1. Lose weight. I’m going to do it as soon as I can. I’ve bought more Orlistat, I’m desperately trying to get my hands on saxenda, and today I went back on my bike. I feel grotesque, a beached whale, a fat ugly rolley polley.
My first attempt at getting Saxenda failed. Stupid Loopy, you’re fake BMI was too low. Rookie error. My 2nd attempt- well I’m still waiting on the outcome. Fingers crossed. It’s funny, when I was doing my PhD I used to joke that we should all be taking GLP-1 agonists, which is what Saxenda is. They make you feel fuller, delay gastric emptying and have been shown to aid weight loss. Typically used to treat diabetes but now also approved for weight loss in morbidly obese individuals.
Next resolution. Self harm more. Yup I know how ridiculous that sounds. I should be trying the opposite, but /I’m stressed and it calms me. I have this mad craving to use a clothes iron. I’ve been fighting the urge for weeks now, sticking with the straighteners, but I don’t think I’ll be able to relax if I don’t try it. I can’t make sense of these urges at the minute, but they’re showing no signs of easing.
Next one- no hospital admissions in 2021. This past few years I’ve been in and out of psychiatric wards, and to be honest, at the moment I wish I was back in. That’s usually a sign that 1. I don’t actually need to be in, and 2. A sign that my stress and feelings of being overwhelmed are growing. But stay out this year Loopy. You need to stay out.
Last one for now- try to talk more with your key worker. Seek out more counselling and oh this is a big one- share your food struggles with OH.
That’s it for now folks. A mixed bag /I’d say.
I’ve chomped my nails, down to the stumps, I’ve binged and purged. I’ve burned and tonight for the first time since discharge, I want to knock myself out with zopiclone and diazepam, both of which I have in my possession (not loads)
I can’t explain it but a huge wave of sadness, hopelessness, self doubts and self destructive urges have hit me hard this evening…
And so the cycle begins again……………
I’ve been out on leave for the past 4 days, but today I was officially discharged. It’s weird, but this always comes with a little sadness on my part. I think you get so used to being wrapped in a 24/7 blanket of care, that leaving it makes you feel vulnerable and a little alone.
The staff were generally great. They wouldn’t usually tolerate patients who behaved as I did. Any self harm over here gets you shipped immediately to a PICU, but covid stopped that, and they managed me as best they could. They even took my wardrobe, the actual furniture away.
I now have a clearer picture on what my priorities must be.
1. Get help for my PND.
2. Get help for my eating issues and drug use, although since leave I have reduced my zopiclone down to 7.5mg only.
3. Seek support or at least clarification regarding my BPD traits.
4 Learn to like myself again and accept my emotions in a more positive way.
You can only tackle these one at a time Loopy, but you can do it!!
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.
I’ve been in hospital.now for just over 5 weeks, and I feel no better now than the day I came in.
I’ve made no progress, learned nothing new about myself and I have no hope that I will ever live content.
COVID 19 hasn’t helped. No visitors, no occupational therapy, no on ward activities..nothing…
The ward sister has called me ridiculous very loudly and with venum in her tone on the few occasions that I’ve ligatured, and not once has she asked if I’m ok.
The nurses generally are nice, but limited in what they can do.
I do occasionally play with an old battered wilson (see pic), but the yard is tiny and the nurses don’t endure the noise for very long.
This stay isn’t like the others The levels of empathy and encourgment are much lower than my last two stays.
I’m lost, and I need out.
Absolutely mortified at 4.00am this morning. I woke up.soaked, and confused. I was a bed wetter for many years as a child, but at 34 it feels so much more shameful.
The nurses and auxiliaries quickly changed my bedding, and were kind and non chalant.
I however feel humiliated
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.
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.
Literally….. tonight I hid in our laundry room, tied pj bottoms tight around my neck and I waited.
I waited for the throbbing head, the pulsing in my neck, my closing puffy eyes and unconsciousness.
I was found, quickly untangled and checked over. The urge has been building all day. I had earlier spoken with a nurse and asked her to remove items.
The tipping point though, was dinner after which I felt fat far fat, so puked also losing my lorazepam. Already anxious and tense I rang little man to say good night.
The call upset me. He’s changing, growling up and growing used to life without me. He and OH do well without me.
The path ahead feels monsterouus, and my reserves are low.
I must stop self destructing. I’m ruining all our lives.
I’ll be flung out tomorrow
I suspect. All the nurses hate me I’m difficult and I keep trying to ligature to stop my thoughts and to end it all.
In their eyes I’m putting us all at risk off corona virus.
The staff find me, Rip the ligature off and the bolt. I’m not even asked if I’m ok, but I have now had 3 bollockings for it.
I can’t help it. All I want is to die and allow my boys to.continue their happy lives without me.
I don’t want to be albino and visually umosired anymore. I don’t want to fail at work. I don’t want to get fat. I don’t want to look at myself in the mirror and continue to hate the image staring back.
I’m a horrible, selfish person, which this world
could do without.
No one can help me and apparently “your not trying hard wbough”
I am though but I’m done
This is new for me. I’ve never had such a high level of obs before.
It’s frustrating as I want to puke, I want to burn and I want to try again.. I’m getting better now, the ligatures are anchored and tight. If I could just get a little peace I can do it.
I should never have come in, I should have followed original plan.
I’m really sorry OH and little man. I do love you, but I can’t live life anymore. It’s too hard and I guess I’m too selfish.