No excuses

Theere are no excuses for my abscence.

I just haven't felt like blogging.

There still been plenty going on. Maybe there's been too much going on. I don't do very well with time management; My room is a tip, I haven't completed the extra bits on the volunteer project i've been doing, I haven't started the college (yes i'm attempting to study again)assignment i got monday (its now Friday), I'm trying to get fundraising bits sorted for my run (paper forms & cards with online sponsor page, just a T-shirts & the emailing round/publicity to do) - oh & i'm still trying to lose all the weight i gained over Christmas. Probably about half a stone, but its not just over eating at christmas, its huge lack of exercise due to illness too. So that flat tummy i worked so hard to gain has gone. But i need to be thinking about running really as i am extremely behind with training. So for now it will be running 4 days a week, yoga/pilates etc 4 times a week, a couple of my beloved classes on a sunday (although one of them is one of those 4 yogaish ones) and fridays i may do a weights class but taking it gently.
Except for half term & tutorial weeks when i get the chance to do classes with instructors i really miss doing classes with.

That kind of brings me onto why i've returned. The nightmare last night was that mixture of painful upsetting because it was comfort that i know will never happen & very distressing because it was dragging up some of the worst of the past. I can't recal the order of events but it included all of these points:

• M, an instructor i miss doing classes with rescuing me when my car broke down & i was very distressed & taking me back to her place


• Where my psych called me and told me i was going to be sectioned (It was my first adult services psych who couldn't really speak english & grabbed my arm & pushed up my sleeve to see my scars - funnily enough i always hated him) when i asked why it was due the arm band marks that mum had seen on my tummy - which apparently made me a danger to myself (WTF goes on in my head while i'm asleep?!)


• I told M it would be fine as i hadn't been harming, so i'd go but they had no grounds to section me.


• Except they did. horrible psych was there with another of my current instructors R who was trying to get him to see the benefits of the classes while he just said it was me damaging myself. There was another bloke in the room i was in too & i can't recall what but he doesn't have a positive feel attached to him - quite the opposite.


• Somewhere along the lines i was talking to someone at a yard who was telling me she had met me before when i'd had a car accident with a horse box, but i was sure that i had only had one serious incident which didn't involve anyone else (which is true). I felt all confused in the dream but kind of confused when i woke up too. Its like the dream was becoming reality and i couldn't separate the 2.


• There was something else too about getting ready for a party & getting the theme wrong & then we were at this restaurant & someone dropped the game of battleships & mum & i were trying to find all the little pieces. All though there were no familiar faces other than mum, it still didn't feel like a happy dream. like there was something underlying which still makes me want to wake up & cry.

Which is pretty much what i did - well on the car on the way here, to college. Is it a bit risky blogging from college? That does seem to be a big theme with me right now - Apathy. I couldn't give a shit about anything. Its taken me a month to start stressing about the weight gain - stressing to the point of harming at least and even then i couldn't be bothered to do that damage i felt i wanted too.

Anyway in 7 minutes i need to be in class where we are giving indvidual presentation - just what i need!

Eating Disorder? Nah i'm not losing weight! (calorie details warning)

Yesterday was the London ED Unit appointment. Had to be there for 1pm so yesterday morning i got up, went for a 2 mile run and then left on my 2 hour journey (30 minute drive, 1 hour tube, 30 minute walk). Should have worn my HRM on my journey to see hour my very brisk power walking improved calorie burning. But i didn't so when i go back to the town where the car was i went the gym & did 45 minutes of weights & abs.

So do i have an Eating Disorder? well she didn't really say yesterday, although she didn't fob me off. My description of my diet & a 2-3 mile a day seemed to be enough. I failed to mention the hour in the gym that i also do 5 days a week.

I wonder what she would have thought of today. I want to tell someone because i feel so so proud, but then i also know its not something everyone would understand. I'm not even sure M would be on my side with this one. What i do know is i love my heart rate monitor!

So today's activities:

• at the gym for 8.10am, dump stuff in locker, change shoes
• 5 min walk warm up, Training of Run 15 mins, walk 5, run 15. During the training time i managed to cover 3.3 miles all good progress. 5 min walk cool down. (HRM: 405)
  
• The back to changing rooms, change shoes, have cereal bar, refill water bottle and go to first class.
• LBT class 50 mins (HRM: 317)
• Step class straight after (HRM: 423)

I left the gym on a complete high, no pain from injury & i felt alive. I think a great new step routine helped there. After than i had bits to do at home, mum was home off work, she's still not right after the car accident. Lots of washing (hmmm, some of which is still in the tumble drier....) and then off to teach someone about computers & the internet. So not overly active this afternoon but after burning over 1100 this morning i don't think i needed to be jumping up and down all the time.

As for the eating side, if i don't know exact calorie details i always make sure i over-estimate, so according to the food diary the final total with be 1300 by the time i go to bed.

Now if that regime doesn't lose me this spare tyre goodness knows what will. I know today was more extreme than normal, i mean calorie intake is normally around that, although we are going out for dinner tomorrow night so i'd better behave during the morning and at lunch! But exercise sessions normally total about 400 right now, although as running times increase that will too i guess.

But if i feel that good after 3 hours on a friday morning, i don't care. Makes me sad to think that as soon as i get a job i'll lose that. Guess it will just mean very early runs and evening classes to get the work done.

This is why i don't trust my MH team/trust

A story (*Suicide warning*) in the local paper just popped up on my facebook feed, it shows me that i am right to not trust my crisis team, or any of the local MH team in my area. This story is about the same team who sent me -someone well known to them, including the nurse who assessed me that day/morning/night (i don't recall what time of day it was) & well know for being a massive danger to myself - home, after an OD that left me unconscious & seizing.

Obviously places, names and any other details that might give my identity and location away have been removed. (So its bascially just the outline of the story!)

Depressed man killed himself three hours after hospital discharge

By Court Reporter

THREE hours after a depressed man was discharged from hospital, he jumped in front of a train still wearing his pyjama top and NHS identity tag, an inquest heard.

Mr Patient, 46, of A Nearby Town, was assessed by a mental health nurse at The local Hospital, Scummy Town, September 13, 2008. The medic decided he was calm and co-operative and allowed him to go home an inquest at Court Town was told today.

Mr Patient, of a close, down a Lane, was not having any further thoughts of suicide at that time and was optimistic, the nurse (not a nurse i recognise) told the Coroners Court.

The skilled handy man was discharged at 11am with arrangements for follow up care in the community.

However, at 1.45pm, he jumped from the platform at Edge of Scummy town station in front of the 80mph town to city train.

The inquest heard that Mr patient had left a letter at his place of work which was recovered later.

The coroner was told that Mr patient had a history of depression, suicidal thoughts and self-harm and was well known to local mental health services.

He had recently suffered a relationship breakdown and on September 11, he was treated in hospital after drinking a large quantity of alcohol. He said he was feeling depressed.

Mr Nurse, a registered mental health nurse with the Crisis Assessment Treatment Team for 'local county' NHS Foundation Trust, told the inquest he had dealt with another patient and was asked to see Mr Patient, even though it was 2am. (even through it was 2am?? The crisis team are meant to be 24hrs are they not? why else are they based at the hospital MH unit and doing night shifts??!!)

Mr Patient agreed to the 45 to 60 minute interview and the nurse said he was aware of his history and the state of his relationship.

He told the inquest: "When we saw him, he was calm, he was co-operative, was willing to speak to us and engage with us.

“While he was tearful about his circumstances, he did tell us he felt safe to go home, he was not having any further thoughts of suicide at that time and was being optimistic about addressing his problems."

Mr Nurse said that in his professional view, Mr patient did not meet the criteria to be detained under the Mental Health Act.

British Transport Police coroner's officer told the inquest the train driver of the 1.30pm service from the north town saw a man standing within the yellow lines at the platform edge at edge of scummy town station. He sounded the horn and the man stepped back. However, Mr transport officer continued: "Then the male ran towards the platform edge and jumped off the platform in front of the train. Mr patient was wearing a pyjama top and a hospital identity bracelet with a patient number and had a hospital discharge form, said Mr transport officer. The coroner recorded a verdict that Mr patient, who died from multiple injuries, killed himself.

This story is why if i am ever ill i will not go to that nearest hospital that is 15 minutes away (that and bad memories) but would rather go to a hospital that is twice the distance. And i actually chose to do that when K sent me to hosiptal with a self harm injury this time last year. I just have to remain consciousness enough and know what i'm doing to remember to refuse that hospital - which with the OD last year, mum did what she thought was right and i was in no state to call those shots.

Of course hopefully i will not get that depressed again, or lose control to that extent.

My favourite rule breaker

She always took her lanyard & name badge off when she took me out, escorting me to the shops, for a walk or even to the hospital canteen.

She always had perfect (fake) nails. I'd sit at her feet if there was no room on the sofa and she'd tickle/scratch the back of my neck.

She used to wear Burberry Weekend perfume, which is a fragrance that comforts me to this day. The memories of her breaking more rules, giving me a hug almost every shift i saw her.

Today i was reminded why i don't got to Hospital Town. Not only are there too many bad memories, people i don't want to be reminded of or ever meet again, but there are a few (literally 3 or 4) people who bring tears to my eyes every time i see them.

I saw her before she spoke to me.

"Hi Su."

She was pushing a wheelchair with an elderly lady clearly from the hospital, as she was still wearing hey lanyard & name badge whilst taking this lady around the supermarket to get her shampoo (which is typically the only reason we were actually there!).

I felt a wave of anxiety take over me and a surge of tears just fighting their way past my eyelashes. Mum looked at me and told me that it was in the past and to "leave it there." I told her that i wasn't going to even bother trying to explain what was going on in my head (and why i was about to burst into tears) but that the reason seeing CaS was upsetting because "she was one of the few staff who gave a shit".

I held it back so much, had i been on my own i would have walked out of the shop there and then and sobbed my heart out in my car. Today i couldn't though. I can't let mum see how much things are really affecting me, like when we bumped into Boss from the farm during lunch.

I'm really starting to struggle in hiding and supressing a heck of a lot of crap. I want to fall apart so badly, but i can't upset mum and i have to make sure Nan gets her 2 week holiday in July, and even after that i can't fall apart because i would still hurt them too much. Mum said it was in the past and to leave it there much i don't think she realises how close things always feel to S ward becoming a reality again. It's not as close as last November but its always a possibility.

Once you've been on the books, you always are.

What happened to you?

I bumped into a MH nurse who worked on the PICU when i was down there. Actually at the time she was a mature student nurse. I recall her being so kind & caring, warm and comforting, so i decided not to shy away and avoid her but to say hello.

We talked while she packed & paid for her shopping and continued talking as we walked to our cars. But she wasn't anything like i remember, and now works for the crisis team having qualified. There was no warmth, less compassion, more synicism, firmness and detachment. Is this what happens 6 years after qualifying, or has she just been working with all the other miserable jobs worths at my local MH unit?

She was one of the first to offer me comfort when i was upset, yet now it was as though it was all in my head - Ok, so mental health issues are in your head, but you know what i mean - as though i made it up, and was using my past as a sofa. She was saying about how i had learnt certain behaviours and now depended on them, even if this was subconsciously. Maybe i do or maybe things have changed in the last 6 years and she doesn't know me anymore.

I hope i'm not the person she knew 6 years ago and i hope she's not really turned into the cold person she came across as.

Ghosts from the past

I was doing fine. I'd managed to make an effort with clothes, jewelery & make-up. I finally decided on ordering a starter but as a main course portion, but in fairness the menu was huge and we were handed 3 separate bits of paper to attempt to decide from, most of which was meat. In fact there was no lighter option so i think i did quite well. I'd even managed to enjoy a small pudding too, although 2 tough gym classes, a walk into town to get some space and time out in between, and then an afternoon of depression & nothingness and an hours sleep meant few enough calories consumed to be able to relax about going out tonight to eat.

I'd actually managed to make it through the evening without it feeling like a forced happiness where i have to go to the ladies to have a quick cry.

Almost made it out of the door, but then you walked in. I'm pretty sure you didn't see me, but i never forget a face, especially one i spent a few months basically living with.

The psych ward 2004 once i'd worked my way back up from the PICU. When you arrived you were a psychotic bitch who refused to talk to anyone, not because you were too depressed or anything, but the psychosis turned to you into a super bitch who was far too high & mighty to talk to anyone. After being dosed up on whatever anti psychotics Dr L decided to put you on, you changed. No longer 'super bitch' just simply 'bitch'. You were at least talking to people once you were well, but just talking to them like they were imbeciles & you were far better than them. Like when you told me that the show jumping on TV was easy & how could i ever know what jumping six foot was like if i had never jumped that high. All i said was that it was amazing how they never fell forwards when the horse landed, and that i didn't think i could do it.

I spent 4 months longer in that hospital than you did, you have no idea what it was like on the PICU & i expect you would have been beaten to a pulp had you acted that way if you were on the PICU. You had enough trouble with the lovely pregnant psychotic eastern european girl who spoke no english. She never faced up to me but then i was the one trying to distract her from your threatening stares. I've seen her since with her baby, completely healthy & doting mother. Tonight your eyes were stone cold, as though nothing had changed. Like me though you were still with your parents.

It brought back so many memories & now they won't go away. No doubt i'm in for a night of hellish dreams/nightmares too no matter how tired & exhausted i am.

Talking, Shouting and Crying.

I can't talk to mum about my problems/issues calmly. It always results in my crying and shouting - well raising my voice.

I think i've pretty much decided that i don't want the skin graft. I think if they were going to go it they should have done it 5 weeks ago. I've been trying to explain to mum my reasons for not having it done. I am struggling with my 3 month pregnant look and hideous weight as it is. The thought of not being able to go the the gym (which i plan to start with my guest passes tomorrow, and then boxercise before the hospital on tuesday) or even being able to walk very far i expect due to a wound/scar on my thigh - it fills me with even more fear.

Mum just told me she slept last night for the first time in a week because she is so worried about me. She said when i go into "full on mode", saying i'm going to do this that and the other (C1 driving licence etc) she knows i'm heading for a big fall.

Great! So everytime i try and do something positive in life now, it is going to be seen as me heading for a fall. So basically i'm never going to be able to try and get on with my life because people are just going to expect me to crash instead.

The fact that its been 8 days since any harm (i don't count hits and gentle punches, i know it is kind of harm but everyone kicks/hits an inanimate object now and then, i just tend to hit myself instead.) which is longer than its been in months. I guess the problem is i can't share that with mum.

I don't know what i can do to show i'm trying, it just seems to go completely unnoticed. Yes, i am still struggling, crying myself to sleep everynight and at least once during the day. But the struggling seems to be what people see rather than my efforts.

Mum made me look at the photo i had done for a makeover/photo shoot last year. She thinks it looks great, even though i am a stone underweight in the photo. What i tried to explain (in a rather raised voice) is that i hate that photo, i hate looking at it every single day, because it reminds me of how skinny i was, and what a bloated, fat monster i've become. I told her i knew she was worried i'd go back to 5 stone but as i told her, i didn't like looking like a skeleton and i did know how much it hurt her for me to see me like that. But i explained i'd rather be skinny that the podge i've become now.

She said my stomach just needed toning up. Stop making excuses mum!!! you can't tone up fat FFS! i need to lose the fat before any toning can be done.

Bring on tomorrow and the gym. Trouble is, D is off work all next week. I hope he goes out like he said he might. Mum was saying how he's be around to take me to hospital appointment etc. I know they want to help but by them being there i end up more stressed and with more pent up emotion that i can't release in front of them.

The idea of booking a room somewhere and running away is starting to appeal again.

What a week...

By Tuesday it was all too much. I wanted to sleep, to escape. i don't know what i took when but the cocktail i swallowed i thought in my mind would just let me escape the world for a bit, but i don't think i realised how out of control i was already.

The last thing i remember is buying some over the counter sedatives tesday afternoon (i think).

Poor mum came home to find me semi-conscious in bed, and some how got me in the car and off to A & E, where apparently i had a seizure while being assessed, and then again after being moved to Resus. I woke Wednesday morning on EMU (emergency medical unit), with mum still by my side. I finally got passed all the doctors, nurses, crisis team's checks at 11pm that night.

Mummy, i'm sorry. i just needed to escape the thoughts in my head. I wish i could be a better daughter to you.

Maybe with my tongue half covered in ulcers where i bit so badly it during the seizures, this is the kick start i need to get my eating and weight back under control.

I want them to go now. I feel bad for saying it but i feel so desperate now that i wish i had no family. I wish that guilt factor would go away - so i can go away.

Mum starting saying how she'd been thinking what it would be like if i wasn't around; my room used for another purpose, my car not parked outside the house, my bag not under the stairs, my laptop not in the lounge....... She didn't say those particular things. She didn't get that far, i was already crying and she was close to it.

I keep wishing i'd wake up and my life so far has all been one long dream, but i know thats not going to happen.

I know i'm hurting her simply by being depressed and the self harm, but in the long run is that any better than the ultimate hurt?

She wants me to be alive and safe but she ultimately want me to be content too. I feel right now that there is only one way i can feel at peace. This much i did tell K today. I think the only reason she hasn't had me sectioned me is because she believes in the strength of my love and attachment for my mother.

But in not being able to be at peace, the thoughts of harm, unbelievable damage, are so strong. The demon says that no-one would ever know, and that i could manage the wounds, that it would be our secret just like ED said it would.

The force is getting stronger each day and i'm really not sure how much longer i can battle it, i do feel this is going to result in an ultimate sectioning or hospitalisation. Maybe the crisis centre in London is worth a try, even if it is 5 days of relative safety.

Susie Belle isn't well.....

There may be a bit of a break in posts. I'm emotionally and physically exhausted. I'm booked in for a minor op next week. relationships are home are disasterous, no words at all after a huge argument tonight.

I'm a mess basically.

Mama

"She Used to be my enemy and never letting me be free,

catching me in places that I know I shouldn't be,

Every other day I crossed the line

I didn't mean to be so bad,

I never thought you would become a friend I never had

Back then I didn't know why,

Why you were misunderstood,

So now I see through your eyes,

all that you did was love

Mama I love you,

Mama I care,

Mama I love you,

Mama my friend,

You're my friend

I didn't want to hear it then but I'm not ashamed to say it now,

Every little thing you said and did was right for me,

I had a lot of time to think about,

about the way I used to be,

Never had a sense of my responsibility."

J made me realise last night why it is that i can't find the comfort & security in mum's arms that i crave when i feel so fragile and low. She said she thought i was right in saying it is because i don't want to hurt mum and show her how fragile and, i suppose, ill (i hate using that word but after K's words last week and the deterioration since, i think i need to admit it) i am again.

All i was is to be held in someone's arms and so i can cry my eyes out, somewhere safe and warm. I certainly could have done with that at midnight last night when i was wondering around the village. But as J said, "we could do that. but what then?" and i suppose she's right. I think i'd never was to let go. Certainly not while i'm feeling like this. Perhaps thats why i'm thinking about S ward, because i know there's the most caring HCA there who knows the importance of a hug when its needed. But that really isn't a reason to go back there. I think my main reasons where to escape the black hole, but i need to remember the black hole will come with me and at least home here i have meds at my own disposal and if i need to harm to stop the demon in my head, i can.

J's right. S ward is not the place to be.

Crash

The breakdown came. The tears flowed morning, noon and thereafter. A phonecall, a trip to the minor injuries unit & an emergency GP appointment.

There was so much comfort i wanted yet so little i got. From K, the nurse who patched me up, No. From my boss briefly, but from his dog plenty! I think if i'd asked the newer receptionists (who don't know my detailed and unsettled history with the doctors surgery and my teenage attachments with staff there) i may have got a hug but i purposely didn't accept their offers to sit behind reception to hide my distress from others because i really wanted to try and leave that troubled teenage longing behind. It was too hard though and just caused more tears and sobs. G seemed to understand this when i explained it to her, and it was nice to know that there's someone there who understands and knows my fears and panic.

Seeing K felt so safe in her room. I knew the destruction wasn't going to happen there, and i knew i could cry as much as my eyes would let me (which seems to be infinite). She gave me 2 different PRN meds for anxiety and panic, one for psychological and one for the physical symptoms. And the anti-depressant, which was the original reason for the telephone consultation, has been changed yet again to Sertraline (Zoloft or Lustral), hopefully no more sleeping but a lift in mood again.

I can handle mild depression, maybe even moderate but when it reaches severe and/or destructive, it's too much to manage alone.

K told me to call her in the week if things got out of control, i don't want to phone her because i know if the meds don't contain things the next step is one i don't want to take. I'm not going back to Serpent Ward, i know i don't really want to. Yet the place has been playing on my mind, day dreams almost like flashback about the place. Something inside me has been questioning whether a rest there would be an escape for a while but as i realised when i was saying all this to K, it's not going to let me escape from me mind and what goes through my head.

K tells me she's pleased with me, but everytime she tell me i struggle to accept it. She say i've come a long way and i understand what she means. As a teenager i would have overdosed or run away when feeling like this, but instead i ran to her - i ran to her for help. It just doesn't feel very different to those previous years, up here, in my head. The thoughts are the same, the destructive demon inside my mind still compels me to do the same things. The main difference is my age, my maturity - i've grown up. I think of others now. Mum, in particular. I was semi honest tonight after trying to put up the front. She still doesn't know how bad things got today, at least i hope she doesn't.

K always brings me back to reality. After sorting out short term meds and changing the other over, i mentioned her earlier suggestions of a stabiliser to go with the anti depressant. I wasn't meaning there and then, i simply wanted her to know i was thinking of it. Her words:

"perhaps this is not the time to think about that, when you are so acutely ill right now."

Acutely Ill. I'm verging on hospital. I'm even considering it myself! She's right. Things aren't good. I need to stop denying it. I'm just hoping today's crash was the bottom and that there's no further to fall.





P.S I don't think Eastenders helped a great deal but i felt i needed to watch it, as though i was being cowardly if i didn't. But that scene with Stacey Slater is very similar to how my first hospital admition came about. Police, chases round the village, ambulance journey to A & E and a sobbing mother & daughter. I was 14 at the time though and went willingly to escape, so sectioning wasn't necessary on that occassion.

Dear Diary - July 2006 (contains strong language)

Written whilst on section 3 on the local psychiatric ward.

16th July 2006

"All people do in this place is eat. No wonder they're so overweight. They sit on their arses all day & put on the pounds. They're all fucking fat & crazy! You can't have a sensible conversation with anyone. If i go home i can go to the fruit farm, relax know that no-one is watching me. I'll eat dinner because otherwise mum will get angry. I can't eat their processed crap they serve here. They have no fresh fruit juice. The choice is calorie filled hot chocolate or soup if you want a hot drink or nasty squash.
By the end of today it will be 4 days fasting. I'm trying to decide whether to get a drink or not. I think i'll try and make it last throughout the day but i'm not sure if i can do it. So maybe to make life easier, I shouldn't bother at all.
Perhaps I'll just try cleaning my teeth & see if that gets rid of the urges.
Hopefully my monday they will see i need to be at home where i can cook my own food & know what i'm eating, not eat their processed crap that probably hides goodness knows what in it. why can't they see i'll be better off there? why don't they understand."





17th July 2006

"Its so frustrating when you can't share your delight with anyone - *st *lb with clothes on - so *st *lb which is *lb!! & to think i was struggling to reach *lb last week.
Yet i can't share it with anyone as they think its a bad thing.
S & A (CPNs) were right tho - i now have a new target *lb which makes it *kg.
But its the fact that people can see i'm not even skinny yet really, so why are they bothered about me eating?
Today is going to be a no cal, water only day - i can't jeopardise my new target.
Problem is i'm going to have to try and find someone who isn't going to tell. J (staff nurse) said she wouldn't last night but i'm not too sure. I'm thinking L (charge nurse) would be a good person to check it out with & when C (NA) gets back, i know she'll help me.
But i can't risk any temptations bought in by mum - not while i have no exercise available (apart from my yoga, I tried but got very interrupted!) & certainly not while i have no scales available freely to keep an eye on things! But its headed in the right direction & thats a start."