Thanks for that little question sis. I couldn’t believe it as those words poured from her lips. She’s knows I’m on a list of meds as long as my arm and hence would not be getting pregnant. She knows that I’m self conscious about my weight. Surely she knows better…
Well at least those words have confirmed what I already know; I’m a fat ugly mess!!!
I want to burn deep tonight. I want to swallow sleeping pills, not to die, but to dull my racing thoughts and self hatred.
I want to hit the gym!
These were the words that I heard today, when talking to a doc on the ward.
She was spot on. Why do I keep seeking support and approval from people who are incapable off it.
I must look elsewhere, and accept that some people simply lack the capacity to fulfill my emotional needs.
I’m back inside, back on level 2’s, back to chaotic wards and cold toast.
I’m not where I want to be. I wish they’d move me to my old stomping ground.
I guess for now, I’ll just stay compliant.
Today, I phoned for my blood test results. I had a full work up. The voice on the line said; “yes they’re all normal”
I don’t understand. I don’t believe her. I want to see the numbers and rhe the eeferenxe ranges. I don’t know how this is possible. I was sure they’d indicate some physcal deficiency. I’d hoped for it. Something we could “treat” to make me feel better.
Most people would be thrilled to get the all clear. I’m devastated.
I don’t understand…….
Is it all in my head?
Do you have a plan to end your life?
I’ve lost it, completely lost it. My capacity to function with some sense of normality, has gone. I felt sorry for my CPN today. I was her last appointment, and it wasn’t a “yes everything is great, you can go home early kind of chat” Did I mention that I’ve lost it?
I could see her rapidly calculating risk, going through the “toolkit” of mental health evaluations. Do we need to call 999, or will she last until tomorrow?
And then I was asked, that question that always seems so bizarre to me. Answer wrong and I’d be shipped off to somewhere “safe”.
Off course I’ve thought about it. Imagined my red long sleeve t-shirt, knotted tight! around my neck. I’ve played it over and over and over, in my mind. I’ve pictured the scene that would await, police, or paramedics, or worse OH and my beautiful little boy. I’ve thought about, the logistics, off flying me home. The anger over delays, and paperwork, that would draw out an already difficult time.
Right now I’m staring at my clothes iron. Hair straighteners aren’t working anymore. I can’t get any relief. Would a larger more intense burn help?
I answered the question correctly. She left, which is partly what I wanted her to do. The other part, wanted a hug. A tight, body stabilising, “you’ve got this! hug.
I’m a little surprised really. They’ve prescribed me 42 zopiclone x 3.75mg and they know I already have some in my possession. Once again I am finding myself with to many pills. Tonight will be my first night on a reduced dose; 10.5mg and a promethazine to fill the void. Not exactly a break for my liver.
My blood pressure, is normal, well the nurse said normal. Actually it’s just a little high at 126/80, and definitely higher than “my normal”.
I’m still a wreck. Physically really unwell (nausea, pounding headaches and full of tremors) and emotionally totally drained. A phone call with my GP today has at least resulted in blood tests. She’s asking for the full works, but it will be a whole week before I can see a phlebotomist.
I need the tests now!
I’m supposed to be tapering of zopiclone this week. I’m supposed to stop taking more than 15mg. I’m supposed to get a frigging grip, but I can’t do it.
My arms are a total mess, but no one has asked me directly how I’m doing on that score, so I’ve kept it to myself.
I feel out of control and stupid. I feel unwell, and I know that it’s my own fault. I’ve not been able to hit the gym whilst OH was away, so the guilt took hold ensuring I expelled most meals to some extent, before digestion.
This morning started fairly brightly. I had fun with spotty little man out on his balance bike. He’s getting rather good.
By evening I’d crumbled, burned and binged. Then binged some more..
My CPN will see me wednesday as will a nursery nurse to discuss little man’s delayed speech.
I’m disgusting and stupid, and crap at parenting and there isn’t a pill in the world that can fix that.