Emotionally unstable personality disorder or borderline for those of you in the states. They dropped that little bombshell yesterday in my ward round. A ward round I didn’t know I was having and one that took place after hours so my care coordinator was absent.
It came as a shock. I’m finding it a little difficult to come to terms with.
Having since read up on it (since no one bothered to talk to me about it), I can say it probably makes a lot of sense.
Why the hell was it not picked up sooner?
Today I was able to face time little man. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in about 3 weeks. He seems to be doing ok which is good, but mum guilt has certainly kicked in. I’ve abandoned him again.
Family have once more raised concerns about his social skills. I really wish they wouldn’t. Now is not the time.
I do worry about him. I do still think he shows ASD traits and it’s a fact that he is speech delayed, but I can’t face that right now.
There are some huge changes ahead. Changes that will hopefully make little man’s upbringing better. The problem is, I’m not good with change. I’m flipping constantly between hope and suicidal despair. It’s exhausting.
Back on the ward now, and I’ve burned.
The doc in here is too black and white. “You need a plan loopy” “you need to quit something”
He’s not seeing “me”. I’m so much more than just an over tired working mum. I’m a self loathing mess, crippled with self hatred and self doubts. I have a complex past that has shaped who I am today. I am not black and white I am different shades of grey.. only grey.
They’re all dying to discharge me. They can’t see what I and my CPN can see, I need more help. I need to be moved to the ward with the clock. They had more empathy, more compassion and gave more of themselves to understanding “me”
Having said that, I’m being unfair. The staff do try but I’m not comfortable enough yet to open up.
I need to ligature. If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out.
Life is literally crumbling around me. I have no strength or fight left.
I want to give up. I don’t want to be here anymore. My arms are raw and sore, my love for zopiclone is unsustainable, and all other interventions are failing me, and I stink!
I’ve been asked would I go into hospital. I’ve said yes. I wish C could come with me though.
There really isn’t much else to say.
Yesterday I was told; “everybody has worries in their life”
Today I was told “you have a lot more than some people”
Both the statements are true, but both of them stung me like a knife in the chest. Both off them felt like a personal attack. Both of them sounded just like my mum.
I wanted C today. I’m a little scared of seeing her again, after hanging up on her, but I hope we’ll be ok. I need her.
I’ve just taken my bike out. 35 minutes pumping as hard as I possibly could. I’m still a jittery, agitated mess.
The truth hurts!
I was shocked to be honest, when I picked up my new meds. I saw a psychiatrist today, and whilst increasing my venlafaxine, she added propranolol. Why was I shocked? I now have boxes of the stuff, over a grams worth. A potentially lethal dose.
I asked her how to stop the zopiclone. Her response; go cold turkey!! She won’t prescribe me more than 5 days worth at 7 mg. Which is really two days worth given my recent consumption. The goal posts have moved. My regular psych was more understanding on this front. My CPN has even said, maybe now is not the time. Do they not share notes?
My current cocktail is;
Venlafaxine 150mg am, 75mg pm. Quietiapine 100mg am, 200 mg pm. Mirtazapine 45mg pm. Propranolol 20 mg am and 20 pm.
I also have a little stash of zopicline, all prescribed, but not yet touched.
It’s too many pills. I wish someone would mind them for me. I’m too impulsive right now.
OH and little man are home. OH is working tomorrow. I have a day of house viewings (potential buyers) and a toddler caught in the grips of the terrible two’s.
I hung up on her. It was so cruel of me. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was done. I’d tested the cord, until my head thumped, and then i released.
I frantically tried to call her back, got through on the stepped up care number, to be told you need to ring reception!! I couldn’t get through. 10 minutes later and two individuals with official lanyards appeared at my door.
The guy shared a name with my son. I can’t help but feel that, that was deliberate. They talked at me, went for a walk with me, and promised me I’d get more help.
I have an urgent psych appointment tomorrow. I don’t know how they can help me.
I’m dreading seeing my CPN. I wonder will she dump me now? I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I never intended to cause her any stress, but I think I did.