Confidence

I told my lovely mentor that I had a little boost from a tutor in the revision session. I feel he may have over emphasised by saying I "smashed it".

She replied saying "i do agree with your tutor in that you probably will smash it! You are the best prepared out of all my students and thankfully more than ready for this exam."

I still can't deal with people being kind to me, especially those that my stupid brain has kind of fallen attached to.  When I suggested our next meeting her words were,

"this is your mentoring, you set the agenda"

There that part of me too that wishes someone would take the control away. I guess thats where K's theory of self sabotage comes in, maybe thats why I do it? But itz only because I don't feel I can manage things anymore.

Her last text?

"All the best for monday, although i have full confidence in your ability"

She replies to work stuff at weekends. She doesn't need to, but she does. She cares and right now I never want to let her go. She's like one of my uni mums. Yes, yet again I am that little girl who just was to feel loved and comforted.

She's not the first to say that, and I wish I shared their confidence.   But its not about my ability is it? Its about me managing my anxieties and keeping it all together.

Home for the weekend distracting myself with a bit of revision thrown in, but I know when sunday evening hits and then Monday morning comes..... well at least being one of the first I have less time to get worked up and can run away and hide soon after.

Although the plan is I meet someone so I'm not hyperventilating on my own. Don't know if she will be free at such short notice though.  I only got the exam details late tonight.

I want to pass, but I want to fall apart and let this all out my system and for people to see how I really feel inside at the same time.  Can I do both?

Comfort and Compassion

I'm so glad she's my GP.

After feeling like she didn't understand how much things had affected my before christmas, today I just felt that harsh and firm attitude had gone.  After telling her about the family arguments over christmas and how I was defending by all except the one who doesn't think before he speaks and doesn't care how he make others feel, as i sat with the tears rolling yet again, i'm sure there was a term of endearment used as she told be where the tissues were.  It's something i don't think i've ever heard from her before.

Its not just my family that i feel i have to make things up to, but there are a few professionals too and as she's been my GP for the past 8 years and saved my life literally by coming out to me or seeing me when i had jeopardised my life, not always meaning to at times, I feel i owe her a lot too.

She made me smile though the tears today though.

She said that it wasn't my fault that i came from "a wonky egg" and that it wasn't mum's either.

I do know that now, even if i do need reminding of it occasionally but as i responded to her, i find it hard feeling like i am still living a battle not a life. Do i really have to spend the rest of my life fighting rather than living?

She took my hand before I left.  It's a kind of a cross between a hand shake and that comforting holding of someone's hand.  It's the closest she'll ever (rightly) come to crossing that boundary.  But I know when she does take my hand that I've got it right somewhere and she's willing me to keep fighting.

An answer to her question

I was asked today if I want to stop doing the damage to myself that I've done in the last 10 days. I've lashed out so much. To go with the severe bruising to my arm which I ended up getting xrayed, there's now the 2 injuries that needed suturing which I did on the same day. The 2nd resulting in another trip to the minor injuries unit, where I was seen by the same nurse. Fortunately I was allowed to be patched up and leave which was all I was asking for.

I still can't open a door or lift anything heavy and the bruising is still quite apparent.  Its still keeping me awake at night too. I should have realised I'd lost control when I came home to see J and the shock on her face.  Sad really that I have to use the reaction of a nurse who has seen me at my worst, to gauge whether what I've done is worse than usual.  It shows me that I can't see what is really going on at the moment. I just feel like I've lost track of what I'm doing. Almost lost control.

Yet again I couldn't say that I want to stop. I told her how at the moment it is the fear of being without that coping mechanism.  I don't want to feel like this.  I don't want to feel like I'm clinging on. But I still can't say I want to stop.  It's like it's become part of my identity again and I don't know who I am without self harm.

I feel fine and safe and secure and almost reasonably relaxed while I'm shut in a room with the various people for meetings but when they are over and I'm back on my own life just feels overwhelming. How did it become like this again?  I saw one person a week for support and generally only my mentor for academic stuff when we were in lectures, yet the last few weeks I seem to be seeing one person per day. I never had any contact with out of hours support,  now I'm wishing I felt able to call every evening,  except that really is just taking advantage of help I feel. 

I'm not sure I have what it takes to do this career.  Too many flaws in my personality and character have resurfaced. I thought I'd moved on from them.  I thought I'd left behind the girl with attachment issues and the screwed up thinking.  It seems she's back. I find myself clingy and being conscious of what I say or do in case it shows. The temptation tonight to cause damage and harm to myself to express the distress in my head - to show people that it's really not ok. Those around me here who know the full details have seen it I think. But to get mum to realise?  Is that where I need to go? Will she not realise how much this has knocked me down unless I end up in hospital?

I don't want to go there and I thought the worst of the damage and harm was done but there's still that part of me that wants an easier route out of this.  That sensible part, that logical part that my mentor found so unbelievable is still clinging on. It's that part that despite being off my head on sedatives and alcohol and unaware what I was doing can still go to the library and get books out reasonably relevant to my course.  I don't remember any of it but the books and the receipt from 4.30am told me it happened.

I think what I want is for someone to take this all away from me. As much as these wonderful supportive people can be there for me, the decision is still mine. If I go too far and do something too dangerous and harmful,  there's that chance it will be taken out of my hands. The decision will be taken from me and I won't have to think anymore or have that weight on my shoulders.

But is that really what I want? Did I not come here to move on again in my life? I think my worry is that no matter how much I try I can't leave it behind,  which makes me question whether my career choice is right, despite none of these demons taking hold while I was at work.  Even when the patient came in who had self harmed,  yes it threw me for a bit but the next day was a new day and it didn't have a hold on me.  Where did my mental strength go to?  How have I ended up in this spiral and circle that has trapped me once again?

Do I want to stop harming?  I just can't say yes right now and once again I can't see my life without it.

Feeling human

I text my mentor earlier to let her know where to meet next week and also thank her for the session today as although it is her job I still wanted her to know I appreciate her time. I told her how I felt more human after the stresses and lows of the last 2 weeks,  but in doing so and thinking about it more and also on receiving her reply I realised that it possibly would be better to go back to how I have been managing. 

I left feeling a weight had been lifted from my shoulders, yet now,  7 hours on i just feel hurt, vulnerable, isolated and alone yet again.  I have barely cried in the last week but after a human, non-serious conversation this afternoon which felt fine, in fact I actually felt relaxed for once, while we were together during the session - I have now spent all evening rereading the reply to my text and wishing partly that I hadn't let her in because yet I feel like that scared, lost and lonely girl who just wants some comfort. 

I know that is not her role and I'm so conscious these days of not over stepping the boundaries after a teenage catalogue of disasters over issues like that. But at the same time that screwed up side of me is reappearing longing for physical comfort and someone to talk to and share my tears with.

This course is making me question whether my past has been resolved or whether the past 2 seemingly successful years have been a lie, ignoring a flaw within me that I will never escape.

Maybe this occupational health doctor is right to want a psych assessment of me?  Or maybe I've just let him put too much doubt in my mind. I do feel though that old insecurities are creeping back in but if I let anyone know it could spell the end of my journey and yet again I will viewed as the messed up little girl who can't let go or move on and is incapable of leading a 'normal' life.

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 today.....it 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.

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.

Tablets

As you may be able to tell from the title, it's not happy things in Susie's world right now. So if you are of a nervous (or too caring/a worrier) disposition then i suggest you read no further. And please no comments of go to hospital, just in case - because ITS NOT GOING TO HAPPEN!!!

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(isn't that pretty)

I'm falling, fast. Or rather i think i've fallen. 3 x 3 stitches in the last week. Lots of punching and hitting (not a lot else you can do whilst driving and trying to make your way home without crashing the car as in 2005).

I admitted to M today that the last 2 nights i've downed a handful of ibruprofen (with no affect i might add) and for some reason i feel the urge to do it again. I can't tell you why. That i do not know. All i know is the dissociation is getting worse. Monday whilst driving, Tuesday morning which sitting at home and worst episode was during psychotherapy session with TP.

Of that i recall very little other than the tunnel vision, bright lights and a dog barking, which is interesting because its in a building where that is a long way off the high street with a dental surgery in front and a car park behind. In all my years of going there, which is about 6 now - i have never heard any noise from outside the building. I was brought back to life by TP's next patient outside the door saying something about her car and needing to be there at quarter past the hour. I started to think that he had doubled booked. My appointment was at 3.10pm and i thought that it must be about 3.30pm which was why she was getting stressed because at 4.15pm she had to sort her car out.

No - it seems it was 4.10pm already and i'd been there an hour not 15 minutes as i thought. My thoughts about it now?

Oh Shit what did i say in that hour?
What the hell did i tell him?
How much information have i divulged that i really didn't mean to?

Perhaps thats why another handful of tablets seems insignificant. I want to escape this even more than my brain is already trying to help me do.

What i don't want to do is have mum find me again & end up in hospital with her thinking she's watch me die. I don't want to go to Shitty Ward either.

But hugs aren't enough to soothe things i've found. I was praying it would be. I thought that all i needed was a pair of safe arms to cry into. I've found those safe arms, which i'm probably just clinging onto because i feel so vulnerable right now, but yesterday it wasn't enough comfort. Today it felt better but there were other people around. I don't get sympathy off of Mrs A but i think thats a good thing, however she is happy to put her arm round me - which then caused me to cry further. There is someone else, another T, who i would willing go to for comfort right now, but she is almost 6 months pregnant and its not been straight forwards for her, so i can't put anything on her right now. But i think i would get the comfort. I need to learn that it isn't going to save me though.

Having said all of the above - want to hear something really funny? I've just redone my CV and written a covering letter. I'm applying for a job!

Ha Ha Ha!

There's nothing else you can say to that really.

Worth the wait

Appointment with K was at 6.12pm, i knew i'd never see her at that time, but i still got there 20 minutes early because i just needed to leave the house. I couldn't worry about the appointment with mum around me.

half a dozen people in the waiting room, but my favourite receptionist behind the desk. The people gradually disappeared, leaving me alone in a more than familiar room. I've lost track of the number of times i've sat there alone, waiting, last appointment on the list, crying, praying J, Susie or the receptionsts would stop and talk to me. maybe comfort me...

Today, once alone, i got up to talk to E - just like old times. But there was still the desk separating us. I also wanted to check how she was, and that she is still in remission from the nasty breast cancer. She said she was tired, but ok. She returned the question. I wasn't going to lie to her, how can you lie through tears anyway?

Normal appointment with K, nothing she can really do, but give me the security of knowing she's there for me. I foolishly suggested i might see if there was an appointment with J or Susie next tuesday, to try and save myself from a repeat of last tuesday - trouble is i'm not sure if i want to. They weren't available though, however K is.....Maybe if K sees what i feel like after seeing Terry Pratchett then she'll understand, and that doesn't mean i have to cause injury to express that.

After finally seeing K at 6.30pm (thats not a long wait for her! i have known her running an hour late), Half an hour with her; tears - parting comments from her about me "deserving a life" which resulted in more tears and trying to stop myself from getting angry, partly at myself, because i don't agree - not after all my screw ups & failures, and a couple more appointments. I was the last patient left in the building, with 3 reception staff waiting to let me go out & go home. Waiting for me.

The youngest had the keys & was about to let me out, when E, my favourite, took them and came out from behind the desk instead.

"As much as i love to see you, i hate seeing you like this & i don't want to see you too often"

Her care and compassion simply increased my tears. Her response was to put and arm round me, holding me closer to her.

"Aww, Don't cry babes"

I wish it could have been a longer hug. Without her worrying about professionalism, without me worrying someone would see & tell her off. It is a hug i've longed for & dreamed out for so long. It wasn't much, but something is better than nothing. She didn't have to take the keys to let me out, she chose to because she knows me better. She's known me over 10 years - she's one of the original gang. And she still cares. And i still dream.