Writing. Stuff. Moving

I've been in the clinic for three weeks and three days. At first I remained very depressed and had my leave taken away a few times and all my stuff put in the nurses' station. I'm much better now, still having the suicidal urges, but I don't think they'll ever go away. I've had 14 TMS sessions and the last four days I seem to have picked up. I know this because people are commenting that I actually look human (they say it in nicer words than that) and I've finally started writing my novel. I had quite a lot of backstory and character development written, but I was too scared to start the actual story. I've finished the first chapter (first draft only, I'm sure it'll change) and made a start on chapter two, I think chapter two may end up being later in the story, but for now it's two. I've got just under 2000 words, which I know isn't a lot, but it's what most of my uni assignments were, so it feels good to have pumped that out quite quickly.

I had some company today, the 6pm minister and a friend, D, came to have communion with me, and then D and I went out for lunch. I'm not too bored at the moment, I'm watching Stranger Things, just two episodes a night, I had to re-watch season one a bit quicker than that so I could be ready for the season 2 release yesterday. I bought a new sim card for my old phone and got a good data deal, so I have better internet than usual when I'm in here. I use the phone as a hotspot. It's pretty crazy that there's no patient WIFI in here in 2017, nearly 2018. There is hope though.

I'm (again) considering a move to Edinburgh. I'm going to ask my psychiatrist if he can get a phone number for any NHS psychiatrists over there. I've sent off an e-mail to a clinic, it looks like the NHS doctors are all in hospitals though. I've emailed my church over there to ask if people often put up notices or ask around for flatmates and just letting them know that I'm looking. I have some very good friends here, but I just don't feel like Melbourne has much to offer me. I always get a feeling of belonging when I'm in Edinburgh. I haven't looked into the courses on offer or if I'd have a hope in hell of getting in, but Edinburgh University is one of the good ones.

I know this is a sudden ending, but my night meds are kicking in, so good night.

Ten

Tonight is my last night in the hospital. I wasn't given much notice; my doctor decided only last night. It might have been a compassionate move to save me from a shared room. When you misbehave in here they can move you for your own safety. I think it's just to be dicks. I told the NUM that if he moved me I'd discharge myself. And if I weren't able to discharge I'd just camp in the hall refusing to go into my new room until they either gave my single room back or let me go home. So the naughty thing. I absconded a little bit. By stealth I got out the door, but then came back after about 30 seconds because the reality of the situation hit me - the police would be at the train station before me, and then I'd be taken to the psych ward I most dread. Not long after my return I needed to calm down, and the best way to do that is by cutting myself, so I smashed a mug in my bathroom and planned to cut my leg with the shards. I've got two pairs of black pants and two pairs of black leggings here, so I'd be able just to let it bleed without needing to patch it up and no one would notice. A nurse came in before I was able to do anything, and very shortly after, my doctor. I probably would have got caught anyway, as what I really want is a long gash from elbow to wrist, sometimes I can just feel what it is I need, and that's it at the moment.

TMS is finished, I was supposed to have 30, but the Dr running the show stopped it at 28 because it was obviously not working. I have been told it could still work, as it can be delayed. I think I'll just see how I feel while I'm at home and if I want to end it I've got a good method now. I'm only home for ten days anyway, Dr wants to do more TMS on the other side of my head - I had it on the left this time, now for the right. Also, he wants to take me off my antidepressant as we both believe it's doing nothing at all. Still leaves me on seven medications though! Ketamine is still a possibility, Dr has sent multiple emails and was going to call someone today. Dr is going away for ten days - one of the reasons for my discharge, and there have to be seven days at home before a new round of TMS - an insurance thing.

So K, how do you feel about returning to the big wide world?
Thanks for asking. I'm looking forward to catching up with certain friends for whom it is nearly impossible to visit me in hospital. I'm looking forward to getting back into the gym and getting my fitness up to a more respectable level; if that brings about some weight loss too, then great, but I think the weight is going to stay put until I'm off Seroquel. I'm looking forward to sleeping in my own bed. The hospital has upgraded to King singles, and I think my mattress is memory foam, so it's been super comfortable, but there's nothing like your own bed - especially when it's nice and big. I should probably use these 10 days of freedom to go to the dentist, there's nothing wrong but I haven't been this year.

Final thoughts: Don't be surprised to see me with tubi grip on my arm/s. Don't be surprised if I kill myself. Ask me if I want to catch up and I'll probably say yes, the busier I am the better; I've only got 10 days to get through, but that can feel like an eternity.

Free (Just Not For Long)

Well, what to say... I've been out of hospital for exactly a week - well one week and 7 minutes if we're being specific. It's felt liberating, I can walk out the door without asking anyone, get in my car and go wherever I like; after three months' incarceration that's a big deal. It's been a hard week though, usually my household cook for each other, we each pick a night of the week at the start of each week and then cook for everyone on that night. After being catered for (not always badly I might add) for so long I haven't got myself past cooking some pasta with a jar of sauce or scrambling some eggs. S is keen to reinitiate the group cooking, so hopefully we can convince the other two; there's just no motivation for me to cook a more complicated, nutritious meal when it's just me eating.

I'm probably going back into the hospital on Monday for two weeks - it better not be any longer. I've been a bit of a mess and DR thinks it's time to increase my Parnate dose, this was always coming because I'm actually not on the treatment dose, they say that's between 30mg & 40mg, I'm on 20mg right now. I performed some self-harm yesterday and the day before, I'd lasted a few days without doing so because I had no razor blades left and I'd never use a kitchen knife, in the end the urge got ridiculous so I went out and bought a knife, I now know razor blades are better - sharper. So this pretty blunt knife has left me with decorated thigh and wrist but no damage. I already had an appointment with my GP booked before I did this, but when I told her she was furious, I've never seen her like that before; usually she's understanding and tries to comfort me, this time she was saying that it's a poor use of her time to be stitching me up for something I've done to myself and she could be seeing other patients or talking me through things and actually trying to make some progress rather than being in the theatre stitching me up. I'm lucky I didn't need any this time - that knife isn't capable of cutting that deep. She still wants to be my GP, asked to see me for a double appointment next week if I'm not in the clinic; maybe she was just trying a different method - scaring me!

I had an experience yesterday whilst walking where I felt like my body had produced another and was walking behind me, so my mind was in the front body but all of my energy and my coordination was in the other body walking behind me. I made it to my car and the two merged back into one, I didn't feel right for the rest of the day. Today I feel teary and like spending the day curled up reading Harry Potter and not leaving the house would be good. I have a lunch date though, this is a good thing, it's someone I want to see and it'll get me out of the house.

Where's The Off Button?

I got in early this year, the first admission for the year at 11:30 am 1/1/17!  Since my last post I've been home and back here again following another overdose, there was some drama with the doctors in the hospital the day after I woke up; my support worker is helping me make a formal complaint. I'll write about that here when it's done with. Between the last admission, which was only 6 days, and this I spent about 2.5 weeks at home. There was no event preceding this admission, no overdose, no acts of self-harm; just a mood dip which started off gradual and then on Friday 30/12 took a huge dive. Though I wouldn't have thought it possible to go much further down, on Saturday it did just that, and I sent the simplest of text messages to my Dr asking for an admission, he arranged it within half an hour despite it being NYE, and here I am.

Depression isn't just feeling sad; sadness hardly has a role in it. It's an inability to think of anything but the void inside you. Moving feels like you're carrying a full-grown German Shepherd on your back. I went out for a coffee on Monday and on my way back to the hospital I felt what energy I had sapped. I was ready to sit down in the car-park I was walking through and appear to be a homeless person who'd picked a very unusual begging location. I know this isn't possible, but I was at a depth of depression whereby I felt my heart could willingly stop beating to save me from this feeling. I made it back to the hospital and just curled up cuddling my pillow - also how I spent NYE.

 I'll be seeing my doctor this evening, and I'm hoping to say more to him than when he came in on Monday, I was too down for conversation, he basically got yes and no answers from me. 

I can't write any more. I have loads to say but not the presence of mind to do it.

Dumped Again

I'm sorry this blog has taken on more of a diary feel of late, I'm not too sure what to do with it. I want to write about my adventure with BPD and that kind of necessitates the diary tone but I don't like it.

I have been out of hospital since Wednesday - a public one close to my Mum's home. I was sectioned on Monday for smuggling a knife into the hospital for a suicide attempt. I surrendered it before doing anything, but merely having it was enough to freak out the nurses and cause my doctor to throw his hands in the air and give up on me. He has requested a few months without me and when he takes me back he wants to do so with the help of a case manager. The CAT team have visited me twice since my discharge and are dealing with the case management referral. In the meantime I will hopefully be given a new private psychiatrist from one of the only hospitals left open to me, my GP wrote several referrals for me when I saw her on Thursday, she's amazing, I'm very lucky to have a GP as capable and caring as her.

It has been suggested to me that I write about the good stuff in my life, not just the crap; so here's the few recent good events.

On Sunday I attended church for the first time in almost two months. I was on coffee for our welcoming ministry prior to the service so I arrived over an hour early. I enjoy making coffee even if it is only on a Sunbeam machine. Ten minutes into the service I felt the need to leave and maybe even go to an emergency department due to strong suicidal urges and the recurring feeling of inferiority I get at church. As I approached the door a friend caught me and spent the next 40 minutes talking very harshly to me about trying more to help myself and having greater consideration for those in my life who care about me. It was a hard conversation, and a number of times I wanted to either walk away or hit her, but I think she actually said some things I needed to hear. By time we finished talking the service was nearing the end so we sat down to a cup of tea and watched from the foyer. Now for the good... After the service I was not left alone for more than 30 seconds, so many people wanted to speak to me and seemed to genuinely care about me. I got to catch up with some people I hadn't seen since prior to my admission and also with those who came to visit me. I had some nice talks and was even invited to a couple's house for dinner but I couldn't go because I was getting tired and have a long drive back to my Mum's. I left church feeling cared for and glad to have been prevented from leaving earlier.

Another good event:
I spent part of the weekend at Mum's holiday home with my Grandad and Step-Grandmother who are visiting from Mexico. We had a lovely meal and wine at a local winery and enjoyed browsing in the few shops dotted around the place. They go home on Wednesday, it has been nice seeing them but I have no real attachment to them as none of my relatives have been part of my life, having grown up on the opposite side of the world to all of them.

It is currently 6:05am. I haven't slept a wink tonight due to a long afternoon nap necessitated by a high Seroquel dose. My choice was Seroquel or chancing what I would do to myself. My current suicidal urges are frightening, they feel different to what I'm used to, they're darker and feel like they're coming from an outside force rather than a mere thought. I'm stuck at the moment, I can't go to either of the private hospitals I usually attend, I don't want to go public because it's a scary environment, you get little help and if you put a foot wrong they have terrifying isolation rooms to place you in - I'm claustrophobic and being locked in one of them is high on my list of fears.

It may not come across but I do actually want to get better. I was excited about Schema Therapy because I though there was a chance it would work. I now can't do it until they start the next course because you need to be the current patient of one of the hospital's psychiatrists and mine has temporarily dumped me. I just wish he'd given me warning that he was struggling with me; apparently the knife incident was the straw that broke the camel's back, if I'd known it was getting close I could have tried to change my behaviours. I like my doctor and I value the help he's given me, I really would have tried to keep him.

To finish on a different note: I've been terribly clucky lately and would love to find some random (intelligent, educated, creative and at least a little good looking) man to get me pregnant and then never see again - unless he actually wanted a baby and a crazy woman, then maybe I could have a happily ever after family life. Sadly being a Christian doesn't really gel with random sex, sperm donation or single parenting - sperm donation within a marriage where the husband is having difficulty is probably not so frowned upon but I don't know the ins and outs of Christian reproduction rules. Maybe it's time for me to lose the 21 kilos I need to bring me down to a healthy BMI, try to be a little less insane and see if any Christian men look at me twice. I'd made a good start on the weight prior to my hospital admission, I was swimming several times a week and not eating too badly, I've lost 29kg in the last six months(ish) but I put on 40 due to Seroquel - I know I'm back on it, but it's the only thing that really works for me and I'm being careful this time, even weighing myself every day.

Thank-you for reading this epic post. The sun has risen and I think I'll have another attempt at this sleep thing. 6:36am!

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.

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.

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.

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.