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……………
we made it………
I had little man all day, whilst Daddy went to work. Our first real time together since I’ve come out off hospital.
It was a difficult day, but also one I’m proud off. I shed some tears, almost called the ward for help, almost called granny to say I couldn’t cope, but then the emotional wave passed and I perserveered.
My conclusion though is that my main issue is 100% untreated postnatal depression and recovery from that needs to be my main focus.
The meds will not solve anything and the self esteem issues and self hatred will hopefully ease if I can just get the right help.
I hope little man had no idea. I hope I’m not damaging him. I hope he knows that i do Iove him and i hope I can beat this.
I’m out on leave from the hospital, and our plan was to see how it goes for a few days before bringing little man home from granny’s
I’ve been low all day. I’ve been a little weepy and lost for things to do. I’ve contemplated downing drugs and other means.
What surprised me though, is that my heart ached for little man. I practically begged OH to trust me, and bring him home.
At granny’s my little hero leaped out the front door, sprinted shoeless across pebbles and tarmac, and flung his arms around me. We squeezed each other tightly and both faught back little tears.
Our relationship is a little complicated, and I need help with that but……
Little man is home where he belongs! and I must must MUST not let him down or abandon him again.
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’m still on a psych ward. I’m still feeling suicidal and I’m still struggling with facing up to all my little demons.
Covid 19 has been tough on me, with no visits allowed. I’ve not held or played with little man in weeks. I feel so guilty for dumping him again. I feel so scared about mapping out a future that will not damage him. Some days I doubt my love foe him. Some days I want to give him back, but everyday from in here i face time with hum.
And I do it because I want him to know I love him, and that I’m trying to be better for him.
There is a long and difficult path ahead for us as a little family. It’s one tonight, that I want to run from. I want to ligature, but no loopy, not tonight. Fight for your little man. Fight for what could be fun fullfilling future for you all.
Come on Loopy, no more “setbacks” please.
Literally….. tonight I hid in our laundry room, tied pj bottoms tight around my neck and I waited.
I waited for the throbbing head, the pulsing in my neck, my closing puffy eyes and unconsciousness.
I was found, quickly untangled and checked over. The urge has been building all day. I had earlier spoken with a nurse and asked her to remove items.
The tipping point though, was dinner after which I felt fat far fat, so puked also losing my lorazepam. Already anxious and tense I rang little man to say good night.
The call upset me. He’s changing, growling up and growing used to life without me. He and OH do well without me.
The path ahead feels monsterouus, and my reserves are low.
I must stop self destructing. I’m ruining all our lives.
I’ll be flung out tomorrow
I suspect. All the nurses hate me I’m difficult and I keep trying to ligature to stop my thoughts and to end it all.
In their eyes I’m putting us all at risk off corona virus.
The staff find me, Rip the ligature off and the bolt. I’m not even asked if I’m ok, but I have now had 3 bollockings for it.
I can’t help it. All I want is to die and allow my boys to.continue their happy lives without me.
I don’t want to be albino and visually umosired anymore. I don’t want to fail at work. I don’t want to get fat. I don’t want to look at myself in the mirror and continue to hate the image staring back.
I’m a horrible, selfish person, which this world
could do without.
No one can help me and apparently “your not trying hard wbough”
I am though but I’m done