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.
I had done it. I had landed a premium position at a Russell group university. It was my dream job. I had worked so hard to get to that point and now……..
Now I’m probably throwing it all away. Now I can see no better options but to relinquish this positiin and head, tail between my legs for home.
I simply couldn’t cope. This morning I tied a sheet around my neck and flopped head thumping to the floor. It wasn’t tight enough, and staff found me.
I want to do it again, tighter this time… I want someone to take my angst away. I want to feel like less of a failure. I want to die.
I really don’t know how to continue living.
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.
I can no longer cope. I’m reduced to tears at the slightest thing. My anxiety is intolerable and today we’ve been dealt another blow. Our landlord is selling our house. A house on a prime location, on a friendly street, a stone’s throw from the beach and little man’s nursery. I’m more than devastated. I’ve gone ten rounds with life, and it’s left me battered, bruised and done!!
Today in sheer desperation, before our house news, I reached out for help. I did what I am always told to do. I rang my CPN. She was unavailable but the voice on the line promised me someone, either C, or the “duty” would call me back.
No one did……………
I have work to do. Quite a bit infact and given my recent slow pace, I need to crack on. Try saying that to a two year old!!. He bashed on my labptop keys, grabbed and clawed at my hands, demanded an endless supply of food and drinks and attention and quite frankly made marking assignmnets nion impossible. OH works many weekends and we have no one else to turn to for support on days like this.
Working under these conditions had the sensation of hearing nails on a chalkborad!!. I can’t be all things to all people and its stressing me out. Today I was crap at everything. Extremely inefficient at marking, irritable as heck (my feedback might be a little harsh!) and neglectful as a mother.
On top of that, my mood has been nothing short of erratic. I swung quite violently from alsmost resigning from my job, to suicidal, to hopeful, back to suicidal and so the day went. I’ve eaten far too many carbs in an attempt to find comfort and I’ve burned (Again!)
Last night, i did find sleep on my new regimen but it was broken, and I spent alot of time looking at my watch. I eat more when I’m tired. Tonight I want to knock myself out, but i won’t.
Tomorrow I face another day of nails on a chalkboard.
Yesterday my psychologist told me; “we can’t proceed with therapy at this time, you are too distressed”
This is not the first time I’ve asked for help and have been turned away because I’m too messed up. It was a devastating blow. Is it me? Why do people keep fobbing me off to other services.
Why am I impossible to work with? How on earth do I move forward when service after service keep knocking me back.
My thoughts race constantly, flipping from chores, to work duties, to self hatred,to my endless list of failings and suicide plans. Can someone please turn off my head?
Last night at the gym, I hit play on my “insane” playlist. These were the tunes that I had listened to daily whilst confined to a psych ward.
As I pumped hard on the cross trainer my mind travelled back to that place and honestly I longed to be there again. Just for a night or two, just to get a break from reality and life. Just to be surrounded with amazing support staff and nurses who care and listen, and nurture.
There are some I’d love to chat with again, some I need to tell me off, and others I just want back in my life.
I can see why people, go in and out. I can understand the desires to self harm sufficiently to be ‘re-incarcerated.” I can understand why in lieu of a proper suicide attempt, it could be tempting. It could be one more try at finding the help you need.
Just a few nights to escape, to force me to give up sleeping pills, to ban me from self harming and comfort me while I do.
Not going to happen though