18/8/15

I don't know where to start. This lonely, sad, excuse for an existence is pathetic. I cut myself today. First time since? I'm back on sleeping tablets. I thought taking them during Gishwhes I'd be able to keep them under control but Gishwhes is over and I'm back to my shitty hopeless life. Avoiding almost everyone and everything. There's no one friend I would burden this with. They wouldn't be pleased to hear that but I've lost friends in the past for no reason so why give them my woes and alienate them? I don't know why I'm still here. I should just do myself in. Isn't that what I'm aiming for? Aren't I doing that anyway? Slowly sure but it's happening. Poisoning my body. Going out of my mind. How much longer can I last? 

Just a shell

I look in the mirror and there's so much self hatred. A look of disgust I would reserve only for the worst of mankind so why do I look at myself like that? I can't stand it for too long so I avoid it as much as possible. After using the bathroom I wash my hands. There's a mirror above the sink but I rarely look up because I don't want to see what's looking back at me. I don't even recognise myself anymore. Where did I lose myself? Where am I? Where have I gone? I'm just a bitter husk of a person long gone. 

Haunted

So it's 9 yrs. Your words still haunt me. You still haunt me. So many times I've wished I had succeeded and you subsequently failed or never tried. I'm really feeling it this year. Visceral pain. My emotions are so raw they want to explode out of me, I feel like my skin's crawling, brain burning, it's not right. I shouldn't feel this raw but it's the first year I've not been self-medicating in some way or on medication for depression. I'm here today with nothing pharmaceutical or alcohol-wise to back me up, to numb or block out the pain entirely. I'm still new to emotions, I've held them so deep for so long, even before you, that I'm still too scared to let them loose. 

You manipulated that. You didn't let me grieve, you criticised when I was depressed, you goaded me into anger and frustration, made me feel like I was going off my head and it was all me. You made your friends, OUR friends, believe I was crazy. The only thing that was crazy was me staying, but you'd backed me into a corner of isolation and craziness, doubting myself, unable to ask for help. I had nowhere to go and you made me believe that too, you only gave me enough to keep me believing things would get better when, really, that was never going to happen. You treated me like shit. You really did. I didn't deserve what you put me through, what you're still putting me through. Or maybe I do, I don't know why though. I don't know what I did except fall for the wrong guy. 

The wrong guy who should've just been a friend or a brief boyfriend, but turned into a 13 year relationship. 

The wrong guy who hurt me so much when alive and continues to hurt me today after your passing.

The wrong guy who I sometimes hate so much but still love and miss. 

Whatever really happened that night, when so much went wrong and left us with no real explanation as to why you died, I hope you're at peace now. I'm not. 

You got your wish. 

Father's Day

I'm sure I'm like everyone else at the moment getting daily emails of "It's not too late to get that perfect Father's Day gift!" Ugggghh. 

After twelve years it still hurts, I'm right back at his bedside frightened to hold his hand because I was scared of hurting him. 

It's the same with Mother's Day for the past five years. 

I know Mother's Day and Father's Day are a big deal, parents should be celebrated, my mum loved getting flowers and gifts. My dad was humble and didn't like fuss made of him but with seven kids Father's Day would never go by without us making some fuss.  

Now those days are just ones I'd rather avoid. I avoid places because it's a kick in the gut every time I pass a card shop. Much like Christmas, it's so commercialised. It didn't bother me until the first Father's Day a few months after he died. I couldn't not buy him a card, I couldn't. So I bought one, wrote it out and sealed it. I keep it in a box with other mementos. I don't like Christmas anymore either, it's just too hard. 

I feel so lost without my parents. After Dad died I'd lost my favourite person, I was always a daddy's girl. My life has fallen apart since then. I know most think it's because of Malc's death but it started long before that, it started the day the doctors told us my dad had a rare complication from the Polcystic Kidney Disease he had and there was nothing they could do for him. It triggered a landslide that buried me, and I'm still trying to scramble a way through. 

My birthday's coming up and I hate that too because the next day would be my parents anniversary and a couple of days after that there's something else, but I don't think they do a card for Dead Boyfriend. It'll be nine years. It just tops things off nicely. A hat-trick so to speak. 

Happy Father's Day when it comes Dad. 

You were my sunshine. X

May the Force Be With You, It's Not With Me.

It's Star Wars day. May 4th. I've loved Star Wars ever since my brother took me to see a Star Wars/Empire Strikes Back double bill for my birthday many moons ago. We watched them yesterday, along with Return of the Jedi, it was a great day, if a day early! 

Today's not so great a day. I'm struggling. 

I really want to hurt myself. 

I really want to break things. 

I really want to curl into a ball and cry my eyes out. 

I really want to hurt myself badly. 

I really want to do these things and then take some tablets and knock myself out. 

My emotions are overwhelming today and I feel like I'm going under. I came out to Costa in the hope of distraction and now I find myself crying and fearful I'm going to let loose all the emotion inside and just explode in a mess of tears and self-harm. No-one will care if I do, I've been in similar states in the past and most people just walk on by without concern (there have been a couple of times people have talked me down, literally). Guess that's where I'm different. If I see someone upset I ask if I can help, do they need anything? If they look or talk like they're contemplating hurting themselves I will call for help and stay with them until I know they're ok. I feel like I'm one of a dying breed of people who actually care about the wellbeing of people I don't know, it just seems the human thing to do, to show compassion for others. It feels like our world is lacking in the compassion department. I don't know why I'm saying this, it's not like I am really the only person who cares, I'm not a brilliant person, I deserve no credit. So I have compassion, big fucking deal, what do I want? A medal? Fuck off. 

I have little compassion for myself. Suicide is never far from my own mind. I'm thinking about it a lot today. I won't make a scene though, I'm not seeking attention, I'm just trying to stay alive and I'm trying to do it without needing someone to intervene. 

I'm sleeping on my brother's couch at the moment. I've been staying with my brother and sister on and off for quite some time for various reasons, mental health problems being one of them, so I could go back there rather than sit here but they don't really understand the extent of my mental health problems or why it manifests the way it does, so if I go back and start crying or they see signs of self-harm they don't really know how to handle it and I just feel more hopeless and useless.

So I'm sat in Costa Coffee in the Victoria Hospital, typing this, trying to bury my emotions. Where do I go? Hide in a toilet? Go to the chapel? Go to A&E? Stay here with my head down? I'm scared to move from this seat because if I decide to move and don't know where I'm going I may well do something I'll regret. Or  maybe I'll do something I've always felt inevitable. I guess I'll be sitting here a while. Staying safe is the aim right? 

Don't look at me

Thought.

Thoughts that were once focused on suicide were turned towards a future, one I thought obtainable, brighter, with possibilities of achievements there for the taking. They were fleeting. My thoughts turn yet again to my life being pointless with nothing to offer. 

The point is?

What's the point in talking to someone who just does not understand or want to hear about your mental health problems? 

What's the point, when you say you're self-harming and suicidal, asking for help, and they dismiss you for being stupid?

What's the point in trying to share the impact mental illness has on your life in a vain attempt to explain why you can't leave the house, why you don't bathe for weeks at a time, why you don't eat, why you can't concentrate, why you seem to disappear for months on end, why you lose so many friends, why you can't function at all? 

What's the point, when you try talking about how bad you feel and they sit quietly, then when you pause, after revealing a fraction of your tortured soul, they just get up and walk away to do something else? 

What's the point in trying to end the stigma attached to mental health so you can talk to people when all it does is alienate those who find it all very uncomfortable to hear?

What's the point in fighting every single day to stay alive so you don't hurt the people you love but they hurt you by not being there when you need them?

What's the point in going through that just to feel judged, to feel like you're stupid, to be made to feel like they don't want to hear it, they don't care? 

Really, what's the point? 

Ravenscraig Psych Ward, my near-miss.

This is a mental health post, those who want to, should look away now.

I was almost admitted to a psych ward yesterday. Yep. Yay me. 

That info will induce different reactions in different people. Amusement, bemusement, concern, despair, embarrassment, indifference, pity, whatever. I don't really need to know, please don't tell me.

You might be aware I've been struggling with my mood lately. The last few days I've been quiet as I've tried to hunker down and ride it out so I've avoided all forms of contact with everyone so I apologise if I've appeared rude and may do so for next few days. 

I had a GP appt yesterday which didn't go well. In all the years I've seen her, I've never cried the way I broke yesterday. She was great, called the Unscheduled Care Team and got me an appt. It was in Kirkcaldy psych ward so had to wait a few hours for ambulance to take me through, she kept checking on me as I waited in absolute despair, crying my eyes out, panicking, and a mess. I thought I was being admitted to hospital and I'm pretty sure that was what my GP thought too, it's what she intended.

 Anyone who's ever been admitted to a psych ward will know what a harrowing experience it is, the admittance procedure that is, not just the ward, the ward's another ball game entirely, and no, it's not like "One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest", although, there are moments... 

I hope those who haven't been admitted never find out what it's like. I spent a long time discussing everything with a mental health nurse, they take your life story basically, and also ask about the events leading up to what brought you to them. Then I had to wait to see the psych doc on call. 

This doc on call covers all the unscheduled psych assessments in Fife, so they could be anywhere, and with more urgent cases to see before me so it was about an hour or so before she arrived, during which time a couple of curious patients came and spoke briefly, not that I'd ever forget, but it reminded me of life "on the inside". 

When the doc arrived, she was lovely, she'd just been in Cupar at Stratheden. You then go through it all again with the doc and they decide whether to admit you or send you home. If you can keep yourself safe they send you home. I wasn't sure if I could or not so they were going to admit me.  I should have let them. 

I agreed I should be in hospital, but there were no beds in Dunfermline where I live. There was a bed in Kirkcaldy where I was being assessed but most likely I was going to be sent to Stratheden in Cupar, a fair distance away which would mean another few hours wait for an ambulance to take me there. It was 10pm. My GP appt was 11.40am. I was wiped out, exhausted in every way. Like I said, it's not a pleasant experience, I'd had a cup of tea with my GP and some water but hadn't eaten, my head was pounding from all the crying and questioning, and I was in crisis, but all I wanted was to be in bed, to not be talking anymore. So I asked to just go home, promising to stay safe overnight and to do so until I see my psychiatrist and psychologist and we get extra support and a plan in place to get through this. I called my bro who picked me up and drove me home. He was a bit surprised to get my call. I got home and, hungry as I was, I just knocked myself out with a sleeping tablet. It's what I'd promised to do, along with calling nhs24 if I had to, there was still that bed in Stratheden if I needed it. 

So yeah, last few days have been shit. Yesterday was the worst. Today I'm wiped out so I ask people to be patient with me for a wee while till I try to reach equilibrium again. If you've read this far, I apologise for wasting a few minutes of your time. 

Also, please don't comment. I'm drained entirely so prob won't be on for a couple of days and any concern just upsets me more. I don't feel I deserve concern, I know you think that's stupid,but welcome to the joys of my mental health. I'll stay safe, I'm trying to remember that people care whether I want them to or not, and life is worth living. 

Love. 

Today

Today's the greatest day I've ever known. Not really, just love that song and it popped into my head. 

Today I watched the last few eps of Jericho then the latest ep of The Walking Dead, Alexandria's interesting isn't it? 

Then I tried to snooze cos bad thoughts and all but it didn't work so I made something healthy for lunch for a change. Yay! Go me!! 

Then I watched American Sniper, Wild, and Pompeii. I also had Leffe Ruby and Leffe Brune because in the absence of pills alcohol may help me sleep. 

Andrew Lincoln, Norman Reedus, Bradley Cooper and Kit Harrington ALL in one day. Sweet dreams I hope. 

Did you know?

Did you know how broken I was when you first saw me? Did you know I'd be such an easy target, manipulated and fooled by your disguise? Your narcissism kept me there dangling for years as your personal ego boost and faux girlfriend. I say faux because I don't know if anything you ever said was true, I think I was just a live-in ego boost, unlike all the others. Why did you choose me to be the one you'd abuse the most? Why choose me to blame and humiliate, manipulate and hate? You made me think that I was the crazy one when you were the one just pushing the right buttons. I thought I was going insane and you were only too happy to keep feeding that lie to everyone. I have so much anger and hatred and despair now and no one to aim it at now you're dead, especially after your parting words. I turn it inwards. I cut, I medicate, I hate, I despair. I am devoid of joy. Suicide is always on my mind. I thought I'd be over it by now, over you, I thought I'd have a life by now but instead all I have is slowly dissipating like slush melting in spring. Soon there won't be a me either. Is that what you wanted? 

Insanity

The squeaky floorboards in the flat above are doing my nut in. They were never like that with the previous tenents so have they put down laminate flooring? It's been going on for months. It wakes me all the time and I have screamed at them a couple of times to just fucking stop. They argue a lot too which just increases my anxiety. Well HE shouts a lot and if it was me i'd have him whacked with something already. I'm so tired of this fucking flat with the rats (the place is stinking of dead rat at the moment), the vandalising neighbours, and upstairs driving me crazy. 

I'm thinking of putting my plan into action because I can't see it gets better than this. 

Mon 9th Feb. Removed from fb.

#MENTALHEALTHPOST:

Disclaimer: PM Me if you'd rather not see this stuff and I'll exclude you, or tell me to unfriend you. No one will know or judge, this stuff isn't always easy to read but it's not easy to live with either.

I'm not prepared to pretend it doesn't exist because it makes some people uncomfortable or they don't believe it exists. I'm not writing this for hugs, sympathy, pity, or attention anymore than people post anything else on here so please just let it be. 

Basically, this day can fuck off. It's one of the bad ones where I can't distract myself and I can't function, not yet anyway. I haven't cut yet but it's only lunchtime, I hope i make it through the rest of the day without doing so. I used to feel intelligent, I used to feel semi-confident, I used to feel strong. I used to have fun. I used to feel useful. I feel none of those things now. I feel a burden. I feel a waste of space, I feel like a loser. I feel so helpless and lost and tortured. Some days I can almost feel like my old self again. The Tina you grew up with, the Tina you went to uni with, the Auntie Tina who adored the kids (and still does) but I'm stuck in this limbo and it's been so long and it's so dark that I think I'm lost forever.

From Thursday 5th Feb. Removed from fb.

Look away now: #mentalHealth post: 

I've been seriously distracting myself today on Facebook, so thanks to you all for aiding and abetting, and particularly for all the perving! I've been posting all sorts on here today and it's been fun. 

Thankfully, even at my worst I never lose my sense of humour, but behind the jokes and stuff I hide my despair.  But when the lights go out and I hunker down to try to sleep the urge to hurt myself gets stronger and the battle gets harder and sometimes I wish I don't wake up and I hate it. 

Like now, when I'm really struggling with my mental health on a daily basis, I would say this has been a good day for me because I've been quite interactive. But I've still to get through the night. And the bad days too. 

They will pass though. 

I Have Nothing

To Post Or Not

"Making people change because you can’t deal with who they are isn’t how it’s supposed to be done. What needs to be done is for people to pull their heads out of their asses. You say ‘cure.’ I hear ‘you’re not human enough."

John Scalzi, Lock In

 This is something that really stuck with me as I was reading this book. People can't deal with who I am. Or rather they can't deal with my mental health when it's bad. It's bad at the moment.

 My open-mindedness and candid talk of my own mental health problems have become something of a problem, not for those who share similar diagnoses or experiences, but for other people who probably wish I could give myself a shake, have the whole damn thing disappear and shut the fuck up about it. 

Now, wouldn't that be nice? I would LOVE to not have these problems but I do, and so do millions of others. 

 Unfortunately, despite the extensive worldwide media campaigns to end the stigma of mental illness it still remains. Maybe they're scared of it, catching it from someone. Well you know what? They should be! It's torture. It's not contagious though. 

 I recently started posting on Facebook some Mental Health Posts because I'm trying to let people know how I'm feeling, you know, in case anyone cares,  because I'm tired of people dismissing it, dismissing me, whenever I try to talk about it in real life. So on Facebook it's my way of asking for help, a little support, and most of that support comes mostly from people I've met online. I'm not good at asking for help and I realised recently that it's because when I try to talk openly to family or certain friends about it, it gets shut down. Quickly. 

 Now it's not everyone, but many people don't like when I post on Facebook about what's going on in my head. if I'm having a good day and able to semi-function, or whether it's a bad one I just can't do anything with. They don't understand it, they don't like the self-harm and suicidal thoughts but, come on, I don't go into detail!! They have ups and downs yet hold down a job, do things with friends, maintain their housework, so why can't I? Hell, they can wash, eat, and dress themselves every single day. Yay for them. 

 I'm glad they can because not being able to is a nightmare. Curled up in bed on a bad day thinking constantly about suicide is a nightmare. Flashbacks of traumatic events are a nightmare, and falling asleep and having nightmares well... 

 I've barely eaten in the past 3 weeks, sometimes nothing for days, I've not washed for over a week, which is not a record for me, and the only time I got dressed was when I had to go to the local shop to buy toilet roll and tins of soup that I've not eaten. I have dishes in my sink that every few days, when I go to fill my water glass, I tip the water out of the dishes and refresh it so that it doesn't start smelling because every night I think: "tomorrow will be different, I'll get up, shower, eat, do dishes. And if I can do that much then it's a start"

 But I don't. 

 I've not eaten today. I had 2 slices of toast yesterday so that must've been filling. I've no desire to eat. I've no motivation, I've no reason. 

That's the problem. I've no reason. 

But that's another day. 

Love. 

My Tourniquet?

The problem is deciding who to try to call. Which one person to ask for help, put all this responsibility on? Or try several? When no-one picks up in the wee hours or someone does but they don't take you seriously, or are annoyed at being woken, what then? Helplines haven't been helpful in my experience and have made it worse at times. I'm not good at asking for help from people for everyday things how am I supposed to ask them to help save me when I don't know if I want to be saved? 

There's so much to say but who the hell wants to listen?