This week my niece (9) and nephew (5) are up staying with us. What have I let myself in for!! In truth, they are very good kids, well mannered and great with little man. But the noise, oh my god the noise!!! They are most definitely the loudest kids in Ireland!!!
Noise is something myself, OH and little man struggle with. Especially little man, who often holds his hands over his ears. I’m still concerned about him, to be honest. He’s very very sensitive to noise and I swear he has OCD. Can a child off 3, have OCD?
In other news, I’ve been building… Base frame and 1 wall frame done, with other timbers cut ready for assembly. I’m actually really enjoying this carpentry malarkey. Who knows, I may quit academia and live the quiet life, building crap out off wood, and selling it at a loss (proper stuff is quite expensive)
Finally, I have my psychology assessment tomorrow. I’ve no idea where to start or what my priorities are. I’m hoping it’s quite a structured chat. I’m nervous. What if they say; ‘you’re not suitable?”
I’m terrified off lockdown easing, I’m scared little man is damaged, I’m self harming, using diazepam in excess at night, abusing Orlistat and generally, I’m just messed up.
Where should we start………
I’ve not had the motivation to cycle lately. I’ve been lazy, lethargic and just blah
Work wise we are operating through MS teams and I know some of my colleagues like to cycle so I’ve set us a challenge.
How fast can we as a group cover the length of beautiful ireland. I’d kind off forgotten we’re all in academia, which means that we’re quite a competitive bunch.
The race is on to do the 581 km, not just as a group, but Individually!!!
Hell yeah, I’m competitive!! It’s just what I needed to get me pedalling again. 16km down, only 565 to go!!
What happens when you mix glorious sunshine, with quietiapine and albinism??
Lobster Loopy, that’s what I went for a bike ride today, but stupidly forgot to apply my factor 50. I’m growing redder by the minute.
The worst part is scorching the backs of my hands as any movement at all stretches and pulls at the skin.
34 odd years with albinism and a few years on quietiapine, you think I’d know better.
On a side note, I’m really really really missing C and L today. I had my first phone contact with my new care coordinator this afternoon. They prefer the term key workers over here. I think it’s because the title of care co-ordinator could be taken up with trading standards!!! They coordinate f$%k all.
To quote directly I was told” it’s not like I’ll be ringing you every week, I’ll review you in a month”
Can please please PLEASE have L or C again……
He’s been sniffing around today I can’t explain it, but my body feels tense and on edge. My mind feels useless and scatty. My future looks hopeless and worthless.
I hate when I feel like this. I want to buy pills, I’m toying with self harm. I’ve thrown up. I’m slipping somewhat and it scares me.
Just go to bed loopy. No buying pills, no self harm, no undoing the progress you’ve made lately.
Just go to bed!!
On days like this, I want to stay in bed. I want to avoid the world and be alone. I blog on bad days.
Here’s the thing though. I’ve had more good days lately, than bad. I should be writing about those.
This past week I’ve been reducing my zopiclone and diazepam usage. I’ve been playing with and loving little man. I’ve been productive work wise, and have even 99% landed an external examiner post. I’ve been on my bike, I’ve been cuddling with OH. I’ve been having argument free chats with dearest sister. I’ve been puking less and no self harm. I’ve been doing well.
The reality here is that, to some extent COVID lockdown is giving me breathing space, a chance to bond, a chance to reset.
Today was a bad day, but the week has been good.
Focus on the good!!!
I don’t precisely know why, but I’m feeling better. I think my combo of meds is working. I think the good weather is uplifting and I think I’m gaining confidence with little man.
I need now to wean off my zopiclone and diazepam but I’ve been doing it slowly since coming home from hospital. I’ve not self harmed in ages, and I’ve not been purging anywhere near as much as usual.
I’m just in a better place, and it feels good. I hope I can sustain this and have more good days
Now if I could only sort out my sleep. The meds combo is working during the day, but oh my word I’m having night terrors! and incredibly scratchy painful dry eyes.
One day at a time Loopy. You’ll read this saying alot as it is my new mantra.
I’ve chomped my nails, down to the stumps, I’ve binged and purged. I’ve burned and tonight for the first time since discharge, I want to knock myself out with zopiclone and diazepam, both of which I have in my possession (not loads)
I can’t explain it but a huge wave of sadness, hopelessness, self doubts and self destructive urges have hit me hard this evening…
And so the cycle begins again……………
I’ve been out on leave for the past 4 days, but today I was officially discharged. It’s weird, but this always comes with a little sadness on my part. I think you get so used to being wrapped in a 24/7 blanket of care, that leaving it makes you feel vulnerable and a little alone.
The staff were generally great. They wouldn’t usually tolerate patients who behaved as I did. Any self harm over here gets you shipped immediately to a PICU, but covid stopped that, and they managed me as best they could. They even took my wardrobe, the actual furniture away.
I now have a clearer picture on what my priorities must be.
1. Get help for my PND.
2. Get help for my eating issues and drug use, although since leave I have reduced my zopiclone down to 7.5mg only.
3. Seek support or at least clarification regarding my BPD traits.
4 Learn to like myself again and accept my emotions in a more positive way.
You can only tackle these one at a time Loopy, but you can do it!!
6 weeks on a psych ward and pretty much zero improvement. I’m out on leave until Tuesday and then I’ll be discharged.
Basically we all recognised that the stay was off no benefit, and without being allowed to burn, my use of ligatures just escalated.
So I’m back home, on a ridiculous regimen of meds, and little hope going forward. How do I get help here? How do I get better? How on earth will I cope when little man comes home from granny’s on Sunday.
I am happy to be back in my own bed though, with no restrictions and OH’s arms wrapped tightly around me.
I’ve been in hospital.now for just over 5 weeks, and I feel no better now than the day I came in.
I’ve made no progress, learned nothing new about myself and I have no hope that I will ever live content.
COVID 19 hasn’t helped. No visitors, no occupational therapy, no on ward activities..nothing…
The ward sister has called me ridiculous very loudly and with venum in her tone on the few occasions that I’ve ligatured, and not once has she asked if I’m ok.
The nurses generally are nice, but limited in what they can do.
I do occasionally play with an old battered wilson (see pic), but the yard is tiny and the nurses don’t endure the noise for very long.
This stay isn’t like the others The levels of empathy and encourgment are much lower than my last two stays.
I’m lost, and I need out.