Wednesday, 29 June 2011

"Even if it is broken......

......there's nothing that can be done anyway, is there?"

That was my response to K this morning when she asked me if i wanted an x-ray of my hand. If i had made a better job of punching then perhaps & even though i am in pain, couldn't make a fist for her, flinched every time she touched the knuckle it still doesn't mean there is anything that can be done.

She said to strap it up & stick it in a sling, which isn't really possible when driving & certainly can't happen when i'm at home or at the gym - that will attract even more attention to it. Trying not to show that i can't really use it for the pain is hard enough, especially at the gym. Have had to cancel a class tonight. A, i feel exhausted & B can't make a fist to punch properly. Might have felt different if it was a certain instructor, but its not her so i'm not too bothered. Off to the gym for a class in a bit anyway, so i still get one in at least. Not that my heart rate monitor is working to tell me how hard i'm working, don't think it will be that much anyway the way i feel today.

Think a sleep might be needed this afternoon. Would rather sleep right now but need to get my lazy arse into gear & get changed. I know i need to take a couple of detours too on the way, so i really should move off the sofa.

But before i forget one last thing, K was talking about starting me on a mood stabiliser, to even out the low dips that happen every so often. Maybe its because things have been this way for so long, but there sadly feels like a little security in feeling like this. Sure it might be nice to feeling less depressed but whats the point of feeling less depressed if i have nothing to do - no job etc. Then i'd just be a less depressed exercise addict, yet functioning benefit cheat with no future prospects, rather than a depressed, exercise addict, self hating & harming, pathetic, state scrounging fraud of a person.

I think i'd better stop there & go to the gym.

Sunday, 19 June 2011

Long time, no see

I saw someone today that i used to trust with my life and even though we haven't spoken in a couple of years, i would still trust her will all my secrets if i saw her again tomorrow.

I'm going to call her Rose, because i will never forget the day she told me i looked like a rose when i smiled. I was 13 years old & had been seeing her at school weekly (the benefits of going to a private school - they hire in a professional counsellor) for a couple of terms when one day i finally gave her a smile. It was a rare occassion where she saw a different glint in my eye - a slightly happier one.

I've always know she lives in the same village as me. I can recall on one occassion she gave me a lift home from school because she wanted to see me after school when she could give me more time to talk. I've bumped into her outside of school on a couple of occassions through amateur dramatics as a teenager. I'm not sure she actually saw me today as it was very busy with a fete going on. Or maybe it was because i was with mum, that she bypassed me. Mum saw her. Mum hates her. On one occasion Rose offered mum a session so she could talk about what went on in her childhood with her siblings & parents & the divorce with my dad. Mum didn't like the fact that Rose wanted her to talk about those issues. As far as i know she had never done so before then. As a result mum now hates Rose, yet as i said i would trust her with my life.

When we parted as i left school & our professional relationship ended, she told me that if i ever wanted her as a friend she would do her best to help me. Its not the same as being able to spill my heart & soul though. I think i took her up on that offer once, when i wanted the phone number of the local Samaritans rather than the national number, to save my mobile phone credit, whilst babysitting. I knew it was in our village magazine & she was the only person i could think of to call to aks, who might have the magazine. Needless to say the number is now saved in my phone. Perhaps i should remember that at this present time. Rose's number is still saved there too, but i'm not sure its right to call her, depsite what she said those years ago.

Seeing Rose made me wish she was still my counsellor. For a year she supported me before telling me i should see my GP as she thought this was more than the teenage blues, by that time i had been feeling low & scratching my wrists for 2 years. She was right & its thanks to her that i sought professional help. I still wonder, if had i not taken her advice, whether i would have gone through all the professional services that i have, but then i think the same about my first hopsital admission & my entry into inpatient services. However i also look back & remember how many weeks i saw Rose & sat there & cried (some things don't change) and how after a year of seeing Rose once a week, i then started cutting in the summer holidays - when i didn't have her support.

Its probably because everything is bottled up inside of me right now but i wanted to talk to her, tell her how things aren't good, let my eyes well up & take comfort from her. In my head, she'd put her arm around me & we'd go for a walk, away from the crowds & she's listen to the things i can't trust anyone else with. I'd brush my hair away from my face & she'd see the blue bruising on the back of my hand & knuckles, knowing the signs....... But of course with mum there i'd be lucky to say hello. I didn't. I couldn't.

I wish i had said something & ignored the fact that she was saying hello to someone behind me. Perhaps thats why she didn't see me because she had spotted someone else before me, i still could have pulled her attention back towards me, yet i didn't. I could have walked back towards her, followed her & initiated a conversation once she had finished speaking. Instead i followed mum, left my mind crying for her & ended up wanting to be back hiding at home wishing we had never gone out in the first place.

The only good thing about seeing her - reassurance. Reassurance that she is still around & maybe the hope that one day we'll talk again.

Wednesday, 15 June 2011

Hiding the damage

I made it to the gym, however i then proceeded to hit the boxing trainer harder & harder. I am now trying to keep my purple & blue knuckles hidden from view. The physio noticed straight away so I've tried to cover them with camoflage make up & mum's foundation - but i think i have actually managed to pop a blood vessel in the left hand, as its not just my knuckles its the whole of the back of my hand that is blue & there was certainly a huge lump over the vessel after i'd done it. If mum has noticed she hasn't said anything yet. I think the big problem is going to be trying to cook dinner.

I hate to say it but i'm disappointed there's nothing broken. The pain has reduced, Mr physio had a quick check too and i have enough movement there. I was going to go & see J, but the surgery was closed for training this afternoon and by the time i'd been to physio they felt better, so there was no point. I know there was a point with regards to how it happened - the fact that i chose not to wear my gloves & then pound my fists for two 10 minutes sessions, feeling the pain as i went. But thats not a good enough reason.

I want to keep going & smash my fists up even more but we're going to the theatre with Nan on saturday & i'm probably going to struggle to hide the current bruising from her.

If anyone asks my story is that i simply forgot my gloves and only noticed the marks on my hands after. And i'm sticking to it.

Time to resurface

It's time to resurrect Susie. I disappeared not because i wanted to to but because i screwed up. I managed to send an email to my whole personal address book but from my blog account. I am praying very hard that no-one then googled the name & blog and that if they have, they respect my privacy enough to not read it when i release the gag on Susie Belle - or at least even if they do read & know my true identity that they keep very very quiet about it & bascially pretend they have never even read it! Even when speaking to me, if i thought i was speaking to someone who knew my inner thoughts i really do think i would be tipped over the edge.

That's partly why Susie is coming out of hiding because there is too much going around in my head & i have nowhere to put that stuff. I can't tell people whats really going on, I'm ashamed of what goes around in my head & i'm terrified of what people will think of me. There is, however, still that part of me that wants to show people i'm really struggling. Its that part of me that wants to self destruct, cause damage to the point where i need physical help to cope with the injury i've caused. I could go to someone for sutures yet still i don't. That isn't severe enough to warrant outside help, i can deal with that myself. The chemical burn issue is still in my head but all that happened last time was i ended up making 30 mile round trips to a plastic surgery unit & wasting petrol & i have barely enough money for petrol as it is right now. Plus i can't be bothered with the hassle of extra appointments. I seem to have enough of those right now. I'm sure i'll get to the point where i lose control enough & dissociate from my actions to the point where i need help eventually. I normally do when i feel things building like this.

I requested my notes from the sessions with TP a while back & i got them last week. The only real information i got was a summary letter from TP to Dr L, which was actually quite enlightening & kind of changed my opinion of him, or at least made me see him in a slightly different light. However of course this has then been playing on my mind, to the point that he appeared in my nightmare the other night. It was as though i was watching from above.

I was in his office & he was asking me to redo a computing profiling assessment. He was calm, kind, almost affectionate, telling me that he would know if i had lied in my answers. He then left the room, saying he needed to get something from the secretary. After he left the background voice (my own voice) started on about the fact that someone was watching me. I got up looked around the room, checking for cameras trying to reassure myself that i was being paranoid. However i didn't spot the pinhole camera which was feeding ack to TP outside. The background voice kept on and i lost my temper, grabbing a letter opener on TP's desk and started stabbing my thigh. TP ran in & tried to restrain me, yet i was as though i didn't see him there, like i was no longer in control of my actions. He tried to get me to focus on him but it was like he didn't exist & i just kept fighting. Other staff members soon followed and assisted in the restraint.

It has left me slightly confused. Did i make a mistake in not going to the last session? Should i have tried harder? But think about how i felt after each session. I needed sutures after each one and the nightmare has caused the same problem. In one of the final sessions i dissociated and recall little of the session, other than a dog barking & his next patient arriving (except i thought we were at the beginning & he had doubled booked). I'm going to show M the letter & brief attendance details, where the final entry says 'split off', as she has still seen nothing about the sessions despite being my care co-ordinator. There is one thing that really concerns me in the letter "When we came to the end of the three additional meetings following her discharge from hospital..." WHAT??!! I don't recall being in hospital in 2010! I went abroad for 2 weeks but i don't recall any other time away anywhere. I am hoping that this is a mistake on his part & that i haven't blocked something else out. One of the first things to check with M.

I think thats enough for now. I should really be getting myself to the gym. 2 hours worth today. I'm shattered but it still doesn't feel like enough although i am nearly back down to 53kg only 3 more to where i want to be - where i should be. Its been bloody hard work though, even harder when you are mentally exhausted. Ever tried doing a step class with images of the nightmares from the night before flashing before your eyes? Not easy & not easy to hide from those who know you either. B said she could see i was struggling with something & left me alone, probably a good job too as i would have cried i expect. She's the little comfort i get right now, and sometimes i wish she didn't get me that, as i just want more. I want a full blown hug, but instead i leave the gym and some my heart out in my car before driving home. Maybe one day she'll catch me, not that the comfort i crave is going to solve anything & take it away. Plus she has enough going on with her eldest anyway, she doesn't need me & my issues.

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