Three Bottles of Scotch

I only have 19 imovane and less than a gram of Largactil, definitely not enough for a suicide attempt, but combined with a few bottles of scotch, maybe. I’ve spent this afternoon googling the effects of overdosing on various over the counter medications thinking I could use them to supplement my meager supply of prescription meds; it is not to be, they would all cause liver damage and are very unlikely to deliver a nice fast death – or any death at all, just the liver damage. I’m sure it’s obvious by now that I’m not well but I’m not in a pit of depression either. I’m trying to deal with two conflicting things, one being my faith and I’m very stressed about my future. I can’t see past this period of inactivity I’m in. I’m trying to hold off on the suicide plans until I find out if I’ve been accepted to the teaching course I’ve applied for because that will provide me with daily activity and give me a future. My writing course, when it recommences, will provide me with activity too but not a future stable career and something to do with my days until retirement.

I saw my doctor today and he suggested another short admission and maybe ECT if things keep getting worse. I’ve come close to calling him a few times today to arrange the admission as my thoughts have been on nothing but death but I don’t want to go in and it would put more stress on my family which they don’t need at the moment with dad still being in hospital and my aunt and uncle over from the UK to see us.  I think I’ll just ride this out. If you have time to spend with me please do the boredom and loneliness aren't helping. 

Shackled

After a long and complicated discussion with a friend yesterday I’ve accepted that my faith is in a terrible state and this really needs to change. In recent days I’ve accepted something that may tear me away from Christianity completely; and because I don’t feel I have a relationship with God but merely follow all the rules thinking that’s what makes me a Christian I don’t feel I have God’s help as I face this situation. I’ve been attending church regularly since I was 14; I’ve been praying little prayers throughout the day and longer ones at night, reading the bible and attending bible studies. I’ve sought to obey all the rules and suggestions the church has - these are usually drawn right out of the bible and therefore are from God and I’ve assumed that all these things would be pleasing to God and are what a Christian should do. I don’t know how many times I’ve asked for salvation and for the holy spirit to come into my life, you would think that once would do! I don’t know if I haven’t been truly repentant and so it hasn’t worked or if as it should it worked the first time when I was 14 and there’s some other problem in me. I’ve never felt the influence of the spirit, I’ve never heard from God, reading the bible is just like reading any other book and praying is like talking to the ground or ceiling. If my faith doesn’t soon become a genuine relationship with God where I feel a connection to him, and the thing in my life which defines me I will end up resenting it and turn away or be very miserable for the rest of my life trying to follow rules that I don’t want to but feel I have to.  I know faith isn’t about feelings but there ought to be some, it is after all a relationship. All logic tells me to persevere and try to fix my faith but then there’s the part of me that says I’m never going to have the relationship with God that all the Christians I know seem to have and that I should pursue this sin that’s tempting me. I hope more help from friends and from my churches pastoral carer (though I’m a bit frightened of that conversation) will change things for the better, I really don’t want to lose my faith if I have one. I want to love God.

Comments are very welcome, I could use your advise. Or PM me through facebook for a more private discussion.

Some Musings

For the last few years I have been defined by my illness, it’s really all there was to me and now that it is mostly gone I don’t know who I am or what to do with myself. I no longer spend my days in a pit of despair thinking about death or what I’ll use to cut my self to pieces. I’m not on a long list of medications and grappling with whether or not I should be in hospital; I’m just existing. I’m still on Imovane to help me sleep and about once a week I take a Largactil when I start to feel impulsive / dangerous and that’s it. Tomorrow I’m seeing my psychiatrist and it will be a very hard consultation because there will be so little to talk about. I’m going to ask if I can start seeing him fortnightly because the weekly consultations are just a waste of time and money at the moment. I’ll have to see him next Friday because I’ll be away the following week, but after that I think fortnightly consultations are a good idea.

I went to the supermarket an hour ago and on the way there I decided to buy some razor blades just incase I wanted to self harm. The temptation to do it was there so I thought I should have the necessary tools handy. It took me about 30 seconds to talk myself out of it, something I would have never been able to do in the past. It’s been over two months since I self harmed, quite the record! I don’t want to mess it up now; plus it’s summer, the scars would be hard to hide. I feel so ashamed of my left arm, it’s a complete mess and one of the scars is staying red, it’s right in the middle of my arm and has been there a while, it’s just not fading. I recently met a man who I quite liked, I was sitting opposite him for hours and had to reach across the table a bit, there’s no way he didn’t notice the mess that is my arm and I felt so awkward about it. Before I even get a chance to know someone they can make a pretty good guess that I’m messed up, so this is regret!

My dad was readmitted to hospital today after staying up all night in agony. I doubt it will be a long admission, the pain is most likely being caused by the radiotherapy treatment he’s having on his spine. He was told the treatment would make things worse before getting better, no one expected it to be this bad though. He’s been having a very hard time of late, the growth on his spine sends pain all over his body, everything hurts and he’s just miserable. I know death comes for us all, but this is just cruel. Dad’s cancer will claim his life but not in the immediate future, the poor thing has years of discomfort to endure first. He’s not at death’s door so even if euthanasia were legal I expect it wouldn’t yet be available to him but this is making me think about the issue more. Setting aside my religious beliefs, logic and compassion say to me that a quick escape from a slow and painful demise should be available to everyone; it’s very hard to make that sit well with my faith though. I don’t think it will be long before euthanasia is legal, along with other things the church opposes. When my time comes, despite my faith I don’t know if I could endure extreme pain when an escape is available and God is compassionate, perhaps he would understand.

A Long Update

It’s been a while since I blogged, more recent than August as the blog would imply, I deleted the last post for reasons I don’t remember. My memory has been terribly affected by ECT; I’ve forgotten people’s names, which has proved very embarrassing on a number of occasions and I can’t remember most things I’ve done over the last few years, fine details are especially difficult to recall. I have trouble making new memories even now about two months after my maintenance treatments have stopped. I feel stupid, I know I’m not, as my uni marks attest – I had another very good semester, although I was only studying one subject.

I’ve had a few hospital admissions lately, the last one ending only a week ago, that was only a four day admission for observation. Apart from those four days and a couple before going in I’ve been very well for the last six weeks. I’m off all medication except Largactil, which I take only when I need it – that is about once a week. My psychiatrist thinks medication has done me more harm than good, he’s quite surprised by the result of taking me off it all and so am I. I haven’t been happy by any means but I’ve been less suicidal, the temptation to self harm has been minimal and I’m just generally okay.

A couple of months ago my house mates and I received a letter from the real estate agent asking us to move out within 120 days, no reason was given. We had no bad inspections and always paid our rent on time so I suspect the landlord just wanted the house back. I’m now living with my parents again until I find somewhere else back in the East. I’m grateful that I’m welcome at my parents house when I’m too sick to care for my self or when I have nowhere else to go (or anytime really), but it’s hard living here; I’m far away from nearly all of my friends and getting to church takes 45 minutes. I missed a Christmas eve party and the 11pm Christmas eve carols service thanks to the distance and not feeling like the drive. My good friend R and her husband let me stay with them for a few days this week just to have a rest from the chaos of my parents’ house and to be near friends and church; it turned out that I didn’t catch up with any friends while I was there but it was still a nice time. R came with me to inspect a Christian share house on Saturday, the people were lovely but the house was too old for my liking. I don’t think I’d feel comfortable there, It’s a shame because I’d love to live with fellow Christians and I can’t seem to find anything through my church or a couple of bigger ones whose message boards I’ve had a look at. I hope I find somewhere suitable soon I really miss being close to everything.

(After a three hour break)

I just got back from L’s house, my first visit to where she is now living. It was a great night, lovely to see her. I need to start seeing friends more often and doing things in general. I get very bored sitting at home all day, I’ve been filling my time by reading and watching bad television. I’ve thought about getting a job since my health is so much better but I think it’s a bit too soon into my wellness to be doing that, more hospitalisations could be needed, after all I’ve only been out a week since my little admission and it’s only been six weeks since I’ve been generally well. I expect the good health to continue but it is still early days. There’s also the location to consider; if I get a job near my parents for convenience now and then move I’ll regret it and if I get one in the East and I can’t find a house over there for a long time I’ve got a lot of driving on my hands for a while. There’s also the risk that I’ll get accepted into a graduate diploma in education and will have to quit the job or beg for flexible hours. Oooo, I haven’t mentioned that yet… A few weeks ago I applied for that course, I found a uni which has the 12 month course and offers drama as a specialisation, I’ve applied to study part time, so it will actually take me two years but that’s better than the four years it would take me to do the two year course that seems to be everywhere else. Sadly I don’t think I’ll get into the course because I had to put in a very late direct application rather than going through VTAC. The uni offers places to VTAC applicants first and then if there are any left they look to the direct applicants. Not only do I have the lateness against me but my academic record from my undergrad is terrible, I was lazy and sick and so it took me six years to do a three year course and most semesters I was enrolled in four subjects, that means I failed or withdrew from about half of them!

I don’t have anything else to write about, well I can’t remember anything else to write about, there’s probably a lot I’ve forgotten which people are probably surprised I haven’t shared. Oh well, I have to cope with the poor memory and hope it gets better. If my Christian readers could pray for that I’d be appreciative and also that I get into the course, I really need something to fill my time and I think drama teaching would be a good career choice for me it would provide a stable job and I’d get to be creative, I’m good with youth too which is kind of necessary!

ECT maintenance # 2

Tomorrow will be my second maintenance ECT treatment, I feel like I need it. My mood has been declining a little each day and I think that that little spark will pick me up. On top of low mood I've felt completely empty, this is a typical borderline trait which I think is exacerbated by my unemployment and low study load. I've seen one friend this week for a lunch catch up and been to my parents to drop off my dog, other than that I've done nothing. I've just watched a few videos on youtube about ECT, I was curious to see what happened during the procedure, how visible the seizure is, what the doctors do while you're asleep and how long you're out for etc. I think it's different in Australia to the USA, although one of the videos was a little old and things have probably changed since then, it was still performed under anaesthetic but it looked primitive. ECT seems to be working for me, I need the weekly maintenance because my mood doesn't hold for the whole week, but I felt better for a few days after the last treatment and more so during and after the main treatments. The hope is that my mood will continue to improve to the point where the maintenance can be dropped down to fortnightly treatments, I currently don't have faith in that being enough to hold me, but maybe in the future. The only down side to ECT is the effect it's had on my memory, I've been embarrassed on a number of occasions where I can't remember peoples names, places I've been to often and times of events. Tonight I have bible study, I've already had to ask the address but I now need to ask the time, at least I don't have to pretend I know what's going on when I get there because I haven't been since prior to my hospital admission and they'll be studying something different now.

I made the decision to give up my dog on Tuesday as he's been destroying my house every time I leave him alone, I'm pretty sure it's separation anxiety. At my parents he still gets anxious but there's usually someone home, there's more chance with three of them living there and on the occasions he is left alone he's put outside and he can't destroy the window frames as he tries to get inside like he does at my house because my parents aren't wooden like mine. He can't be left inside or in/out with a dog door because he destroys things in the house. I hope my parents decide to keep him, I wouldn't like him to go to a strangers home where I'll never see him again. It's a shame I've had to give him up, he encouraged me to exercise and provided company when home alone, which is a lot at the moment because my new housemate stays out most nights and I don't have a second housemate yet so I'm alone all day, which is fine, but then at night I get a little scared because it's so quiet. I'm interviewing someone for the spare room this afternoon and another person on Sunday, they both sounded lovely on the phone so I hope one of them takes the room.

Awake

Guess who's out of hospital. Me!
My doctor wanted me to stay with my parents for a couple of days, so here I am in the West. It's very inconvenient because I'm interviewing people to fill the remaining spare room in my house. I wish I could turn back time and do whatever I could to keep my two previous housemates, my new one is great, very laid back and easy to get along with but it's proving difficult to fill the remaining room, I've even had a couple of fraudsters from overseas saying they'll take it and asking for addresses to send cheques to, I don't know what they'd do after that but I guess it's some means of getting bank account details. I've got the room paid for until the 15th of August, after that I'm totally screwed.

I'm having my first maintenance ECT on Friday, I'm actually looking forward to it - sick I know, but I love the feeling of the anaesthetic taking effect, I can empathise with Michael Jackson's addiction, though I don't think 10 minutes a week is going to develop into a full addiction...

This is the latest I've been up in months, being out of hospital has produced difficulty sleeping, last night was a fairly late one too, nothing like this though (it's currently 1:46am) I'm currently listening to the cats playing and wondering what else I can write about - uni! that'll do. I missed class last week due to my hospitalisation, I'll make it this week but I'm very behind and it's only week three. We're supposed to hand in a script idea this week, I've got nothing and I need at least a distinction average so I can later switch into research. 2:08am

I've been thinking lately that I'd really like a new boyfriend, someone to share this shit with, someone to create new non-shit memories with and generally share life. I'm sick of being alone. I hope I don't have to wait until I've lost my 30kg of drug weight before someone will look at me twice. I've learnt a lot in the last few years of singleness and looked back on my previous relationship and seen many of the mistakes I made. I think I could make a good girlfriend now. 2:19am

Right now I can't sleep and I feel frustrated and hopeless, I want to take every pill in this house, which is a lot, and includes cancer drugs but I'm being a good girl and abstaining from anything that will send me back to hospital (or the grave)

Sorry for an unexciting post, I just felt like writing. 2:34am

Fright

I know I said I wasn't posting anymore but I feel like I have no outlet without the blog. My parents now know about it thanks to a friend telling my mum, she had my best interests at heart though. So because my parents know about it you can expect me to be a little less candid, I've never been very open with them and I'm not about to start now.

I'm back in hospital having more ECT, this time I'll be having maintenance which means that once a week to once a fortnight I'll go to the hospital for one session, it will be done as an outpatient so I don't have to stay over once a week or anything.

I'm having a tough time at the moment, both of my housemates decided to move out, my overdose is at least partly responsible, I scared them off. No one wants to come home to a corpse and I think that's what concerns them. So basically I totally fucked up by taking that last overdose. I don't think I'll take another one for the purpose of being unconscious. There are other reasons to do it, but I don't feel that way at the moment. Because of this situation I'm pretty depressed and I have the classic borderline hollowness, it's like being filled with air with nails floating around inside you and occasionally one of those nails pierces an organ or bangs into the abdominal wall causing a sharp pain. There is not one positive emotion in me, I suppose I have to take ownership of the borderline label since I embody it. I can't get in to DBT until January so I'm stuck being a crazy borderline until then.

If you can please visit me, we can go down the street to a nice cafe, it doesn't need to be a boring hospital visit. I get pretty lonely, there's one girl who talks to me in passing and L is there but she wants some space. So visitors would be grand.

Goodbye

This blog worries people too much, it was supposed to be an outlet for me and my (often) dark thoughts and feelings. I think it's time for it to come to an end. If anyone is concerned about me just ask and I'll be honest unless I don't think you really want the truth.

Goodbye.
K.

Shared Care

I made it through Monday night all by my self, but the same can't be said for yesterday. I cut my arm and took a reasonable sized overdose, sadly it wasn't enough for me to lose consciousness but it did sedate me and make the afternoon / night fly. I may have drifted off, but the nurses said nothing about it. I don't remember blood being taken, which apparently they did, so maybe I did drift off. Mum has forced me to stay with them for a couple of days until I'm back on my feet, probably a good idea since I'm not walking too straight or breathing very well.

I saw my psychiatrist this afternoon, he'd received a report from the hospital I went to detailing what I'd taken and my psych assessment; he's decided it's time for me to have a case manager, I'm not yet sure what this will involve, they were supposed to contact me this afternoon but haven't. But basically my psych wants my care to be shared between him, the case manager, my psychologist and my outreach worker, oh and he wants me to do DBT which I'm more than a little disappointed about, I thought we'd got past the borderline diagnosis. He's also decided to stop prescribing PRN medications (medications I take when I need them) since they're the ones I abuse, this will make life very tough when I do really need them and will in turn increase my self harm, not a wise move.

I am Woman Hear me Cry

I'm just hanging on at the moment, today has been a big one. I had my psychiatrist appointment at 10, he decided to keep me out of hospital if possible but I'm seeing him again on Wednesday - he's too expensive to see that often - and he's referred me to the women's mental health service because he suspects there's some hormonal shit going on. The women's mental health service actually looks good, I went to their website today to see what to expect; they are a team of two female psychiatrists who do a consult of an hour minimum and try to get to the bottom of why you have these problems and then write a big meaty letter back to your referring doctor offering suggestions, basically they're a specialised second opinion service. I got back from my appointment to find L packing, she's now back in hospital after a rapid decline in her own mental state in the last couple of weeks but especially in the last few days. I'm not so self centered that I think it's my fault, I just hope me being home from hospital hasn't put undue stress on her, I've only been out five days and now she's gone.

I don't know what to do with myself tonight, I want to behave and not worry people and leave my body alone but I have enough meds for an overdose and they are shouting my name. I also have sharps and the temptation is there to use them. I need more friends who I'm comfortable asking to come over and hang at a moments notice. If anyone wants to come over tonight you're very welcome we can watch a DVD and eat chocolate.

Rattle and Dice

Well here I am, awake at 6:43am. I actually woke at 4 something, tried getting back to sleep, tried Ulysses - I'm not actually reading that to force sleep, I want to read it - and now I'm drinking rooibos and vanilla tea and recovering from brushing Rico (the dog), I couldn't find the muzzle so it had to be done very carefully.

I'm seeing my doctor in a few hours and I don't expect him to be dancing around the room with joy upon hearing what I've got to say. My hobbies of the last few days have consisted of not sleeping, staring at walls, yelling at Rico, snapping at my mum and eating very little due to complete loss of appetite and feeling unwell. I was going to take a small overdose yesterday (it's all I have) but then mum called wanting to go out for lunch (Rico had mine). I went to church zoned out for most of it and then went across the road to Safeway to buy some sharps and dressings, then God showed up in the form of two of my closest friends (they're married to each other) from church. I bumped into them at the register and before I had time to hide the contents of my basket I'd been found out. They were gracious enough not to say anything there and instead invited me over for dinner; I accepted, it seemed like a better offer than going home and slicing up my arm, plus I like them. We hung out for a couple of hours, talked about my failed admission and they gently raised the razors issue. I should have agreed to leave them there, but I was in the mindset of needing just to have them in my possession. They prayed for me, God got lots of prayers about me yesterday because a bunch of people met up before church to pray for me too. I know it may seem like it doesn't work but I'd say bumping into those two last night was an answer to prayer for my safety and I'm yet to see the results of their prayers.

My friends drove me home because my vision had gone very blurry, once here I got ready for bed and intended to go straight there, the razors got in the way (sorry friends) I went a little overboard but nothing requiring stitches. I then got a few hours sleep and have now given up on the idea. If this continues I might teach myself Latin, I wouldn't know where to begin, but it would open up a whole literary world to me. I'm furious that I'm too dumb to read Ulysses (James Joyce's this is), well it's not that I'm too dumb, I just haven't had the right education. If my school English teacher were reading this she would say that I couldn't even get a firm grasp of English let alone Latin. My old school teaches it now, too late for me but I'm glad they saw the need for it.

I don't know what else to write, I seem to be angering people with my posts lately and I fear I've overlooked something with this one which will cause someone greif. I'm sorry but please remember what I've got to work with at the moment, a severely depressed, sleep deprived and hungry (although not feeling it, but I must be) body

Home

It's been a while since I last wrote, as a consequence for self harming in hospital the nurses kicked me out of my private room and made me share. I don't share well, I'm an intensely private person and I need to be in control of the noises surrounding me, this is impossible in a shared room especially when the room mate likes to watch TV, my second room mate (I moved twice) really felt the cold and had the heater on full constantly, that wasn't the worst part though, she used a heat pack because she was really really cold, she over heated the pack and it smelled strongly of soggy wheat. She was very nice and would have been good to share with if it wasn't for the smell and heat.

This is day two out of hospital and I've succeeded in freaking out my housemate/friend L by going out without telling her when I wasn't supposed to be driving at all until tomorrow. I'm used to having housemates who don't give a damn about me, not friends who'd actually care if I went missing so it didn't even cross my mind to leave a note or keep my phone with me. I don't like to be shackled to my phone, I'm not its slave, though sometimes it would be better if I was.

A bunch of people from my church met up before the service on Sunday to pray for me, both for my mental health and spiritual health and I think it's worked. I've been praying a lot more and feeling for people; I've also been a lot more emotional but I think that's the ECT's fault. I've cried at things that really aren't sad, smiled at things that previously wouldn't even turn my head and I find myself choked up several times a day at only slightly emotional things, it's refreshing to feel emotion on this level, but I hope it doesn't last, I don't want to be a big ball of emotion.

I was in hospital for 10 weeks and 1 day, I'm very glad to be out, but I feel a little lost...