My boys love me, but they don’t need me. The heartiest of laughs is usually heard when I’m not in the room, but listening from afar. OH does the dressing, feeding, bathing etc 90% of the time anyway. I don’t contribute fairly. I’m useless.
It’s funny how a few fleeting thoughts can become an obsession. What drugs do I have? How much do I need? When should I take them? It plays over and over and over relentlessly.
My head is a frigging wreck.
I’m done with this pregnancy. It’s a horrible thing to say, but I don’t think I want another child. I won’t cope with 2. I’m already terrible looking after 1.
I’m thinking about suicide. I don’t think I could ever harm an unborn child though. I’m feeling trapped, and scared…..and alone.
My site was down and I had no idea. I was wondering why I’d been having no views. Was just about to quit writing, but it’s now sorted.
I don’t really blog for others, it’s a personal mental space for me to express my thoughts safely and anonymously. But not having readers, felt disappointing. I don’t know why. I guess you lot are my sounding board and it only works if I feel I’m being heard. It doesn’t matter who, just someone.
So now fixed, I shall continue.
Biggest thought today, is that I need to increase my Saxenda dose. I’ve started walking, but it’s not enough. I’m fat and need to fix it.
I’m also in a constant state of really wanting to end my life. But I don’t want to hurt anybody. When I’m out walking, I think go on Loopy, jump in front off a car. At least that might look like an accident. When I get home again, I think off the driver, the potential impact that could have, but if my family thought I died from an accident, would it be any easier on them?
Jumping in front off cars is no easy feat, I bottle it every time. Drug overdoses are easier, but not guaranteed. Hanging is really affective, but again I bottle it. Does that mean I don’t want to die? What the hell does all this mean?
I’m tired now, i’m always tired.
I scoffed, I puked and I wept. Scoffed some more, puked some more and wept some more.
Tonight my arm is scorched white. I want to use an iron, a clothes iron, but I’ve resisted. Hair straighteners brought that wonderful sense of calm. The pain is so intense, that the calm feels all that sweeter.
I’m disgusting, I’m ugly and I stink. Literally stink. Bathing has felt all too much lately.
I want to buy Liraglutide. The Orlistat simply isn’t cutting the mustard.
I know myself well enough now, to know that it’s not good when my head goes to these places. Diazepam is safe, frustratingly safe. I know this, because I’ve been searching. Frantically trawling for the LD50’s (a dose that would be lethal for 50% of the people who take it).
I’ve been searching as my get out plan. I’ve been searching because I have tonnes of the stuff in my drawer. I’ve been searching because I feel odd. I feel incapable of ever ditching my zopiclone dependence. The
Temapezam is giving me night terrors and awful headaches. Tomorrow I will be begging to have my zopiclone back.
Work is getting done, but very slowly and I can feel the pressure squeezing in on me. I’m forgetting loads. My head is just not retaining stuff. Names that I should know, escape me. Tasks that I should do, get forgotten. Meetings that i should attend pop up in reminders 3 days after the event. “Oh crap, I’ve missed another one!!
Little man is doing well, but that’s in spite off me, not because of any good parenting on my part. Take him away OH, just take him away.
So yeah, Diazepam is safe. Huge amounts can leave no serious ill effects, if caught. Diazepam is safe
Unless you combine it with alcohol………………..
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
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 figured out a way and it felt good. My arm is a mess but it feels good. Where the hell is the logic in that? I want to scald again.
Lorazepam on tap and more quietiapine. I believe the term “medical managment” was used Today.
So drug me till I’m stable and then what? Hoist me back to my reality. I’m not fixable. I’m incapable of change and I’m a waste of resources. Oh and did I mention how much fun level one obs are!!
Fuck sake just do it loopy, you coward.
OH and little man are doing great without me. I think that’s the way it should be. They’d be happier without me. I’m a horrible influence on their lives. I’m a horrible person.
I can’t be good for them. I can’t be what I need to be. I’m sorry.
I’m on a psych ward, eyeing up ligature points, and trying to find a gap to do it.
OH has done his back in.
Sis in law is away into labour…. and did someone mention a wee virus floating about.
I’m so fucking selfish. I want to hang. I want to pass out and not wake up.
There are two many things to solve and I’m making no progress here.
Although they do keep me rather sedated. Yup give the addict yet more pills!!! That will help, NOT!