Tag: helpless

503. I want to quit.

I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t want the therapy. I don’t want to talk about my insecurities. I don’t want to expose myself anymore. I want to quit counselling.

She’s lovely, but I want to run. I want to hide and I want to stay silent. I can’t do it JUST LEAVE ME ALONE

I’m too embarrassed, too ashamed. I’m too pathetic. Can we just stop. I need to stop!!

It feels too raw, too uncomfortable, too hard.

I’ve never really felt like this in therapy before. Is it just too much now, whilst being a new mum. Am I already spinning too many plates or am I just scared? Scared of failure at it, scared of being silently judged, scared off saying too much……or too little.

Loopy x

383. I must

I must appreciate my son more.
I must love him, cherish him and protect him.
I must stop dreading our time together.
I must try harder.

I must create a summer studentship project.
I must create new module content.
I must create a scholarly research project.
I must publish.
I must try harder.

I must stop buying pills.

I must stop abusing zopicline.

I must stop purging.
I must drink more water.
I must stop self harming.
I must try harder.

I must call my best friend more. 
I must arrange to see her.
I must make more of an effort with OH and our families
I must try harder.

I must stop procrastinating.
I must be more productive.
I must set goals and achieve them.
I must try harder.

I must appreciate my life more.
I must stop dwelling on the negatives.
I must stop being a pessimist.
I must stop hating myself.
I must try harder.

I must accept my crappy eyesight, and ignore the constant stares from strangers
I must accept my life.
I must stop feeling overwhelmed.
I must stop planning my suicide.
I must lose weight.

I must stop wanting to quit it all.
I must get my shit together!!!!!!!

I can’t………………..

Loopy x

382. Voicemail.

It’s gone and I’m devastated.  I rang voicemail this evening in the hope of hearing C.  Those of you following will know that C, was my 2nd CPN.  I had 2, when I lived away from home; L and C. 
They were quite different in approach, but equally excellent.  Some days days I miss L and some days I miss C 

Today, I would give anything to hear; “hey loopy, it’s C.”  She started every voicemail in the same manner, and tone.  It was a clearly practiced and unwavering greeting, and when I heard it on my voicemail, I knew the cavalry had arrived.  I knew someone had my back. 
She was logical and caring, and honest.  If C said she was going to do something, then she would do it.

I can’t believe her voicemail has been deleted.  I should have saved it.  I’m gutted. 

It possibly sounds a little creepy, but I’m sure we can all recognise our brains ability to associate emotions with memories, experiences and sounds.  C’s voice brings control, calm, support, empathy snd humour. God I wish I’d saved the voicemail!!!!

I’m absolutely falling apart.  My whole journey home today was filled with thoughts of jumping in front of a car, hanging myself over the back of my office door, swallowing mounds of zopiclone….. Anything, Anything to make it stop!! I just need a moment, I need it all to just stops!!!..

I’m sick of the broken promises over here.  “We’ll get you help for your eating disorder”.. “We’ve referred you to addiction services” ,”I’ll ring you back”” 

It’s all bullshit!! I’ve been “home” since last July.  The disparity in care is shocking. We have probably the highest suicide rates in the UK, and I’m not surprised.   There is no help here.  There is no route to recovery, and I can’t wait any longer. 

I need to talk to C……I need help.  Someone, anyone, please help me 

Loopy x

363. Secondary services.

Today my GP insisted on a referral to secondary services The services that I’m already under the care off. It was a little bizarre, but an hour later I was called by my CPN.

The service here is rather crap. I used to have weekly appointments, a very kind ear on the phone and someone with whom I felt comfortable confiding in. God I miss C! (and L for that matter). I’d give anything to hear their reassuring voices again. They really cared, or at least it felt like they did.

Now I’m in a system that doesn’t seem to care I’m struggling, but I don’t think I’ll get much help here.

Back to work on Monday and I’m dreading it, but maybe it will help.

Loopy x

357. Do scales lie?

It’s official, I’m the fattest I’ve ever been. I’m honestly disgusting. When I lay on my side, I can feel a cushion of squidgy horribleness where my hip bones used to be.

I know why this has happened, a combinatiin of binging, lack of excercise and poor diet has culminated in grotesque lipid deposits, eveeywhere!!! Orlistat can’t compesate for this.

I need to hit the gym! I need to hit it now!!

Loopy x

349. Under my desk.

I was unbelieveably tired this morning. I got up at my usual, 5.45am, got ready, and caught my. bus.

I snoozed on the commute as I usually do. It’s not proper sleep, it’s more like drifting in and out of consciousness aftet a few too many boozy beverages.

At my destination, I was still drained, but somehow managed to carry my heavily weighted limbs for the 25 min walk to my office. Once I arrived though, I was done. Physically and emotionally exhausted. I could barely stand, barely hold my head straight, so I did something quite odd.

I locked my door, climbed under my desk, lay on the floor and snoozed. Around 45 minutes later I awoke to the sound of colleagues chatting down the corridor. I was now just slightly more awake, and able to face the day.

I’ve never done that before, but in sheer desperation I just had to lie down.

I’m struggling folks, but no one’s noticing.

Loopy x

348. How do I stop?

I need help. My daily zopiclone usage is back to 15mg and rising. I’m craving the knock out effect. I’m craving the mind fog and slowed thoughts. When I’m alert at night, my mind races. It attacks me. It tells me I’m ugly, and stupid and useless. It tells me I’ll fail.

So I pop a zopiclone, which then rises to 2, and to 3, and to 4. I’ve been here before. How do I stop??

Added to this, is my daily ritual of throwing up my dinner. If it weren’t for the smell, I’d also do lunch, but I can’t easily purge at work. I hate my gut and yet the pounds keep creeping on. The scales register heavier and heavier. So I puke, but it has no effect.

How do I stop?

I wish someone would help me.

Loopy x