Black Dog

I got home today to find Rico with his head stuck in the fence, he’d worked a panel loose and got his head between it and the support beam, the nail was resting on top of his head. My neighbour had to break more of the fence so we could get him out; he was well and truly stuck. I’d been meaning to take Rico to the vet for his separation anxiety and vaccinations for a while, but I kept putting it off, today we got there! Rico and I are now on one of the same drugs – Lovan, and he’s on Xanax, a sedative I had a few years ago, quite an effective one actually... We have lots of behaviour modification work to do, but hopefully today is the beginning of the end of home destruction and sad lonely doggy. I must thank K - a vet friend - today should have destroyed my wallet, but it didn’t.

Insomnia is back with all its might, going off the Stilnox was a bad idea, I’m back on it now but it’s not working. I’ve never fainted, but I think I came very close this evening while walking Rico, not from the exercise - I’m not that unfit - but from the movement, and my inability to bring things into focus. I have the same problem when driving, and it’s why I haven’t been doing much of it lately, every time I look anywhere but ahead I’m in trouble. Hopefully I sleep a bit tonight so I can write well tomorrow, I can’t go to art due to the hole in the fence and dog escaping issue, so getting some script done is a good idea.

Waste

The man with the energy vacuum has been to visit, he took everything and I have to go out soon, I can hardly walk from the lounge to the kitchen! I love the clarity in my mind at the moment, it’s what I imagine most people have going on in there, but the amount of drugs it takes to keep me there is really quite high. Some of the side effects are getting too much to handle, and I worry that I’ll need to come off or reduce some drugs, there ending my brief encounter with sanity. In October I’m doing a two week inpatient CBT program, which if successful will mean I can start coming down on the antidepressants, which should mean I won’t need the others. There are a lot of maybes, but at least there’s a plan. I fear losing what I have now because in the bad times I can’t remember that this is possible. I hope these more positive posts will help me when things do go bad, I won’t have to trust my Dr; I can trust my own words that sanity exists, even for me.

Thanks for your comments last week, they were helpful and encouraging. Thanks also to my non Christian readers for not encouraging me to quit, and for one even telling me to persevere.

One last thing... I DON’T HAVE MS! My symptoms have been put down to anxiety, you wouldn’t believe how much the mind can affect the body. 

Why go to Church?

Why do I go to church? If I’m honest with myself it’s not to worship God, it’s not to learn, it’s not to serve; it’s just to be around people, it’s a lazy way to not be lonely for a few hours and it doesn’t always work! I go to church hoping to do these good things but my brain is too dead to learn, my heart is too cold to worship and I’m too fucked up to serve - I’ve tried the coffee ministry a few times and I kept scowling at people (they liked my coffee though). It’s hard to not give up your faith when you feel it does nothing for you, or even worse depresses you, there’s nothing like congregational worship to enlighten the gap between you and them, by the end I feel like I have no soul. The obvious answer to the feeling empty problem would be that I am empty. I am not strong in my faith; maybe the Holy Spirit has deemed me not a good home and departed, or maybe I’m just not trying enough. I don’t pray enough, they’re mostly conversational bits throughout the day and I rarely read the Bible even though I know there’s a wealth of knowledge in there and a lot of very encouraging and uplifting parts. So, then we come to commitment, I lack it in reading and praying, but I have held on to my faith through 13 years, many of them difficult and I’ve adhered to some of the more difficult guidelines for living, but is it now just habit?

Tonight’s service topic was “Redeeming Singleness” – basically why singleness doesn’t totally suck! I hate being single, but I know I will remain so until my relationship with God is greatly improved, in my last (and only) relationship I made him my god; I never would have admitted it at the time but I can see now that that’s where my heart was and it was one of the big reasons it couldn’t work. Since the breakup I could have had a few relationships or flings, and I am a human, I have a libido! But instead I waited, and continue to wait for, a godly man (I might have one or two in mind...) but I am not the godly woman they deserve. In jest the minister went through a checklist for finding the perfect Christian partner tonight and I fall very short, I can’t go back a few generations and make my entire ancestry outstanding people of the church, I can’t make my parents Christians and my dad not frightening, I can’t make my brother a Christian, or even not the hate filled adolescent that he is. Basically I want a prize Christian man who will help me draw nearer to God and discourage me from making him my god instead, but I am not his prize woman – yet. I need an amazing man who can help me get better, or I need a very long wait and a lot of work to become at least a little bit of a prize, I suspect it will be the latter; or singleness which brings me back to the beginning, loneliness and why go to church at all – well... I need to change.

I’ve decided to allow anonymous comments again, it’s annoying having to sign in just to leave a quick comment. I’m keeping the moderation on and won’t be publishing the highly insulting ones, you can disagree with me and I’ll publish it but you don’t have to attack in the process, I have feelings however damaged they are. I’ve been doing more personal writing lately which is why there have been fewer posts, I don’t know if that will change, but that’s why the absence.

Changing

Down. Medium. Down. Down. Medium. Down. Medium. Medium. High. Down. Down. Down. Down. Medium. I like medium, I’m there now and it’s a good fit. I realised tonight after seeing a friend, that my friends have had a hard time through this ordeal too. Not just my moods, but my alertness, my ability to talk and anxiety levels are ever changing.  I had a bit of a crash last week and the concern and confusion were clear on my friends faces. I can see it would be hard not knowing what’s going to happen next with your friendship, but I saw no sign of impatience in them. This is a slow battle, it may never end completely, and I must remember I’m bringing people along with me and spare them a thought (though a prayer would be more helpful!).

Due to last week’s crash one of my medications was increased on Monday, it’s working already and I feel much better. The side effects have increased with the dose; my hands are shaking most of the time, I find it hard to speak because my mouth is trembling and (this is a guess) it feels like there are muscle spasms in my neck at the base of the head because my head tremors for quite long periods a few times a day. These sound awful, but I still prefer how I feel now - side effects included – to the last year and a bit. I thank God (really) that my Doctor took the risk of admitting me given my history and the fact no one else would, and that he is open minded enough to question a diagnosis given by many doctors; both he and my psychologist are now quite sure it’s not BPD and that the self harm urges are intrusive thoughts rather than a coping mechanism for me, the best thing about this is no DBT!  

Umm

I overdid it today, by a lot! I can’t think straight enough to write well so this will be short. This evening I had the strangest psychiatrist appointment I’ve ever had, it left me confused, a little angry and utterly exhausted. I almost wish I could train as a psychiatrist just so I could understand everything; I know you can’t treat yourself, but there’s just so much information, I thought I had a pretty good understanding of the parts relevant to me – I’m not even close! It’s 11 days until I see the neurologist again, I’m working myself up now, but I can feel it in bones that it is MS, and I’m terrified. 

One Wrong Girl

Today I felt extraordinarily good, and I still do. I left the house twice, both quite long outings, one of which involved walking Rico. I had a nap in the evening and then a friend came over for a cup of tea and a chat. I have a little smile on my face at the moment and there’s no one here to pretend it’s there for. I thought I’d never feel this way again; I’ve got to get rid of the tiredness and then maybe I’m okay. I don’t have much to write about at the moment, I’ve been spending my time knitting, sleeping and watching Mad Men and Spooks. I doubt you want to hear about my knitting errors, and plot lines I can’t remember because I’m half asleep; so let this post act as a record that I was wrong about never getting better, I take now with the tiredness over any given day in the last 14 months and many, many days before that.

Gone Cancer Gone

At the end of 2009 my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer, towards the beginning of last year he was told it had advanced to a pelvic bone, there’s not much you can do once it’s in the bones, but he’s been receiving pretty intensive treatment anyway. He had an MRI last week - it was test week in our family! Dad’s was a full body, he was in that tube a jolly long time and he hated it, his oncologist whom he probably loathed at the time wanted to see where else in his bones the cancer was. The answer, nowhere, not even where it started! So daddy is no longer an advanced cancer patient, he’s just got normal prostate cancer, which is a much smaller burden for him to carry. I think writing this I felt some kind of appropriate emotional response, which is an answer to some pretty intense prayer I received on Saturday, or a very delayed processing of daddy’s illness, or both, probably both. 

It Worked

Rico and I just got back from a walk, he’s a happy boy, but I’ve just spent a week of energy, something I have even less of at the moment. I’m not sure if it’s the drugs or the illness it’s self, but doing anything at all is so hard, I’ve cut back on the sleepers to see if it helps at all. Despite being worn out I’m glad to be where I am now, pre admission I was a mess, and now I’m pretty stable, who knew mood stabilisers would have that effect! Who knew they’d work, I can hardly believe it! I’ve had one strong self harm urge and a couple of medium strength suicidal urges since discharge, and considering I’m a bit anxious about the whole MS thing and I thought everyone in the world hated me, that’s not too bad. I need to get whatever is exhausting me sorted, I should be going to uni this afternoon – not going to happen!

I just realised it has been over two months since any cutting, more than that since an OD and a few weeks since a little incident in hospital. I'm actually doing well, so all in all a happy little post today.

A Week

I left hospital on Wednesday, and so far all is well. Forgive my short posts of late, my brain is fuzzy and finding words to put in a sentence is really hard. I’ve been passing time knitting and crocheting also playing Portal 2; Logic isn’t one of my strengths so I tend to take a while to get through each test chamber or area, and I’ve resorted to cheating four times, but it’s still fun.

Women’s weekend was good, I attended less than half the meetings / activities, but I’m glad I went; It tired me out so no church last night and no small group tonight. I hope I’m up to going to uni tomorrow, I’ve already missed two weeks and have not done any reading. I know I’ve been playing Portal and knitting, but it’s a different type of attention, I’m not in a learning frame of mind.

I saw a neurologist last Tuesday (that’s why my discharge was delayed) and there was enough concern to send me for an MRI, but not enough to go running through the city screaming. The MRI was on Friday morning but I couldn’t get another appointment for the results until August 19, she’ll call if it’s anything urgent, but since there’s not a great deal of urgency in dealing with MS (the big suspicion) I don’t know if that means she’d call for that and I can feel relief in a few days if the phone doesn’t ring or if I have to wait a month. I don’t want MS, I’ve got enough illnesses! I wasn’t going to write about that at all or until I know the outcome because of the predictable comments “All you do is whinge and look for things to worry about, there are people out there with real problems like MS which you’re just convincing yourself you have to get attention” etc. I had trouble with last week’s blog comments, I suspected my friends of leaving them, I thought everyone hated me. I just wanted to share my tiny bit of joy. As a result I’ve changed the comment requirements, no more hiding behind anonymous, I know it’s quicker to post that way, but it’s not an option anymore.

Roof and Top

I’m now leaving on Wednesday, hopefully no later, it depends on something happening (or not happening) on Tuesday, I’ll report that after the fact.

I bought myself some daffodils yesterday; they’re such a happy flower, I hope they stay alive until I leave.

There was a meeting today with Dr, Mummy and me me me me me, it went better than I expected.

And the big news shouted from the roof tops is... I don’t have BPD, just a few symptoms which are most likely side effects of SSRIs since they coincided with the beginning of my SSRI treatment. For you anti drug people, going off the SSRIs is not an option, the OCD and anxiety they are controlling is too debilitating. I will still be referring to BPD as shorthand for the symptoms I have, but it’s not my tattooed label anymore.

Own Feet

I’m most likely leaving on Monday; it will be two days shy of a four week stay. In some ways I am much better, in others not so. The new drug regime is working as much as you can expect it to short of a miracle, side effects are plentiful, but I’m most annoyed by the shaky hands – dry mouth previously mentioned is improving. I’ve attended art nearly every day, and completed 6 pieces / projects and have two on the go. Art provides three hours a day to get sucked into something other than my head, it’s good. The studio is very well stocked here, in the previous hospital you could tell art therapy (and open studio) was the poor cousin to the other groups on offer. Art therapy here is very unstructured, the art is the therapy, at my old hospital we had only one hour, half of which was spent making art with set materials and a subject, and then we had to talk about it; that was a chore, this is enjoyable. Random internet folk have taught me how to knit and crochet in the last fortnight, though it took a human (R) to show me how to cast on. I’ve now knitted a headband and lots of other stuff I’ve torn apart because it was just practise.

There was a new admission this evening, has to be a first timer! I couldn’t tell who the patient was because the whole family was here – parents in their 50’s, their adult and teenage children, partners of children (evident by baby bump and proximity of partner), everyone was crying and fussing. My guess is there was a little incident at family lunch, it shocked everyone except the sufferer (mum is my guess) who has been hiding well, they went to ED and because they’re insured ended up here, I think that’s how it works when there are actually beds available and you’re not on a blacklist! They all looked so uneasy, mummy joined the freak show and now they have to visit her and hope not to be contaminated by the other more freaky freaks she’s been dumped with. That’s my interpretation of what they were thinking based on 20 minutes of spying over dinner. I remember my first few days in psych hospital; I was terrified and very alone. She’ll settle in.

I’m a bit scared about going home, I’m definitely not fine, but I can’t live in hospital, a part of me would like to. I’m looking forward to hanging with Rico again and being in my own house, though this week will be spent at my parents’. I’m not sure I’m looking forward to anything else; I’m lonely at home and most people my age work, I can’t put the friendship burden on too few people, history shows they sink.

To Lie?

One of the lovely side effects of Zeldox is dry mouth, it’s a symptom of many of the psychiatric drugs, but never one I’ve had, until now; It’s awful! Mummy is bringing sugar free lollies and gum tomorrow (Dr suggested it!) My mouth is really bad at the moment though and I’m a little sad that I don’t have unescorted leave, if lollies and gum are the answer, there’s a Coles around the corner screaming my name.

Two weeks until the women’s weekend, I don’t think I’ll be well enough, I’m only getting out of here soon if I lie to my psychiatrist, and that would defeat the point of coming in. A friend (B) for regular comment readers shared this article with me, it’s interesting, have a look if you wish. It made me a little sad though because the queen of DBT herself acknowledged that recovery requires a degree of good luck (among other things) Luck and I don’t live in the same hemisphere, when I travel so does she! Still, a good read.

A Lazy List

• Two weeks in hospital today.
• It would be lovely if you came to visit, I only have accompanied leave and it’s starting to feel like a prison.
• There has been an influx of ex patients of the hospital I was banned from; this is mostly a good thing.
• This morning got off to a comical start. There were no cornflakes, so I had Nutri-Grain, it was stale so I threw it away. I then put the croissant bought for me by a friend yesterday in the conveyor toaster, it caught fire (not just a little bit) then I dropped it on the ground. I satisfied my appetite with Wheet-Bix but the honey had run out and that’s what I like to put on them. Later I went to retrieve my clothes from the tumble dryer, only to find it had stopped working over night and they were still wet. Finally I poured myself a glass of water from the carafe in my room, overshot the glass and got water all over the bed side table and in the top drawer.
• I’m starting Zeldox tonight, it was supposed to be last night but they didn’t have any in stock; it’s similar to Seroquel, but without the weight gain, and it’s going to cost me a millionty dollars because it’s not on the PBS. I was wrong about Valdoxan, that's a totally different drug.
• I’ve been very careful to behave in here, there have been a few slip ups - hence the no unaccompanied leave; but I think overall it’s going well. I’ll be here at least another week, I’m hoping to be out in time for the church women’s weekend, I’ll be missing the Young Adult one this coming weekend, I was looking forward to that because I haven’t met many of the younger young adults. 
• Rico finally got groomed, he looks much better and I can now maintain his coat without all the matted hair in the way. I haven’t forgotten about Lester by the way, I miss him, but he really is better off at my parents’.

Don't Ever Let me Have a Credit Card

I bought Portal 2 today but my mobile broadband connection is too crappy to do the Steam update required to play it; I might be desperate enough to catch three types of public transport each way to my house and back so I can have good internet for a few hours, though I’ll probably be travelling longer than I’m home. There are a great number of shops near the hospital, I’ve spent a lot of money since I’ve been here, I’ve bought more clothes this week than I have all year, so I’m going to try and limit myself to one new pair of jeans, some tights, a few gifts and lots of coffee.

Yesterday was the worst day I’ve had in awhile, I requested the removal of my leave early in the morning because I didn’t trust myself and spent the day trying not to bite chunks out of my arm. I had two visitors, who I put on a pretty good act for, I told them it was a bad day but no matter how close the friend I don’t breakdown in front of people. Psych gave me my leave back because so long as I don’t jump in front of a truck it’s better for me to have some independence. I had my first dose of Clonazepam today and it worked, without making me drowsy; Valdoxan won’t start until Friday, and I wonder if I got the name wrong, the info I’ve found online doesn’t come close to what my psych said.

Art is going well, I’ve been every day but one, my first piece is almost finished and I made a start on the second tonight whilst waiting for a layer of paint to dry on the first. I didn’t like the first one until yesterday when it lost its adolescent appearance.

Weeks

I’m getting two new drugs, one of which (Valdoxan) is fairly new and I’m not sure I want it; the other is Clonazepam, which I hope will work, it’s a benzodiazepine and I have a great tolerance to them. This is not going to be a short admission; psych doesn’t want to introduce all the drugs at once, it’ll be about three weeks at a minimum. Rico is going to hate me, he’s staying with my parents and they aren’t home during the day, he gets lonely.

We Are All Planning Your Torture

Wow! I know a number of people with BPD including (probably) myself; I don't think any of us are capable, let alone inclined to torturing people. I hope the combination of exhaustion and feeling really shitty has made me misread this article; if not you'd better stay away, I might cut off 1cm of your body every minute starting from the toes, deep fry them and make you eat it as you bleed to death.

I just found the beginnings of a blog post I wrote on Thursday, I forgot I’d written it, but it’s rather funny so I have to share it with you – I have not edited it, I really was this drugged!

“I seen in double after taking epilm, I find it best to shut the left eye and put my trust in mr right

I”m very drugged at the moment, can’t sacta;;u see kneybosrd. The sort ofg mood where  would dwell in my furtue,, bieh the fantasy one and the one hsih will probblyt ha[[en. I ant  to diw”

Coffee for me Tomorrow

Very short psych consult tonight, no changes for now, I think he wrote up a new sedative for me. I now have leave, so I won’t be as bored from tomorrow, I have to behave myself whilst out and not bring back any contraband; getting banned from a second hospital is not on my priority list! I’m sleeping better, six hours last night and a nap this afternoon – probably a bad idea, but eh. Art was good this morning; it’s open studio, so you come and go as you please over a period of three hours and do whatever you want; I’m making a canvas monster. No visitors today, but I was too grumpy to entertain anyway, of course everyone is coming tomorrow!

Epilim

My psychiatrist came to see me at 9.30 last night and spent over an hour with me, he's not convinced I have borderline (whispers yippee) he can't be sure yet, an hour isn't enough to totally rule something like that out. He started me on a mood stabiliser called Epilim and a stronger dose of stilnox; I slept 8 hours last night! I was very dizzy for a few hours this morning, that was probably the epilim, I actually had to hold on to stuff to walk. My roomie is good company, I think I'm actually glad I'm sharing. I tend to hide in my room in hospitals and as a result hardly talk to anyone. She's a science geek - like a dr type, but she's worked as a lecturer, which gives us something to talk about since I'm hoping to start some sessional work next year. She's leaving on Sunday, hopefully her replacement is nice too. My guess is I'll be at least a week here, to give the drug change time to kick in, longer if he decides to change the antidepressant - which he's thinking about. Come visit! I'm not allowed out yet and it's boring, I'll go to art tomorrow though, I forgot this morning and they don't let you in late.

I'm in

After a morning of many phone calls I learnt that I was accepted by a psych yesterday, she had an appointment available this afternoon and was able to admit me right away. I'm in a private hospital but shared room, roomie seems nice. The food here is terrible, hopefully I'll leave a few kg lighter! I'm very tied and flat, but for the first time in weeks I feel somewhat safe. I won't have my laptop until tomorrow so am limited to posting from my phone. Sms if you'd like to visit, or pm through facebook, I won't be posting the name of the hospital on here.

Four Frikkin Thirty AM

There are currently no public psych beds available anywhere in Victoria! I spoke with CAT tonight and they would have admitted me, but no room, they already had four or five people sitting in various emergency departments crossing all their digits for a bed. I have to call a private hospital which wasn’t on my “go to” list at 9am to see if their resident psych can admit me. It’s getting a little ridiculous; I am very well insured, surely someone wants my fund’s money?  I can’t stop fidgeting, my heart is racing and irregular, I can’t sleep despite six hours of trying. I might just kill time until 9am rolls around, make the call and then try again at this sleep thing. I spent the last two hours (in bed on my phone) researching either purchasing or hiring a spiral staircase so I can stage my play, the problem is - being a short - we’d need to strike the set very quickly for the next piece to come on, or set up very quickly if we were last (or both if we’re not first or last), the staircase might be problematic, and since it’s called “The Stairs” and they are integral I don’t think ditching them is an option. This might have to be one that stays on paper – Unless I make it a full play, but I think this is right at its current length.

I wish sedatives still worked on me without having to resort to dangerous doses.

Misery Bear

I just discovered Misery Bear, it's gold, you have to watch it!
http://www.miserybear.com/films.html

Doctor Whore

I can’t start writing a blog post until I have  a title; often I go back and change the title, there just has to be something there before I can write. Today’s starter title is Hgjhgjgh – the first few letters my hands pummelled blindly on the keyboard. This will be the last post I advertise on Facebook for a while, a friend and I are having a Facebook rest together, so if you want to keep reading this you’ll have to follow or check it every so often.

Two years ago I started having dreams and a few days later something from one of the dreams would happen; A few examples: I went to my old chiropractor in a dream and it had turned into a huge super clinic, in reality I dropped in a week or so later to pick up some x-rays and it had changed significantly. In another dream Krispy Kreme was going out of business, the next day The Age documented their economic downfall and multiple store closures. Dad smoking an electronic cigarette, the next day an article about battery powered cigarettes to help people quit.  And this beauty two nights ago; attending a seminar in a very large auditorium, I took my seat but didn’t realise until it was too late to move that my chair was a good 60cm higher than all the others. Luckily the people either side of me were quite tall, so I didn’t stand out too much, but then they left and everyone else was down by my waist, I felt awkward. Last night in church I was wearing boots with a little heel, usually that’s not a problem because I’m not exactly a giant, but short people sat either side of me, no problem when were seated, but when we stood I was the tallest in the row and didn’t like it. I don’t believe I can dream the future, but I think my subconscious gleans little bits of information and gives them to me in dream form, scary at first, now amusing.

GP again today, as I expected all the scans and x-rays were fine; I’d prefer something to be wrong so it can be fixed rather than niggling problems that won’t go away. While it is possible, maybe even probable that the tingling down my left side is somatic (basically anxiety caused) GP insists I see a neurologist to rule out MS and a couple of other things I didn’t remember because I’ve never heard of them. I’m completely un-worried, even if I had a massive inoperable brain tumour, I wouldn’t give a damn because it would bring death closer. MS would suck, it shortens your life anywhere from a bit to a lot, but in the mean time it destroys you. My Grandad’s first wife had MS, it caused her to choke on her food and that’s how she died. GP is still trying to get me a private admission, she’s making four calls tonight and if they fail there is the option of going public, but that’s really only for crisis containment, they don’t do anything to make you better, just protect you from yourself. I might need to do that, it’s getting tiring constantly fighting the urges, it’s only a matter of time before I give up.

Valium, I missed you

After a few months off the stuff, Valium sure kicks arse!

Snot and Hills

L came over tonight and I cooked a full meal for maybe the third time this year, it was good too. I’m suddenly full of a cold, it came during the night and cold and flu tablets are doing nothing at all for it. I spoke to the hospital today and in their words ‘it will be a couple of weeks’ until I get a new psychiatrist and they can’t admit me before then. I’ve asked my GP to put me on bed brokers if she can – I only left a message for her, so I don’t know what the answer is, but they can get you a private bed anywhere and set you up with a psych, they did it for a friend with only a few days to wait. I’m not too desperate for an admission, which is why I haven’t been carted off to a public hospital, but I think I’d benefit from one at the moment as I’m having huge mood dives, strong impulses, increased anxiety and I’m still having trouble sleeping. It would be nice to make a significant improvement before next semester starts; I’m doing at least two subjects and need to maintain a distinction (preferably HD) average.

I’ve just been poking around on realestate.com, I wish I could afford a helicopter and rental for multiple helipads in areas I frequent. I found several properties in the hills I would love to live in and the rent is so cheap; but in such beautiful surrounds and with a huge drive to get anywhere I’d quickly give in to my inner hermit and never be seen by anyone. Maybe my move to the hills will have to wait until I have a man to push me out the door and someone has been kind enough to give me their helicopter (and flying lessons, helipads, fuel).

To Do List:

Find a man

Become best friends with a dissatisfied helicopter owner

(or) Get ridiculously rich and buy a helicopter

Get a job

Learn to fly

Find beautiful property

Purchase animals for menagerie

Have a throne made so I can survey my property and animals in comfort and style

Crawling

I got a lovely email at 5am from my lecturer asking for the part of the final assignment I hadn’t handed in, my favourite part being “it doesn’t have to be very good, you’re only a few marks away from a HD anyway” and that’s without the whole assignment! I wrote it in an hour and a half whilst playing with S. I’ve never written a script treatment before (or read one) so hopefully it’s enough to get those extra few marks for a HD.

GP called about an hour ago, as predicted she couldn’t get me a private admission without a private psych to admit me, she asked if I thought I was bad enough to go public, I said no, I think I’d rather be left to my own devices than go there again. It shouldn’t be long before I have a new private psych, but once I’ve been accepted it might be a little wait for my first appointment, and even then I might get another who doesn’t admit BPD scum like me!

I met a staghound crossed with a golden retriever today, he took my breath away. Rico is great and all, but my heart really belongs to the giant dogs. Great Dane, Staghound, Saluki, Irish Wolfhound; I’d gladly own a few of each when I have my massive house, a good million acres and servants to care for my menagerie.

A Watched Phone Never Rings

I got to sleep at 6am after many hours spent resisting the valium stockpile.

I’m still in my pyjamas, it’s 6:30pm.

Not one peep out of my phone.

Rico smells.

Here we go Again

My depression is worsening. I’m permanently holding back tears for no reason. My GP will be calling around tomorrow to try and get me a private admission. Everything has got on top of me and I want nothing more than to take all my valium and cut my throat, but there is enough desire not to do that to make me seek help, I’ve done my bit by asking, it’s now the systems turn.

For Want of a...

My favourite side effect of Lovan (that’s the antidepressant) is loss of libido; it completely eliminates it and makes life for a single woman so much easier. It’s back and I don’t want it! I’m almost tempted to increase my dose just so I get the side effect back and also to upset my stomach again so I can’t eat and keep losing weight – I’ve stagnated at -11kg. I am currently attracted to one man, who I’d say is in my league, but I think he deserves better than a scarred, insane, sometimes suicidal, B.P.D girl; I was thinking about that last night and realised that all I really deserve is an unemployed drunken abusive lout - they say girls marry similar to their father (though mine is a hard worker). Life with me is going to be a punishment, the man I like deserves reward; a man like my father deserves me. It almost makes sense to give up the faith, give up the idea of monogamy and shag whoever I please, I could never do that, but I wonder if the end result may be better.

Insomnia is not a Toothless Hound

I had a job interview this morning, I had to cancel it due to another bad night’s sleep and general melancholy. It would have been a good job for me, it was a barista role for a hospitality agency, meaning I can accept shifts when I’m well and turn them down when I want to die, making it to the interview would have been a good start.

Whatever is causing the tingling on my left side is getting worse, my face and arm feel awful. I’m not going to the GP for the third time in five days, it’ll wait until my appointment on Tuesday, hopefully I haven’t had a stroke by then! I’m having some guests over tomorrow and need to spend today intensively cleaning my house; Rico has been dragging dirty water in with him and pawing at the windows, the place looks like a squat and smells like one too, thanks to his muddy swimming shenanigans.

I submitted my script last night with five minutes to spare; then I discovered I’d missed part B of the assignment, a treatment of the script. We never went over this in class, I’ve never written one and really can’t be bothered, but I have to. It looks easy enough, I just have no motivation and I can’t find an example for the stage, it seems to be more of a screen thing. I suppose I can do that between cleaning carpets, windows and everything else today. I want a maid.

Rain and Long Haired Dogs

Rico just had his first walk since Sunday partly due to my knee injury, partly due to the rain. It’s bad enough when he comes inside after 30 seconds in the garden for a wee, but with those hairy paws collecting every drop of water they touch, walking in the rain is not something I’m keen to do with him. Because I’m not supposed to walk too much until GP has decided what’s wrong with my knee, I took him to a local sports oval which is fully fenced -cocker spaniels in general have terrible road sense – I realised as we left that it doubles as a flood basin; that would explain why he had a nice muddy swim in the middle of the field! I think it’s time to buy him some doggy gumboots. I walked two laps of the oval and shouldn’t have, my knee is in agony and I don’t have any ibuprofen in the house, paracetamol does nothing for it.

I have one monologue left to write and then I’m finished with uni for the semester, it should only take an hour to write and then another hour to clean up the rest of the script. I saw the new psychologist today, she’s lovely and I really like the clinic, it’s a beautiful old house decorated like a grandma’s place, very cosy. Of course though things can’t be perfect... She’s pregnant, so can only see me for a few months, if I get into the October DBT intake that’ll be okay though  because they ask you to stop seeing your own psychologist.

If you prayed for me, thanks! I slept 8-9 hours the night before last and got some sleep last night too. 

184

I saw my psychiatrist for (hopefully) the last time today, it turns out that whoever spoke to my GP was quite wrong about him having to handball me, it’s got nothing to do with him. So I travelled 50 minutes each direction, on loud public transport for what ended up being a five minute appointment then I got home to find that Rico had been dancing in the rain and had torn the laundry apart. I got to spend my afternoon reassembling the laundry and bathing the disgusting creature responsible for its destruction. Drying a dog over a heating vent is challenging, I’ll have to buy him a hairdryer – I don’t use one because I have curly hair, and drying it makes it into an afro-like mess.

I saw my poor GP yesterday, and then again tonight, she’s going to call the hospital tomorrow for another attempt at getting me a psychiatrist. I also get blood tests to find out why my left side went numb for hours last night and then a CT scan if the blood is fine. I’ve had so many brain scans I should be able to draw it from memory by now – not that I can draw, nor did I pay any attention to the images. I’ve also got the CAT team on my case, I was supposed to give GP my valium stockpile but I didn’t so she called them...

If you’re the praying type here’s my needs: my knee is ruined from that fall last week, insomnia persists, this combined with the other issues is sending me crazier and I can’t cope with another psychiatrist rejection. I’ve been writing a post in response to a reader’s question, but it’s massive and I’m deciding what to do with it; split it up or cut it down.

Tweet

There are about 40 trees in my parents’ suburb, half of which are in their back garden. I couldn’t sleep again last night, it was about 5am when I drifted off and not long after that when I woke again to the sound of birdsong – a strange occurrence in this part of Melbourne. As nice as it was to listen to the birds, their song brought unwelcome memories of being at M’s house in the hills; where there was very little time without the sounds of nature dancing in my ears; birds all day – especially in the morning, frogs at night, creaking trees every time the wind so much as thought about blowing (and the peaceful candlelit games nights brought by rolling blackouts caused by said trees). I miss those days.

Raw Chicken is bad for Your Tummy

Insomnia persists; it’s great being at my parents not having to worry about anything, but I’m going home tomorrow because I have a week full of appointments in the East, plus we get along better when there’s some distance between us! Only three days until the dreaded psychiatrist appointment; I don’t think he’ll refuse to refer me to someone else, but my lovely mind is coming up with all sorts of scenarios, I guess the one requiring the worst luck will win – seems to be the pattern. I haven’t been writing as much this week because there’s nothing to say except my head hurts and I want some sleep, so I’ll leave you with that.

Good iz Me

I iz a good riter, yes? Yes! Over the last three days I’ve spent a total of 2.5 hours on my script, that’s pretty slack, but Mr lecturer dude and da klass loved it. I’ll stop the spelling and grammar errors here, it doesn’t suit me. For the first time since starting this project I’m actually thinking of producing it, I could enter it in Short and Sweet but I would have to enter as an independent theatre company if I want to direct it myself, or surrender directing rights to whichever short and sweet director chooses it (if any). So who wants to be in my theatre company? I found out today that I can start my PhD much sooner than I thought, I just have to do six coursework subjects, swap to research and then ask to have my project upgraded to PhD – that means making it a bigger project, but since I already had a small one and  a large one in mind, that’s no problem.

I fell over on my doorstep Monday afternoon, there is a narrow ramp and my foot slipped off the edge, I landed strangely and hurt my knee and back, I think the knee will stick around for a while. That’s two falls in two days, I fell very ungracefully at church Sunday night, walking from carpet onto hard floor in new boots with slippery heels, thankfully there was a chair next to me which I was able to grab hold of and slow the fall. Insomnia is back in all its glory, the last five nights have been awful, Sunday night / Monday morning I fell asleep around 5am, woke about 8, slept for a half an hour and then woke after a very realistic dream in which I’d confronted the housemate we don’t like and thought it had really happened. Eventually I got up at 1pm after on and off sleep. I’m staying at my parents’ for a while because it’s hard to look after yourself on no sleep, I need to go to their GP tomorrow and ask for Imovane; that’s the sleeper which gave me hallucinations last time I took it, but I’m quite sure that was because of Lamictal, I’d taken Imovane previously without any issues. Rico is here with me, he’s great with the cats, they’re still pretty scared though.

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.