How low can you go?

What a shitty week. It’s been good, but bad. I wasn’t going to but I met up with some twitter friends on Monday for lunch. I knew people would be drinking so I wasn’t going to go because i know the frame of mind I’m in right now, drink is not a good idea. I went, knowing that I was going to drink, knowing that I would have a fun time, knowing that when I got home I would attempt suicide or at least harm myself in some way. It was my plan. Not "the" carefully considered suicide plan but an adapted one. I was ok with that.

Lunch was fab, everyone was on fine form and those few of us that were left got very drunk. Even managed to drag the remaining tweeter to Raffles which was funny. Bit of a long standing joke. Cue the end of night and walking home knowing I was about to die. I was fine with it. Then I thought maybe they’d think they’d done something to make me do it. None of them had. It was a good day. I felt fine thinking I’d be dying on a high.

For some reason I called nhs24 and spoke to a lovely woman. By this time I was distraught and wanting to die but asking for help anyway. A lovely doctor came out to see me and I’d had over 2 months worth of Inderal popped out into a glass with a large glass water next to it. He tried to admit me to ward 2 so ambulance came and took me to QMH I kept apologizing because they should’ve been out saving someone that wants to be saved. The doc said I was the girl who always apologises haha and the ambulance guy just kept telling me they were saving me tonight.

After assessment on the ward I was sent home, they had no beds, guess they hoped it was just the drink and that’s why I’d tried and some sobering up time would help? A friend called after seeing my tweet just after 4am while I was waiting on taxi and spoke to me till I was ready for bed. I had an appt with Hillview the next day so my counsellor had the report. I still have lots of suicidal and self-harm thoughts and they don’t realize I got drunk so I’d be brave enough to do it. I didn’t do it because I was drunk. I’d planned it but part of me obviously wanted to live and I called for help.

The next day I saw my doc and was signed off for a month so I had to tell my work what was going on. Seriously, it’d be a lot less hassle for everyone if I just got on with it already. I saw Hillview again on Friday and will be seeing her on Monday after an appt with my Psychiatrist. I have had another rough night of waking up crying several times. I dreamt of my mum and dad, and our dogs Laddie and Patch, all whom have passed, my dad gave me such a cuddle I couldn’t stop crying and it’s making me start again I miss him so much. I kept asking where Malc was and can’t remember what they were saying, did I see him in a different dream? I feel like I did? I need to know he’s ok. I need to know he’s not mad at me and I need to know if he’ll forgive me and if I can move on. Part of me is now thinking they’re here because they know my time is short and they’re here for me. Are they? Or were they here to comfort me to help me through this that I will see them again someday but not quite yet? At the moment I’m thinking it’s option number 1.

I have to go to my best pal’s birthday party tonight. It’s a cocktail party so it’s glitz and glam which I’m gonna have to fake and put a smile on. I’m sure it’ll be fine but I’m dreading it all the same.

music and lyrics

My Immortal by Evanescence http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEfxu-JNxjU
Was on Kerrang today and I just had to keep listening over and over. Looking over the lyrics, they ring so true. They’d mean many things to different people but to me it pretty much sums up my relationship with Malc.
It’s not a revelation to me, I’ve always thought this. I’d known him since I was 18, we met at college. Started dating when I was 21 and were together for 13 years. He died just over 4 years ago now but is still with me everyday and colours many areas of my life and how I feel about myself. I don’t want him to never be watching over me but he has left deep wounds and not just from his passing.
In the start we were best friends, it grew into more, I couldn’t get enough of him and vice versa. I knew I’d end up with him long before we actually got together despite me knocking him back a few times(he took drugs, in those days I couldn’t have taken him home to meet my parents).
Our relationship was probably not a healthy one and although I’ve no doubt we loved each other, maybe it was too destructive, I began self-harming and became so mentally ill I thought I was going mad. He was almost always there for me though, as I was always there for him and he’ll always be part of me but now I have to look ahead for a new song, for a new life, for construction not destruction. I have to change this cycle. I don’t want to leave him and it wont be easy, god know the last four years haven’t been easy but it's maybe time to move on. Maybe.

venting is healthy

on another note, i met a pal for lunch today and walking home along a very, very busy road at peak time we decided to vent our frustration by screaming at the tops of our lungs and stomping our feet. i'm 38, she's 46. it was fab just getting it all out in one primal scream. you should try it sometime.

awesomeness personified

Well it’s been a rough number of days. I haven’t been coping well and so I’ve been using the old zolpidem and diazepam combo to knock me out again and again and again. For days. Only waking long enough to take more. It’s frightening how much I got through. Yesterday changed though, somehow I found enough fight to get up and say no more. Being wednesday I was supposed to go to zumba in the evening but the amount of diazepam I take when I’m like that leaves me zonked for a few days after I surface. What I did do though was start watching Star Trek. I’d ordered the box set of ten films and it came on Tuesday. I can’t tell you why that changed things but I’m glad it did. I watched the first four films and I have tell you I love them as much now as every other time I’ve watched them. Captain Kirk is a God. Watching the films perked me up no end, he’s just so, so awesome, as are the rest of the cast and I think in future when things are bad I’ll escape into sci-fi until I can face real life again. That way I’m indulging a passion and not hurting anyone, least of all myself. I found the above pic online ages ago and i don't know who's responsible for it but i want it on a t-shirt so i'm going to go hunt for it. Thank-you Captain, i worship at your feet.

still in control

I gave in last night. I cut myself. I wasn’t particularly distraught, I hadn’t been drinking, nothing else had happened that sent me over the edge. I just did it. I mean I wasn’t in the best of moods. I was low, very low, but still felt in control, I was very calm about the whole thing. I decided to cut because I just wanted to stop fighting it, that’s all. It’s all I’ve been thinking about lately and I just thought what the hell. I felt numb and thought if I did it then maybe I’d at least feel something. I didn’t though. I didn’t get the usual release or satisfaction from it which I suppose is a good sign because if I’m getting nothing from it then why do it? I’m not even upset at myself for giving in to it. It’s been over 3 years since I last cut myself so i know I should think I’m an arse for giving in this time but I just don’t care. I’m not saying this means anything, that self-harm’s lost its hold over me, because I know I can quite easily give in when I’m distraught, or when I’ve been drinking and someone looks at me the wrong way, and lets face it life isn’t plain sailing so the next time I’m upset I could fall back into it easily. That will be the challenge, the real test. This time it wasn’t too big a deal. In my eyes anyway.

that'll do nicely

I broke down at work today, thinking about my mum. I couldn’t stop crying although I was holding back because my boss was in the room. She died at the end of May but it’s only now the reality is sinking in. When we finished work I got the bus up town instead of walking home, I just didn’t have it in me. I went to the shops and bought a knife. Not my usual brand, they didn’t have those, but one that will suffice. It’s all I’ve been thinking about but I haven’t used it yet.

So......

It’s taking all I have not to cut myself today.

When will i write about something good or happy? Not today. I’m struggling. Big time. I’ve been on the verge of tears for days and my mood has grown progressively worse. Granted, my eating habits lately haven’t helped but I have still been walking to and from work which is an hour every day, and I was out with a friend for dinner last night, so why am I so bad today that all I can think about is cutting myself? I haven’t done it in a long time, but it’s like an addiction it never really goes away, I don’t have the right knife to do it but I have used other things in the past.
Today I locked myself in the bathroom on the English corridor, sat down on the floor and cried for ages. I knew I wouldn’t be disturbed, it is the holidays after all, and not many people are in school who would use that bathroom since it’s out the way. It reminded me of my last year at uni, where circumstances and the fact I had no close friends doing honours meant I spent many morning breaks doing exactly what I did today. I would go to one of the less used bathrooms, lock myself in a cubicle and just lean against the door or sit until next class. Not many good memories that year I’m afraid and in fact my depression got so bad I dropped out half way through the year.
Tonight I should be at zumba, which I love, but I’m not going despite the fact I know it would probably do me good. It’s the thought of putting on a happy face to friends whilst there, I just can’t do it. I’ll try the happy face thing tomorrow and maybe even the happy writing thing too. Wish me luck.

maybe tomorrow

In May I started seeing a herbalist so I could go on an anti-candida diet. The aim was to improve my eating habits, help my mood and lower my anxiety, to hopefully have better sleep and generally feel better and have more energy. I know this restrictive diet has these effects because I did it about 7 years ago.
For 3 weeks I was super strict, followed the regimen to the letter. I was feeling better, in control, and enjoying eating well. Then my mum died and for the first few days staying at my sister’s I kept to the diet but the day before the funeral things changed. Through June and July I have tried to regain control but keep faltering, the willpower is just not there. Ok, I’ve got an excuse, but still.
Take this weekend for example, it’s by far the worst I’ve strayed from the diet since I started it. I’ve had a whole chocolate cake, umpteen packets of wotsits, big bar cadbury’s caramel, I’ve had fizzy juice, wine, white bread, cheese, super noodles. Tonight I had half a chinese chicken curry and a bag of chicken balls, half a big bag of popcorn and a large bar of fruit and nut. ALL of which I should not be eating.
It’s not like a normal diet to lose weight, I don’t believe in them, it’s a diet to rid my body of yeast, sugar being one of the things which feeds the yeast making it prolific and problematic. See why I shouldn’t be eating ANY of these things? It’s this self-destruct button. I know following the diet will make my life so much easier but that part of me says “fuck you, you don’t deserve to feel good and be happy” so I sabotage myself not just a little bit, oh no, I go all out. Of course, eating all that food isn’t good for you so I throw most of it back up which is sooo much fun and makes me more miserable. Doing this makes me feel a failure and so I struggle with willpower and it just goes round in circles. Yay me! Tomorrow I will endeavour to start again and possibly start a new circle of good things. Maybe.

self-destruct in t minus………

I have a self-destruct button, you probably do too. Ask yourself, you know it’s there, that part of you that sabotages anything good in your life. We probably all have one but I’m sure some people are more aware of it than others.
I can’t remember exactly when I first pushed mine but sometimes I feel the countdown tick, tick, ticking away and the impending destruction drawing ever nearer. Sometimes I think the ticking has stopped, things will be going well, I’ll feel somewhat in control of my life. Not content, but happy with how things are. Still wanting more, like a boyfriend a driving licence a holiday a nicer place to live, but without these things still feeling happy with my lot.
When I’m in that place I can’t help myself I push it again. I don’t even know I’ve done it sometimes until I realise I’m in trouble and i look back and think, yet again, I’ve brought it on myself. I have this belief buried deep, deep down inside of me that I don’t deserve to be happy which is crazy right? I can say to myself over and over I deserve happiness as much as the next person but I don’t believe it. And that’s where the problem lies. You can tell me, quite a few have, that I deserve to be happy till you’re blue in the face and I will agree with you very convincingly but inside my brain’s going “yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah” does any of this seem familiar? I can’t be the only one?
Sometimes it’s very subtle like being increasingly late for work, slowly dropping out of contact with people. Might not seem much but when you end up stressed because you’re late you feel a failure because normal people can get into work on time. Withdrawing into isolation allows agoraphobia to take hold again and the next thing you know you’re off work for months. There are more obvious signs of self-destruction like over-eating and drinking then making myself sick, self-harm, hurting people around me so they hate me so I can hate myself. I could go on.
My button has had me in various stages of self-destruction, the worst time I was close to death, right on the edge. I took an overdose and they didn’t know if I would pull through, it was 50/50 but somehow I did and I still wonder why.
Lately things have gotten bad and I realised I must’ve pressed it again because things were going well and maybe I was getting too cocky so I had to take myself down a peg or two. Heaven forbid something goes right in my life! How far will this countdown take me? i dont know, time will tell. At least i realise i'm doing it when i'm doing it, i just dont have the inclination or the willpower to stop myself yet, but i will, and that's the important bit eh? Hopefully sooner rather than later Tina.

he's just not that into you

it's sat night, i woke up this morning and couldn't face the day so i stayed in bed till lunchtime, not sleeping, but wishing i could just sleep the day away. my phone had rung several times and i ignored it, didn't want to speak to anyone. It was my brother and i figured he would keep calling if i didn't respond in some way. i texted him and said i wasn't in a good way and that i'd prob be in bed all day. he tried calling again. he then sent a text saying it was a shame cos he was in dunfermline and had something he wanted to drop off.
ok Tina, get up.
he came round for a cuppa and gave me a money pot for my birthday. it's really sweet, a pot of dreams it's called. anyways we had a blether and he went home.
i was still feeling shit.
i'd tried reaching out to some friends but to no avail. i appear to have done something to weird out my best friend cos she's been funny with me all week.
one friend responded but she's going through a hellish time too and i knew she had plans but at least she acknowledged she couldn't be much help.
i had tweeted earlier when i was in bed but couldn't get on twitter so when i later checked i had messages of support from friends on there. funny how people you've never met can give more support than your nearest and dearest.
i haven't showered today and in fact put my pyjamas on when i got up and have been in them all day but i don't care. i've done nothing apart from watch films and tweet. i have eaten nothing but junk today which i realise is a warning sign and my mood is getting worse again so the fight is back on. as if wanting to stay in bed wasn't a loud enough warning bell!
so i watched "He's Just Not That Into You" i'd seen it at the cinema with the girls and really enjoyed it. It's a good film with a lot of interesting points. i've fallen for a lot of the shit that the female lead has fallen for and it makes me wonder why people play so many mind games. i mean why cant we just say "i like you" or "no thanks" it's way worse to be strung along until you're severely pissed off and there's no hope of you ever remaining friends. i think i might watch it periodically whenever i'm watching my phone for texts or checking my e-mail or even when i'm looking out for someone on twitter if that ever leads to the possibility of meeting someone. after watching it i logged into bebo and sent a message to my family saying i'm never on it and that i was deleting my account. so i did, because at one point in the film drew barrymore's character talks about having to check so many things to see if he's been in touch that being let down by so much technology is exhausting. i can relate. so i'm reducing the technology with which i can be disappointed by.
i used to say to guys who asked for my number "i'll be here next week, if you're here then we'll talk" probably bit callous but realistic, i didn't want to give my number out to just anyone. what happened to that girl? I've been used, and my mind has been played with too many times and now i've just about had enough. whenever i feel i'm driving myself crazy with the "will he text?" i'm gonna watch it and remind myself that if he really is that into me then i wouldn't be fretting about it cos he would already be in touch.

men, pfftt

i'm so sick of guys. what the fuck did i ever do to get this life?

today i'm annoyed because a 'friend' has been texting and i'm annoyed at him only texting when he's bored. it's not like that, we’re not having sex. we've kissed but it was only a drunken snog, it didn’t mean anything. i'm angry because for the last few years he would only get in touch when he broke up with his girlfriend, she didn't like him having friends, let alone a female one. She thought we had history. Yeah, we do, he was one of my boyfriend’s best pals! I asked him to take a cord at the funeral. In the 1st year I wrongly thought I’d be able to talk to him and I’m angry he wasn’t there for me cos we were friends too, and now he gets in touch every so often and I just think “fuck you! What? You’ve split up again?” and then I have to listen to his woes. And I do it cos I’m a fucking idiot. That, and there is a bit more history and I feel like he thinks I like him as more than a friend (which I don’t, I hadn’t had a snog for ages!! ) so when he texts it’s like he’s getting an ego boost and he really needs to get over himself.

Then there’s this guy I liked who gave me his number when my mum died and said if I needed to talk to use it. We got chatting and things were going ok, he liked me too. I started telling friends about this guy I liked and that we were gonna go out when things settled down. Yeah things have settled down, so settled in fact I hardly hear from him. What the actual fuck???? Why give me your number? I just don’t get it? He’s been quiet on social networking too which is where I met him, he said he’d been feeling down so maybe it’s not just me but I’m still thinking “eh?” I mean I’ve met him in person twice on nights out now and there’s chemistry but I’m now so in the dark and it’s doing my head in.

Over the last few years EVERY guy I’ve met has been a dick so what am I doing that I’m attracting them? There’s not been many, but they have been arses. This on the back of being with a guy for 13 years who treated me like shit. So how do I change this? Or ARE all men bastards? Answers on a postcard please!

6th July. 4 years on...

ultimately we're alone. i have friends, i have family, i have colleagues but no-one really cares. i mean they care, but not till it's too late, till after the fact. till after i've done something to myself and then they say why didn't she ask for help? why did she do it? i didn't ask for help cos you've not been in my shoes, you dont understand, you have no idea what i've been through. you know what happened but you don't know. it's not that easy to move on, yes everyone dies, yes you've lost people too but until you tell me your one person has killed themselves in the means that you tried to, that they used your tablets to do this, that they left a letter, not a suicide note, a letter, which contains all their pain. until you tell me this then you don't know. until you tell me this you wont know that i wont ask for help because i feel i deserve all this pain. i wont ask for help because there's nothing you can say that will make me feel better. telling me to move on does not help. saying he's not there at the cemetary, he's in your heart, does not help. i know these things but going brings me comfort so let me do it. wait until you've lost your one person then tell me to move on. but you won't, because then you'll know some of it. it takes as long as it takes to grieve for someone, this you'll know. you may visit the cemetary or crem or special places because you feel closer to them when you're there, this you'll know. when people tell you to move on, you'll say it's only been (however long) and then one day you'll agree you need to but still wont be able to, this you'll know. everyone's experience is different but until you've tried on some of my shoes, you wont know, then when you do it'll be a whole different ballgame. maybe then i'll tell you to move on, maybe then i'll say "why are you doing that? it's not helping" maybe i wont because by then, i'll be like everyone else, i wont care.

what am i feeling?

What to say? My mum died and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
Yesterday I went with flowers to the cemetery where my ex is buried and I sat there for some time hoping some emotion would rise. It did, but not what I expected.

Anger.

I know it’s a part of the grieving process, I was angry at so many things. The main feelings of anger were at my ex for having left me here alone, but even then I had this rage that for being with him 13 years and it now being almost 4 years since he passed, that I’m sitting at the grave of someone who lied, cheated and made me feel like a worthless piece of shit. I know he loved me, he just didn’t treat me well, and I let him. Cue the anger at myself. I left the graveside but found a bench where I sat for over an hour waiting till I felt I could come home and stay safe that I wouldn’t act on my anger and hurt myself.

I know I’ll go back and visit the grave again but yesterday I honestly thought “I’m over it, this is stupid” I told my best friend this today and she high-fived me. She doesn’t think going there helps me and doesn’t understand what it does for me. Does it still help me? I don’t know anymore. Guess I’ll find out in time.

where'd 3months go?

So today I had to go into work for a meeting to discuss my occupational health referral. I’ve been off sick since feb, 3 months, with depression and anxiety. Before that I was off frequently with migraines and what felt like every bug going. My mood was getting worse and I found myself back in that place I wished I’d never been. Severely depressed and anxious with thoughts of self-harm and suicide. Not a happy place at all.

I was isolating myself, not seeing much of friends or family, getting little enjoyment when I did. I was eating junk food, chocolate and cakes like they were going out of fashion and generally had no self-respect or self-control. I didn’t care enough about myself to give myself a break.

In feb I saw my doc and we agreed a spell off work to get myself together was best so I phoned work, promised it wouldn’t be for long and here I am 3 months later. Loser.
I said I had self-help books to read, relaxation cd’s to listen to, that I would eat better and exercise and although my drinking wasn’t at a level it’s been at in the past, that I would stop drinking. I’d do whatever it took to get healthy and back to work.

How many of these did I actually do? No concentration so the books were useless. Relaxation cd’s came in handy sometimes but weren’t used often. As for eating, well I hated myself so by over-eating I was feeding into my self-hatred, bingeing a lot of the time and making myself sick. I drank with friends and usually got fairly drunk. Bad idea when you suffer from depression and anxiety. After a lot to drink the next couple days my anxiety would be through the roof and thoughts of self-harm were predominant.

Some mornings I would wake up, think to myself I can’t do this, I don’t want to live or that I would harm myself so to keep myself safe I would knock back a sleeping tablet and a few diazepam and knock myself out till I felt I could cope. Not a good coping mechanism but I’m still here and I’m safe and through this episode at least, unscathed.

So what changed? I really don’t know. I’m sure my ex Malcolm was part of why I got so bad but not for the reasons you may think. That’s for another day. I was seeing my GP, my psychologist and also my keyworker at the hospital. At some point I found my fight again. It’s still not fully up to par but it’s getting there. I’ve started exercising more with a new friend I met on twitter. I’m eating well and have stopped drinking because I saw a herbalist and am now on a restrictive anti-candida diet. I’m getting support from medical professionals, friends, family and my work have been very patient.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been off long term sick. I hope it’s the last. I start back june14th if all goes well. It’ll be a phased return, building hours gradually till full time. We discussed this at the meeting and agreed to figure out the details when I go back. In the meantime I’ll continue to do what I’m doing and hope to remain well enough to go back. I know that day I’ll be a nervous wreck just like today. I barely slept and can I just say my stomach was dodgy, but once I got there I was ok. It’s never as bad as you think it’s going to be. I would adopt that as my motto if it weren’t for the fact that sometimes life does get as bad as I think, at least that’s how it feels.

Life is a Rollercoaster

My life is a disaster area, I have come to the conclusion that no good can come of it. I would end it, and I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. Not because I’m a coward but because I’ve put my family through enough and I promised them I wouldn’t. Promises are made to be broken though right?

I’ve had my fair share of shit and probably a few other people’s too, at least that’s what it feels like. I’m a government statistic in several aspects of my life but I don’t think of myself as a ‘woe is me’ type of person. I moan, I cry, I scream and I lash out but I usually laugh at myself more than anyone.

I’m writing this to get all the shit in my head out in the vain hope it helps. I’m not really expecting anyone to read it but since it’s out there that’s a possibility. I have this notion that it’d be more private than a journal. Journals are found and read, and even though anyone could read this, it won’t matter because the people I love are unlikely to, and they’re the ones who’d be hurt by it.

Don’t be mistaken, my life isn’t all bad. There’s a lot of good so this isn’t all doom and gloom. What it will be is random. My moods fluctuate and are rollercoaster-tastic so this shit will be all over the place. I’m not writing this so someone reading says “oh I’m so sorry” at the bad stuff. I’m not writing it to get pity. That’s why I’m telling no-one I know about it. I’m just trying to process stuff.

If anything? Kick my ass. I need it.