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!

I don't know what i want at the moment. I don't see a future. It is purely day to day. I get up throw myself at the gym & exhaust myself. In the last 9 days i have done 22 classes plus a 15 minute run plus exercise walking at the stables of about 4 hours in that time.

I'm going to try & cut back in the next week. Either i've exhausted myself or i'm anaemic again, either way the blood test J took yesterday will tell. I booked the appointment friday evening, as i drove home from the supermarket i could feel panic overwhelming me, the dizzyness was stronger & i just felt desperate. I think it was more psychological than physiological friday evening, so i was glad that as i was asking the new-ish receptionist for an appointment with J, E came out and when i replied to her question that i wasn't ok & the tears starting rolling down my face, whilst holding onto my hand over the counter, telling me how well i'd been doing, she told the new girl to unblock a certain reserved appointment (probably an emergency slot that would open up on the morning of that day) so that i could see J straight after the weekend.

Part of me wished E hadn't taken my hand because i wanted more comfort, just like when i collapsed into the ex-bosses arms when i saw him & he had crept up behind me giving me a shoulder massage. My mind flew back 10 years when she had given me a hug, before i crossed the line & got too attached. Although of all the staff she is still the one who will reach out & give me some physical reassurance.

I feel frustrated. frustrated that i don't know what i want. Angry that government organisations won't give me the answers i need. Angry that part of me doesn't want to accept help & is almost happy for things to stay this way, with me harming myself & losing weight, angry because i know i should want to be normal without appointment & the need for help. Yet frustrated that i can't lose control & cause the damage i want to for fear of upsetting my family. Part of me wishes that the cut catch a blood vessel & don't stop bleeding like a few years back, so that i have to try & get myself to the surgery to pray that J & K can stop it, but knowing at the same time that then they know whats really going on in my head.

I think thats the problem, i still feel that if the damage doesn't show physically then no-one will really understand whats going on in my head.

No-one can see the images i see - reliving the past, the damage i caused, the incidents that happened, the stress of being chased my police after absconding, sleeping in a church yard over night when i was on a section 3 and should have been on the ward. No-one can see the thoughts i have, the things i really want to do. How i want to damage my arms, expect if i started wearing long sleeves again now, especially when i go to the gym constantly - it would be too obvious.

I need to go to bed. i can feel that crying myself to sleep is the only way to release this tonight & i know as soon as my head hits the pillow, if not before, the tears will be falling.

Nightmares (gets horror movie style at the end)

I was so pleased to be woken up by mum closing my door to this morning. I felt trapped in the last part of the nightmare. It was as though i was aware of them moving around next door but i couldn't escape the nightmare which was just about to develop into a horror movie.

From when i remember, it started with being on a ship or ferry or some kind of boat, which capsized and sunk with us inside. Must have got out though, not sure how, don't really remember the end of that dream.

Then there was something about going to a theatre with mum. That seemed harmless, nothing nasty there.

The next bit was back to the hospital setting. I seemed to be coming back off leave, except i wasn't allowed to go to my room on my own & was followed by 2 members of staff. My room had be turn upside down by builders but in the process they had broken a chocolate figure i had (something i was keeping as an ornament, not planning on eating) & it was now a headless figure. I started to lose my temper and look round the rest of the room which was filthy. The toilets hadn't been flushed, there had been a rabbit living in the room & there was straw & rabbit poo everywhere. It was a shit hole basically.

I then seemed to be outside the ward & saw a bloke i knew, he was with 3 others getting out of a car & rushing to a house. I stopped one of the other guys & asked him if i could go with them, he told me he didn't think i really wanted to do that. It seemed to dawn on me that they were about to go & section someone. I asked this other guy if i knew him, is said he worked at Goldsmith (which i appeared to know as a secure unit across the other side of the county) but he also said that he met me when i was there. I told him i hadn't been an inpatient there, however he told me other wise. At that point my words were "Oh shit" and i remember thinking "How many other places have i been or been sectioned to and remember nothing about?"



Now comes the horror movie bit



The row of houses that they were going into was an area of supported housing for those with severe learning difficulties. This then changed to one house in the countryside where a mother had got her daughter with Downs Syndrome to lure this young girl to their house with the help of another lad. In the back garden there was a bridge over a large pond, but it seemed to be moving towards us (i seemed to be there just as an observer) & the disabled girl had a large piece of paper which she fed through this machine that was attached to the underside of the bridge. It cut this paper into thinner slices, a bit like a meat slicer. I could see the young lured girl standing in front of his bridge unaware as it was coming towards her, i could see what was going to happen, i felt like i was screaming inside for it to stop & although i'd already imagined what had happened, i didn't see it happen in the dream, which at least felt like it wasn't so real and graphic.

Which was why i sprang out of bed this morning and now an hour later have filled myself with caffeine tablets, painkiller, a light breakfast & am now going to go to the gym and start a 3 hour exercise session. 1000 calories here we come!

Confidentiality

This meeting is driving me insane. I had a good chat about it with M today. She offered to come to it - if i could get her an invite. But i'm still not sure i want to go myself. If i go i will spend the next 3 weeks stressing with no doubt more nightmares and on the day being the most horrendous person to live with, not want to be near anyone & then fall apart the next day because i will be trying my hardest to keep it together in front of mum & D.

If i don't go, however, i'm worried that things will be said & confidentiality will be broken without my permission. But if i make the decision that i am not going, now, then i won't have to stress for the next 3 weeks. If i don't go, i will find out my rights regarding confidentiality and then if mum & D come back knowing anything they shouldn't, i'll sue their arses off!

But even in the initial meeting back in january things were said that i didn't give them permission to divulge. I'd told Dr L during an appointment with her that Mum, D, Nan & Grandpa were the 4 reasons i was still alive & if they weren't around i really had no other reason. The depression has worn me down & if i hit a low patch & i was on my own then i don't think i'd see a rason to fight. I'm living my life for mum - which has often been said to me. Anyway Dr L came out with this before i could stop her back in january, and i can recall mentioning that i didn't want mum knowing when i was in my appointment with Dr L. So whether i'm there or not i think things will be said that i don't want said.

I think i need to find out my rights somehow, somewhere.




On the stressful/down side & in other news, M is refering me back to London to the ED unit. She she to refer me back to the unit generally so that i can see the dietician there. She thinks the guy there would be really good & might be able to help. My 2000 a day experiment has gained me nothing but 1.2kg in a week. Hippo-ness here i come! I want to just go back to restricting right this instant. But i can't just yet, i have to stick to 1800 to 2000 until i see the dietician, so i can show/prove that something is really wrong. I shouldn't gain on 2000 a day as it is, let alone with the amount of exercising & walking i do. M is baffled, hence the referal to the specialist again. I'm praying he will have an answer or suggestion but i'm dreading having to go to a place where there will be skinny women that will make me feel even more of a fat fraud.

Its hard enough leaving the house & finding clothes to wear that don't cling to me right now. I stood in the health food shop and cried today trying to decide on a snack to help me reach my 1800 target. It took me 10-15 mins in that shop to buy a simple Eat Natural bar. Its OK going to the gym because there are other people trying to fight the flab and it shows i'm trying my hardest to do something about it. No-one outsie the ED world really understands though. Afterall my BMI is 23.9 & still within the healthy range, so what am i so upset about? Only M truely knows what this is doing to me mentally. With the other issues too, i cried for about 75% of our hour & a half appointment today.

I am starting to think that unless i give in to the weight gain, i will have to live the rest of my life hungry.

Appetite control

I don't understand why i can't control my hunger? Or rather why nothing seems to satisfy it today. Especially when i've eaten far more than i normally would in a whole day, and its only 5pm!

I don't think i'm thirsty, and i'm not even that tired, compared to how tired i have been. Sure the dreams aren't brilliant, i mean hospitals, eating disorder inpatient meals, being sectioned and nightmares containing walking on horses which turned out to be dead aren't exactly happy but last night didn't seem too bad. However i did get myself all stressed out about jobs & interviews and imagining how i would handle it, what i would wear, what would happen step by step etc......

Maybe its just the stress of the job applications and the one in particular that i hand delivered today - that gives a bit of a clue that its not too far from home. I saw the advert last week & have asked so many people & debated it over and over until i've sobbed and cried. Some people have said its not a good idea, other have told me just to go for it (including the bloke from the MH employment charity) but mum has still kind of said she doesn't think its a good idea & i think i'm probably still looking for her approval. Another friend online is worried i will be more hurt by rejection from this than any normal job application, and maybe i will.

I don't know. I can't work on whats going on in my head - and maybe thats why i'm using food to cope with it. I can't decide if the application was right.....

BIT LATE NOW!!!

...so it seems i can't decide if i'm really hungry or not. Have i just answered my own question?


Everything just feel so unsure. I don't feel sure about what's really going on in my head, or my life really. Perhaps physically i'm not that tired, but mentally i'm exhausted.


Oh & due to injury and lack of gym & running for 10 days i'm also bloody miserable a lot of the time!! And stressing that i'll never complete the marathon next April........yes, NEXT APRIL - months away!

Did i mention there's a lot going round in my head and i'm a little tired?

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.

Grounding

my thoughts are slipping away from me and the black clouds are creeping in. I cried so much yesterday that i barely shed a tear when i saw J 45 minutes ago.

Yesterday is a blur of tears, clouded over by mold dissociation where i struggled to focus to drive to the gym at the end of the day, with the only control over my mind being brought about by harm. When that amount of damage doesn't hurt, i know it's time to be concerned.

Today is clear and i feel awake but totally numb, the tears shed this afternoon are nothing in comparison to yesterday.

I'm not sure which is preferable - the severe distress of yesterday or the numbness of today.

The words i spoke to J felt cold and rational, in total contradiction to the content of those sentences about losing control & nose diving in mood. Even talking to her couldn't bring me back to normality or find me some comfort. Another sign i need to watch out.




I think i kept it inside for too long. Holding things together & keeping them to yourself doesn't protect people in the long run.

Dear Brain....

Tonight i would like a night without Crazee Catchers or Plane Crashes.

Nor do i want any dreams regarding current stressful issues for example:

1. Money/financial issues
2. car insurance/MOT
3. forthcoming holidays to far away lands
4. exams for college courses
5. Fatness
6. exercise related injury
7. jobs/careers (or lack of).....

You know what. A night with without any brain activity would be lovely.

5 more reasons

It became clear that an appointment with K, after the one with Terry Pratchett, wasn't going to stop me from the battle with me against my subconscious.

Terry Pratchett..... i don't really remember. I was freezing cold, shivering by the end. Having waited 30 minutes before someone decided they would check to see if he was actually free. Stupid CMHT. Started off talking about my emotional attachment to mum. Now other that living under the same roof, physically i don't rely on her too much, emotionally neither - other than the fact i feel more comfortable & safer living here, knowing she is coming home at about 6pm each day. I actually think he came to the conclusion that mum needs more help on that issue than me. But then if i do things that worry/scare her how can she be expected not to worry! At one point he told me i was answering the question fairly openly but with respect to what happened not how i felt, and asked me if i realised i was doing that. He asked me what happened - I told him - had he said "how did you feel specifically....?" well that's obviously a different question!

We then drifted onto self harm, when/how it started etc etc. i told him the "first cut" story & things seemed to end shortly after that. I think i may have glazed over and slipped into a parallel universe, because when i looked at the clock it was 2.40pm (having finally started at 1.45pm, instead of 1.10pm) I slightly too scared to ask what happened, just in case i said something i shouldn't have or didn't mean to - if i don't mention it again maybe he won't bring it up.

Although i think there will be a different topic of conversation in 2 weeks time, as K is planning to call him & let him know exactly how these sessions are affecting me after. I did tell him i was distressed although i neglected to mention that i had to be sewn up by a GP last week after. This is the bit of information that K feels he should know.

K thinks i should give my subconscious a name like "Little Susie", "Baby Susie" or "Less mature Susie" - personally i prefer the "the demon". She said i should be......i can't remember the word she used - but basically she said something along the lines of that fact that i should be pleased that someone is finally taking me seriously. That remark made me wonder - what have her thoughts been all along? Has she long thought that the severe self harm, when i haven't really been in control, was something more than self harm? Has she been left feeling like she was totally helpless in what she could do for me because she isn't a psych or higher up the ranks? (despite being probably the most powerful at the surgery - trust me, her word is God down at that place!) She thinks my subconscious is out to get me, whichever way i look at it. Either i battle it out and keep going for as long as i can before i end up losing total control and not knowing what I'm doing - or i end up harming in an attempt to do something to cause damage before i get to a state where i don't recall what I'm doing.

I was giving K examples of incidents, most recently being November last year. I don't recall taking most of the tablet the packets and blood tests said i took. Before then with the burn on my stomach, K said it looked like a result of repeated applications of the chemical (re-reading my diary it was a week before i sought medical help from J & K), however from my memory, i can recall about 2 occasions and maybe a couple of vague ones - but that could be how it might have happened in my mind when trying to think about it.

I did, eventually, show her todays injury & was surprised when she agreed to let me see to it myself - after going and getting me some sterile sutures. Although this was perhaps one that i should have got help with - i had an injury like this previously which ended up with me being carted of in an ambulance. Fingers crossed I've sorted it though. Just have to be careful at the gym tomorrow, again.

As usual she spent more than the 12 minute appointment slot with me, but that's not too bad being last on her list - even if it does mean the receptionists have locked me in yet again!

I seem to be holding together which is good because the doctors (sister practice in the next village) closes in 10 minutes. Now i'm just shattered, yet despite that i can't shift that murky cloud with is hanging above my head, waiting to open up and let the tears flow. Although right now i almost feel cried out & too tired for anymore. I think my head has gone on lock down again, emotions and feelings are off limit, finger & brain connection is starting to fade too.

K said she wasn't surprised of my reactions to this. I still feel after so many years of talking, psychs, therapy, CPNs etc etc that i should be able to deal with it and get a grip, yet instead i'm losing my grip again. Maybe i should get some books out of the library on the subconscious as K suggested. Anyone any recommendations?