but I may be manic; I like it. I am exhausted after not sleeping very much last night, but I am simultaneously bursting with energy. I’ve been smiling for three days and so far the only withdrawal symptom I have is a headache – which is probably due to lack of sleep, so maybe I don’t have any withdrawals; well apart from the slight mania –

I can’t stop moving. I GOT A DOG!!!!!! His name was Richo but I hate it so I changed it to Rico, I couldn’t change it too much or he wouldn’t recognise it. He is a three year-old black cocker spaniel, his owner has to move and couldn’t take him and so he’s all mine – he’s currently licking my fingers whilst I type.

Rico and his old owner - I'll take photos soon

Church was good tonight, infant baptism – done well I thought, usually they make me feel uneasy, sermon, communion and bagpipes for one song followed by the sating of my lasagne craving at a local restaurant with good company.

Day Two

Last night was the best nights’ sleep I’ve had in weeks, sadly when my alarm went off I just rolled over and went back to sleep which meant I got a call 20 minutes after I was supposed to meet a friend for coffee and rocked up 45 minutes late. At least I had a good sleep, but now I’m a bad friend.

One Lovan tablet this morning and I’ll drop to zero Seroquel tonight because the reduction hasn’t had any affect so far. I think I’ll make this mornings’ Lovan my last – tomorrow I will be free of psychiatric drugs! So far I feel fine, actually quite good. I’m still sitting with self harm urges but I don’t think they’re going to go away any time soon, I’ll just try not to act on all of them.

Well I’m off to get my eyebrows waxed, I don’t like looking this manly.

Day One

Written yesterday, posted today - blogger died.

12.5mg of Seroquel last night, down from 25mg, I actually slept; I got 7 hours over night and a two hour nap yesterday, I feel wide awake today for the first time in weeks. 40mg Lovan this morning, so far I feel fine, but Lovan has a 2-3 day half life, it’ll be floating around my body for a little while yet. Tomorrow I will drop down to 20mg and stay on that for a couple of days before going to nothing. I think I’ll have the same dose of Seroquel tonight and then half it again tomorrow; by Wednesday I hope to only be on Circadin and Yaz. This could easily be a disaster, or it could be brilliant, I wouldn’t be surprised if the only thing to change is the re appearance of my food phobias and I think I can put up with them.

Clean

I am defeated.

I took another step down on my Seroquel tonight, and starting tomorrow I’m going to drop one Lovan tablet a day until I’m down to zero. I forget what life is like medication-free, so I’ll give it a shot for a while. It seems I’m not going to be getting much help from the psychiatrists of Australia so I’m going it alone from here. My GP is trying to help, but she can’t force anyone to take me on.

Here’s to hoping my house is robbed tonight and I’m shot dead in my sleep.

Not For You

I don’t have a new psychiatrist; shit! I cancelled my appointment with crazy psych today so I could comfort a friend – I've got nothing until 7^th June now. I came very close to a train line drive last night, managed to hold back and I’m glad I did, I wouldn't have been the only suicide last night to hurt my friend.

I still can’t sleep, my head hurts, I don’t have a psychologist, I don’t like my psychiatrist and DBT doesn’t start until October or January. I have a long wait and I can’t escape before then because it will destroy my friend. I wonder how long you can stay in an induced coma for, and where one can get hold of the necessary equipment to achieve this.

How to Continue

I'm starting to wonder if being such an open book on this blog is a good idea; it's handy that my friends already know what's going on, so I don't have to tell the same story over and over and we can actually talk about them, but that is also the problem. I need people in my life. I need to be encouraged to get out of bed, leave the house, and to participate in life. I think some of my friends find me a little hard to cope with, and maybe these friendships would be healthier if they didn't know what I'm thinking as much. I don't have a desire for shallow friendships, but other people do, they spread themselves thinly across many relationships and when one becomes too intense they back off. I'd like to think that I don't spend all the time going over my woes during friend dates, it's true that I rarely have anything positive to say, but there's nothing positive to report on. I don't think I'm a happiness black hole, you can be happy around me, I'm not going to feel it with you but I won't take it away; if I think I'm dampening a mood I'll leave, not drag everyone down with me, in some situations this isn't appropriate so I'll try to act the part or camouflage myself into the crowd.

I fear that people are going to know too much about me without actually knowing me. I meet someone, we become facebook friends, they read my blog, maybe that's then the end of their desire to really get to know me, they've already discovered my dirty not-so-secret secret and don't have my personality and fun memories of me to put it into context with, it just stands alone, K – the borderline, anxiety & depression sufferer. K the cutter, K the overdose girl, K the drain on the economy. There is a bit of normality in me, a bit of fun and far too many ideas. I will never be satisfied with lots of shallow friendships, but maybe my friends will never be satisfied with intense K. I'm not going to stop blogging, but give me your opinion; do I make it less personal, more analytical and creative or keep it as is and accept the consequences?

Hurt Me Instead

I just had to share this because it actually made me laugh, and that’s a huge achievement. These are two coping mechanisms for self harm urges taken from the A Safe Place For Cutters blog  Post: Managing Urges Part 3 Releasing Anger, June 21, 2009 http://cutterssafeplace.wordpress.com/page/3/

Feeling: Upset, Frustrated, Depressed, Angry, Creative
Method: Dolly Dearest
Description: Buy a doll from Wal-Mart (or any other store) or make your own out of cloth–just something simple. Now, whenever you feel like self-harm or some other negative behavior, take out the doll. Cut it. Tear the poor things arm off if you have to. Now, here’s the important part. Sew it back up. Focus on the stitches, on making sure that Dolly will hold together. Keep doing this until the urge passes.

Feeling: Angry, Upset, Frustrated, Aggressive
Method: One Dead Bear
Description: Have an old teddy bear laying around that needs a little tough love? Then grab him/her and throw them in the floor. Punch them around. Throw a book, a pencil, a family member (haha) at them until you feel better. Then maybe give the poor guy a little kiss.

The doll one might work for me, I don't think I'd have the heart to abuse a teddy; I'd have many more sleepless nights without the existence of teddies.

This Is Not A Diary

I got some sleep last night! As per the recent pattern I woke up after only three hours, but this time I got back to sleep within one hour and I stayed there for about five hours. I don’t feel amazing, but definitely better than I have all week, hopefully tonight goes well too; I’ve had no caffeine at all today – very hard for me.

  

I called the hospital my possible new psychiatrist consults at and it sounds like she is taking new patients, so hopefully my referral is interesting enough for her, I’ll find out on Monday or Tuesday. I’ve realised this blog is taking on too much of a diary tone, that was never my intention; I’ve just been too messy to write properly in the last few months. I have some creative writing I could publish but I think I’d rather keep it to myself for now. A few months ago I said I was writing an analytical piece on some Croakey articles, that’s about half done, my brain turned to mush and I stopped. So to make up for the diary-ness of late, here’s a dream from last night. My new drug is making dreams more realistic and intense.

A maze like shopping centre, with an adults only food court – despite few of the shops being licensed. My dad knew which of the guards checked ID and took my brother to the door with the lazy guard, they got through but within a minute a middle aged Asian woman approached him and asked for ID, he showed her something on his wrist and she smiled and said not to worry. Dad was gone and Mum, brother and I were in a huge car exiting the labyrinthine car park, presumably of the same shopping centre. Mum caught a glance at my wrist, my sleeve had crept up a little; she was furious and wanted me to cut her nose five times to show me the pain I’m causing her. Shocked, I refused, we argued loudly, after a while I said I’d rather put a big gash in her cheek than five little ones on her nose – she was happy to let me do it but I refused. We argued more and eventually I said I couldn’t hurt the one person who is trying to help me ( a note to my friends, this is a dream, you are all great), I felt embarrassed that I’d told her I need her. End of Dream.

I hope this isn’t’ an insight to my soul, I don’t hold any violent thoughts towards other people. My own self harm urges are becoming increasingly violent, but I’ve never considered hurting anyone else. It’s interesting that I revealed I need my mum, I would never say this aloud, but unlike the violence part I think this might be true... I’m at their house at the moment because I can’t look after myself and it’s been great, I got some sleep in a bed with fresh sheets (I can’t be bothered changing mine), I’ve been able to cuddle Lester, I got fed, I may not love the quality of conversation but there are people to talk to.

Old and New

This was written last night - computer didn't like the internet.

After another mostly sleepless night I find myself at my parents - by choice; I don’t have the energy to feed myself, showering takes a lot of will power and basically I think if I stayed at home in this state I’d die of dehydration on the couch because I couldn’t be bothered getting water - Okay that may be a slight exaggeration, but that’s how I feel. I’m not consciously anxious, but I must be, I’ve been having little panic attacks whilst trying to sleep, I think it’s just anxiety about another sleepless night, which of course is not going to help me.

I haven’t heard if the potential new psychiatrist has accepted me or not, I hope it doesn’t take long I feel like tearing all my skin off because you know there’s a whole new person under there, I just have to get rid of the top layer.

Today included a catch up with an old friend, an attempted nap and a catch up with a not old friend over a great coffee followed by a very unhealthy meal (my third serving of chips this week!) and then an agonising drive out West; things move around in my field of vision at the best of times, they practically dance when I’m like this, making driving quite the adventure.

An Open Letter

You scared me at first, I’d experienced strength near your kind only once before, and really, that isn’t worth a mention as you dwarfed it so. I had no control in those early days, you operated how you pleased whether I liked it or not – I did not. Then you grew on me - quite literally – doubling, doubling again, and again, and again, until you reached ten times what I knew of you in those first days. Despite your new strength you didn’t scare me anymore, I’d grown with you. We were good companions; you’d helped others through rough patches and were just what I needed to get through mine, I don’t know if you got anything out of our time together – I suppose you were able to enjoy your power, that you loved seeing what you could do to me, and then there’s the money, it’s only due to a sneaky not quite true diagnosis that I was able to afford you, the poor Australian tax payer picking up the other $95 – was it fortnightly or monthly? I can’t remember. Bitch! You forced me to sleep and made me eat more than logic should allow; because of you I now have stretch marks where there had never been any and I have a new wardrobe full of size “I’m not telling”. There’s no denying the help you gave me, the many hours of rest I wouldn’t have had without you lulling me to sleep, the relative calm that pursued me throughout the day and the knowledge that if things became too much for me I had you there in your full strength, ready to take me away. It wasn’t my idea to send you away, I hated my extra kilos - and true they fell off me once you’d gone - but your replacement was inadequate, then it gave me a hideous rash. There was no turning back, the decision had been made that we needed to part ways and that’s what was going to happen. I knew I’d miss you so I kept as much of you as I could hoarded in my room; it was inevitable that I’d come back, begging for your might to take me away, and you did, for 20 hours. All that I’d secretly stored is gone, they became stricter in rationing my access to you, and now give me the smallest amount available, soon that will be brutally cut into quarters and reduced one quarter at a time, a few weeks at a time. I don’t sleep anymore, nothing measures up to the power you had over me, there is no lingering calm to help me through the day, but I can see my collar bones again! AstraZeneca, thank you for the time I’ve had with Seroquel; can you please give me some more?

Circadin

I got the last appointment with my GP last night, I’m probably not who she would like to be her final patient for the day – I tend to take a lot of time. She got the honour of explaining nerve damage to me and advising where to avoid cutting, she wrote a silly list of reasons not to take another overdose, and put my arm back together – how on earth am I supposed to keep it dry for a week! I’m going to have a big scar, this makes me sad because I don’t like scars, I just want the temporary sight of flesh and blood, not a lifelong reminder that I’m nuts. I mentioned the overdose – I’m extremely tempted to do it again, which is insane; I hated it, I felt disgusting for a week and it’s very embarrassing calling an ambulance for yourself, yet when I woke up I felt completely different to when I fell asleep, 20 hours had passed and I was a new girl. If I do it again I have two friends who may not speak to me again because I’d be a bad influence on them and I suppose you don’t want to be close to someone who might die. If I do it again, and I wake up I won’t be able to tell anyone. I can’t live without these two friends, they get me, they make time for me and they both really like me – it’s hard for me to believe anyone really likes me, they’re just putting up with me because I’m there. I don’t want to take the overdose and I don’t want to lie, hopefully that’s enough to stop me being impulsive. My GP was playing with the idea of another admission but I was adamant that I’m not going back to my local hospital and definitely not to the other one with the awful psych triage nurse. I hope the new psychiatrist accepts me as a patient, then I have a private hospital I can get into easily; it’s not the most glamorous one around, but at least they have cleaners, the place isn’t falling apart and there are plenty of therapy groups. I understand my current psychiatrists non-admission policy, I can see myself giving up completely and becoming even more of a ghost with a long admission; I’ve already lost most hope of getting better, maybe life would pass quicker and easier if I was contained and highly drugged; but I haven’t lost all hope for recovery, I haven’t killed myself yet, the glimmer of hope and fear of consequences have kept me here. Something has to change; I can’t carry on like this.

I have a new drug – Circadin – to help me sleep, it’s just a massive dose of melatonin in slow release form but hopefully it will start to work, it didn’t do the job last night, three hours sleep and annoyingly realistic dreams, it took me until 2pm this afternoon to work out that several events were in fact dreamt, it’s amusing but very annoying at the same time.

I got a HD for my monologue, sadly he gave me the percentage as well, and so instead of just being happy to have a good grade I was a little sad about the extra 17% I didn’t get. I am thrilled to get that mark for one hour’s work, I just need to remember that I didn’t put in the effort and I still did well. The lecturer explained that I would have done much better if I’d included a little more information about the second character. I’ve never had a perfect score at uni, I wonder if I can manage it on the next task.

Saag

My fingers smell like curry – I ate it in naan with my hands.

My tummy is almost normal again, after only three days on less Lovan.

I went to the party, wine helped me relax and it was actually a little enjoyable.

I went to church tonight, I took a sedative in the first five minutes and then zoned out, not the ideal outcome I know, but at least this week I don’t have a friend and the police here.

No self harm since Thursday, it’s been hard, but I’m trying.

Two scenes to write by Wednesday, I think another extension will be necessary unless I have a repeated stroke of brilliance and can write them both quickly and well the first time.

I nearly adopted a cocker spaniel but someone beat me to him, he was beautiful, young and had the right temperament for me.

Last night I watched Let The Right One In, You, The Living, and Fair Game (although I was reading during that one so don't really know what happened) and today I watched Let Me In (American version of Let The Right One In) and was about to start Inception when I realised it would make me late for church. I know I could do much better things with my time, but when feeling low it is better to be very distracted than very bloody!

Bed time.