How to Save a Life/Awesomeness personified 2

This picture is posted on my front door and above my desk at work because I love it. It makes me smile every time. I don't care if people think I'm mad (I am) it's for me. To remind me, at a glance, of the humour, the joy, and how great this world can be. I found out tonight a friend's son tried to commit suicide. I can't imagine what it feels like to see your son in so much distress he feels he can't go on and my heart is in pain for her. I do know how it feels to not want to go on. To REALLY not want to go on. She thinks he really meant it. I know how that feels and my heart goes out to him, I can only hope that as a family they find the strength and he recovers fully. I pray for it, for them all. My days of suicidal thoughts aren't over but the devastation Malc caused stops me. The promises I made to people stop me. I put family/friends through enough when i meant it, but it's swept under the carpet, no-one ever spoke to me about it and all i know is it upset them. Some day I fear those reasons for hanging on wont be enough. At the moment though I have Kirk. He's a facet, among many, responsible for keeping me here but I don't have all your photos so I picked him.

RIP Amanda Todd.

cuckoo's nest?

It’s been a while. 27^th September I was admitted voluntarily to a psych ward for my safety as I was suicidal, self-harming and going off the rails big time. I felt I had no other choice, nothing was helping and I was getting worse. At the time I decided with my psychiatrist that a medication change would be undertaken at same time so it was gonna be a bumpy ride. Boy, was it ever. It’s a horrible place to be, and for staff being in the caring profession most of them couldn’t give a fuck. I walked out the ward several times and on one occasion to commit suicide I was brought back by police not because they noticed I was missing but because I said goodbye to my friends on twitter more or less and one of them tipped off the ward.

3 months I was in there, the med they changed me to I was on for 7 weeks and I knew it wasn’t working, I became vegetative, stopped communicating, eating, doing anything. I couldn’t stand being around anyone. i kept telling them it's not working, they said to persevere. Turns out i'd been on it twice before and the 2nd time i showed no response so i was put on something else to try, which i had to pick?!!!! how does that make sense? i'm no doctor!! Staff kept telling me to ask for help, to talk to them so I tried but most of the time they were busy and never got back to me. This is consistent for most patients and the feeling of disharmony and apathy in the ward was infectious. I harmed myself several times on the ward and rarely the reasons were discussed. When I walked out to commit suicide it wasn’t discussed.

In between xmas and new year I got a 2 day pass which went ok but on the day I was to go back I didn’t. The next day the ward left a voicemail asking If i was going back I sent a text message saying I was knocking myself out for a few days, they left another voicemail saying ok. I had no meds apart from some temazepam and diazepam I had stockpiled. I used these meds to keep me under for three days, I was taking them like candy. On new years day the temazepam was lasting about an hour, I’d taken maybe 80mg upwards and 45-60mg diazepam so I called nhs 24 asking if there was a lethal limit. Even I knew I was taking too much. They said I was at serious risk and should go back to ward. Next thing I knew I got call from ward saying they had no doctor and should go to a&e, nhs24 had pieced enough together to call round and find out who’d called. my friend took me and stayed with me. They monitored me for couple hours then I went to the ward. I asked to speak to someone so I could explain why I was knocking myself out, why I was so suicidal, they were too busy and hadn’t had their break. I asked if tomorrow would be better and it was agreed. No-one ever spoke to me about it. My friend at the time was furious because she said they were rude and dismissive. I said it was just par for the course.

Normally you see your psychiatrist on a Monday morning but because of the hols it was Wednesday I saw him. (My provisional discharge date) Normally you’re in for a few minutes, how they’re supposed to assess you I have no idea. I tried to talk to him about new years day, he wasn’t interested. I tried asking why patients ask to speak to staff and are constantly turned away when extremely distressed. My answer to those and several other questions? “you’re being discharged today I don’t see why we’re talking about this” after him saying this a few times I got up and just walked out. I just wanted to slap him.

It’s 3 weeks since I’ve been out and the damage that place has done to me and my trust in the caring profession is undeniable. I have a great GP and Psychologist but can I trust them? I have no idea now. I don’t know what way is up. I’ve spent the last 3 weeks in bed because I don’t want to live but have so many people telling me they’ll never forgive me if I killed myself. Having been on the receiving end of such news, Malcolm killing himself, and seeing the devastation it caused and believing I was the cause of the devastation means I haven't been able to do it yet. I sit with my tablets and water or wine and knife and cry trying to think of some reason to live or i try to knock myself out with benzodiazepines. This is not a life. It’s an existence. I’m the only one that can change it but I have no idea where to start this time. I’ve done this a few times but I think this is the worst I’ve ever been and cant see any way out. But I have friends rooting for me, not just local friends but twitter friends, we support each other although I feel I’ve been a bit lacking in my support of others lately and that will have to change. Maybe the fact I’m writing at all is a sign that things are changing. I sure hope so.

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.