It turns out that my latest key worker/care coordinator is pretty good. I like her. She’s the first I’ve really like since moving home.
Anyway, she arranged a psych/meds review. I was asked the usual question. What would help you, what do you want to get out of this?
The drugs!!! I blurted out. I need to sort the drugs. So I’ve been switched from zopiclone to temazepam at night.
It’s only been 4 nights, but please please PLEASE, I need my zopiclone back. The temazepam gives me jitters, headaches and is no good for sleep.
The 10mg in comparison with the 18.75 of zopiclone, is just not cutting the mustard. I’m all tense, and anxious and jittery during the day. I’m regretting asking for the change
Plus swapping a z drug for a benzo isn’t exactly progress really, is it
In other news, I’ve found a lump. Off to the breast clinic this week. The Joy’s 😦
Because I’m hungry, and then I puke because I’m fat, then I eat because I’m hungry and then I puke because I’m fat…..
Realistically, how long can a person keep doing this?
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!!!
I’ve caused so much stress and fear and worry. I had no idea, I still had followers from my previous location.
At about 5am thus morning, OH rolled me over and whispered softly; “loopy there’s a police man here to talk to you” My instant thought was oh crap, I’m being arrested for possession!!
But no, he was here to check on my wellbeing.. He was here because someone identified a risk, and they acted on it. He was here because someone cares.
You know who you are. (I wish I did too, so that I could call or email you, thank you, and reassure you that I’m ok.). I wish you were still involved with my care.
I’m not really ok, but this whole episode has prompted OH into action, it has prompted me to be more aware of the impacts of my actions. I spoke last night to teary parents, and a cousin that the police had traced in efforts to find me. I awoke to a phone inundated with missed calls and messages.
I’m going to demand more help. I’m going to check out private care. I’m going to somehow get through the next few days.
Whoever you are, thank you, thank you, THANK YOU.
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.
I’ve been holding back for months. I’ve been terrified of the consequences. How can anyone ever have those thoughts?
I’ve also been terrified that on impulse, or in the depths of despair, I may react, in unimaginable ways.
Today, for the safety of my beautiful little boy, I finally shared some of my most distressing thoughts. I fear that I may hurt him. I know that on occasion I have felt the need to die, and escape this cruel existence. But my little man can’t grow up without a mum. He can’t grow up in a cruel world either, and I’ve been told over and over that when a parent dies by suicide, it has a life long impact. Should I therefore take him too?… No, No,NO, a million times NO, but I’m still fearful.
I know this is disordered irrational thinking. I know these thoughts are wrong. But I also know that I’m not always capable of rationally challenging the emotional side of my brain.
Child services will be in touch soon. What have I done???
I wan’t to run. I wan’t to turn my back on England and all the mysery it has brought me and run!!!! Our landlord is forcing us to move out and yesterday I reciveved a message completely out of the blue, from an old friend who has informed me that his institution back in Ireland are recruiting lecturers. Last week I spoke with my CPN about giving up on everything here and running, and now I’m seeing “signs” that maybe its time to do just that.
Is it crazy to make such decisions now, when I’m so medicated, irrational, depressed and scared. Ireland has a different pace of life, I have family there, support there. I am more comfortable with its schooling system and ways. Would moving home help fix me??? This job is still a 4 hour drive from “home” but at least its the same flipping island. They could visit us, and we could visit them much more easily. Little man could get to know his cousins.
What would OH do? Should we live apart for a while? Would it just bring me the same mysery but in a different city. Should I just face the fact that life is not for me and end it?
I’ve spent today updating my CV.
I really don’t know what to do!!!! I’m sure I won’t secure the job anyway, but its forcing me to think and its stressing me out…………………………