408. Home 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.

Loopy x

405. Hello buddy.

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.

“Hello buddy” 

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.

Loopy x

400

I started this blog around 2 years ago, when I was first sectioned and subsequently admitted to a psych hospital. 

I can’t believe it’s post 400, but worse I can’t believe I’m writing this from my bed on a different psych ward.

My mood is low today.  My future hopes are well not exactly hopeful.

I’ve not seen little man in weeks (damn covid 19).  What I have seen thought is that little man and OH do well without me. 
They’ve moved back into granny’s for a bit. That’s where they belong. 
Little man deserves a happy home, and all the love and care and support that I can’t offer him.

I love you little man, but you deserve so much more.
This drug addicted, self destructive, self centred mum is no good for you.

I’m not leaving you buddy, I’m freeing you…

Loopy x

394. A hanging..

I tried, but i fell short.  This evening I locked my bathroom door, tied pj bottoms around the shower curtain rail, and threw some knots around my neck.  I’d almost got it perfect. 
But then the cavalry arrived. 
I though I’d have more time. Checks here are scarse at best. Now my clothes have been removed and cupboards cleared.  I’ll try again, I’m sure of it.


I’ve come to the very sad realisation that it’s not OH and little man who’d be better off without me.  It’s me, it’s me, it’s me who needs to go. I can’t continue any longer pretending to be smashing life when in fact it’s crushing me….

That little voice in my head, “run fatty run, puke fatty puke,  burn ugly burn, your a failure, your a waste of space, you difficult and selfish and horrid.  Die damn it, do us all a favour and die!!!

Loopy x

391. Night time feasts.

Last night after meds, I shovelled choclate and crisps into my gob. Previous meals, dinner and a supper scone had been purged, but damn it, I couldn’t throw up after meds as I wouldn’t sleep.

I feel utterly disgusted with myself and I’m desperate to burn.

I keep doing this; the nightime feasts. I wake up with wrappers on my bedside table, some of which I remember and some that I don’t.

Disgusting!!

Loopy x

387. Monday.

I have a work thing after work on Monday. I’m staying in a hotel after.

I think it’s time now, time to put an end to all this. I think, I’m just broken and I can’t be fixed.

I’m pale and ugly and useless. I’m out off control. I’m a drug addict. I’m stressed, I’m lonely, I’m horrible to live with, I’m done.

I know OH and little man love me. I know I have friends and family who care. I know this is selfish, and devastating and cruel……….but I can’t go on like this. I need it all to stop. I need to take control…. I love them too, and god I hope they’ll be ok.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,

Monday……..

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

369. Dear family….

DISCLAIMER… Sorry readers, this ones rather sweary…..

Dear Family, Shut the fuck up, and fuck the fuck off!!!!!!!!!

My mental state is deeply routed in the constant judgement, and opinions that I’m subjected to.

“Oh he’s definitely autistic, sure you know what’s he’s like….. Why are you being so defensive!… you need to get him assessed.  You know he’s going to need support.  Sure he’s so odd.  There’s definitely something wrong with him.” .. Thanks for that dear sister, now fuck off….

“Sure you know there’s nothing wrong with him… Sure how would he not be odd, sure you and Daddy are odd a fuck.  Do ya know what he needs, a good slap once in a while. Sure he’s spoiled!! Yas have him ruined”…… Thanks for that dear mother, now fuck off!!!!

“Oh I’m not sure about that school, they’re very small. If he needs any help sure it’ll take years. Our J sent his children to HF. It’s a great wee school. You should apply there…..Thanks for that dear mother in law, now fuck off!!!!!!!

All I want, even just once, is for someone to tell me; “actually you’re doing a good job”  “he’s a credit to you both”

Not in my family….
Loopy x

360. Ground zero.

I’ve crashed, I’ve crumbled and I’m struggling. I’ve had a few good weeks if truth be told. I should have documented those few highs.

Now though, I’m almost done, I’m home, proper home, but I can’t hack it. It’s too loud, too emotional, and too draining. I’m also on a dose reduction regimen with the zopiclone. Combining that with a home visit was a bad idea.

I love them all, don’t get me wrong. But I just can’t cope here. I’m in the depths of hopelessness and I don’t really understand why.

God I hate the lows. I hate the terminology, but I really am “emotionally unstable”

Loopy x