Its just a scratch.....

I told M today about the self harm. I felt like it was a pointless exercise, telling her. Not quite as much as if i'd told K.

It just seems is it doesn't require stitches or doesn't threaten my life in any way, then its insignificant and doesn't matter. How far do i have to go now before people care about it? Its not like i'm doing it for attention or telling or showing anyone, but when i do admit to it, if its not severe then it may as well not have happened.

I went through a list of events today with M where my life should have come to an end. She herself said she didn't know how i was still here on this planet. The list soon rose into double figures.

Someone, somewhere doesn't want me to die.

Afternoon naps are a must

Well, a week after lowing the dose of the antidepressants i'm still shattered and need my afternoon naps. However if i don't get my nap....well here's an example of what happens if i get over tired because of a lack of sleep - despite sleeping 8-9 hours a night. Yesterday, at about 4pm i could feel the headache taking over and knew if i lay down i'd fall asleep, especially after not having a nap friday either. But as it was the weekend and mum and david are around i thought i'd try and be sociable and stay awake, however by 8pm i was shattered and straight after dinner, which was a mish mash of picky bits because i was too tired to be bothered to make a proper meal (of course mum then commented, rather gently actually, that i wasn't really eating properly again), i made myself a hot choc which is what i tend to do if i feel i want comfort or am about to go to bed.

Ok, i started this posted over 2 hours ago, in which time we've prepared & had dinner (BBQ & BBQed banana for pudding) so as i'm now pretty fed up i'm finally going to cut that long story very short!

After dinner whilst putting the dishes away i smashed 2 plates and cracked a 3rd (out of a set of 5!) and promptly burst into floods of tears, just as mum and D got back from a walk, then i yelled at mum when she tried to help me clear up. Something along the lines of "I made the bloody mess! I screwed up! So let me clear up the sodding mess!"

Mum did try the "get things into perspective" talk, which is especially true given one of our family across the pond lost a husband (also a father to 2) in a car crash 2 days ago but depression just doesn't want to let you do that, so i took myself off to bed, even though i was still hungry realised i hadn't had a great deal to eat for dinner -at 8.30pm.....

At 10pm i woke up (neighbours were having a birthday party) went downstairs had a banana & raided the chocolate tin.

I then slept for 11 and a half hours. Sadly even that wasn't good news - I dreamt i was pregnant, one of the longest dreams ever it seemed. What was even more depressing and upset was i woke and i realised i had my arm cradling my stomach. Depressing for 2 reasons i guess.

1. mainly the fact that i still hate how big my stomach has become. i have never been this big, in fact have never had a stomach, or at least not since age 8/9 when it was more puppy fat than anything else. It has always been flat & every morning when i get out the shower i cry and often sob because i wish it would go away. My stomach has also gained a fair few more scars too since it has grown, recently it seems about 3-6 (at one time) a week, but no-one knows about that at all, this is the first time i've said anything about it, and even then its under an anonomous identity.
2. It brings back the reality of no partner/boyfriend, and therefore no chance of starting my own family. Not that my body seems physically able again yet still. Although i have been getting that menstrual feeling again and this is the second month, and the similar time as last month i think. I never have been one to keep track of that sort of thing. I've always had other thing and seemingly more important things, mainly keeping myself alive and trying not to get sectioned!

Mum and D are going away later this month, so i'm spending the first part with my grandparents - my theory being if i leave before they do then i won't get so upset.

and now i've got to stop because mum's complaining my typing is too loud! For once she's not fallen asleep on the sofa!

I'd rather be.... (not a happy post)

...thin than this.

I'd rather be skinny & emotionally numb than healthy weight & in self destruct mode. I thought I'd left all that behind, but it seems not. I can't get through a day with thinking about harm, and wanting to harm. For mum, i fight it, however on occasions the desire & the need caused by this passionate self hatred that lives inside of me is too strong to fight.

There's a big part of me that doesn't want to fight it. That wants to attack me for being so stupid and getting so big. I have to wear baggy tops (now size 12!) to hide my protruding stomach. I can't stand the way my skin touches when i lean or bend over. I feel repulsed at the way my thighs brush against one another when i stand. The skin around my neck that folds as i lower my chin nauseates me.

I WANT TO GO BACK!!!

i want to scream, cry and shout - "It's not fair!"

I see images in my head of this that could happen, that might happen. For example on Monday, i won't eat at all until dinner, I'll cycle to and from work, I'll call up the gym I've been thinking of joining.....except i know I'm too pathetically weak mentally to stop my self from eating, despite the fact I've tried to cut down on the calories, because i just seem to be getting bigger & bigger, despite reaching a healthy weight over a month ago.

I think about the scenario if my self harm involves more serious injuries (as i wish it might) again & how i will deal with that. Who i might tell, who i might ask for help if i need it, what J would say if i panicked & needed her help to clear up my mess.

My thoughts are even going as far as the self harm that left me critically ill & needing a blood transfusion. I can't seriously want to risk my life again can i?

But you see if i was skinny & malnourished i wouldn't have these thoughts distressing me. I wouldn't hate my self for being fat so much that i practically want to give myself a tummy tuck. The worrying thing is that the last time i did self harm, it didn't hurt. I don't recall feeling any pain until i was at work later on. Now that is unsettling because it then makes me wonder how much further, not much more damage i could cause.

I don't want to end up in hospital, because it would mean going back to the ward where the anorexia started. But wait............ i want to be skinny again, so maybe it is what i want. Its so easy to not eat a thing all day when there's no food around you & no-one bothers to nag you at meal times once they get the message you are not eating their crappy/fatty food. So maybe that's the answer - get section, stop eating, get thin. Through in a few sit ups and squats to fill the day & pass the time et voila! The perfect solution to reversing the clock (and the scales!).

I don't want to hurt mum or nan etc etc. but if i carry on this way, feeling & the short term, instant & impulsive destruction surely it would end up hurting them more than is i was just a little skinny?

There's a picture of me on the lounge wall taken when i was 2 stone lighter than this (so still a stone above my lowest weight) and i want to be that girl again. i want to be her. everyday i see her, and she sees me and the chubby mess i've turned into. She haunts & taunts me, reminding me of the girl who, yes, was depressed, but wasn't suicidal or thinking of a razor blade every 5 minutes.

I'd rather be depressed & numb than depressed & suicidal.

Ups and Downs, Day by Day

K wanted me to try and keep a track of the ups and downs of my mood not just over a period of a month or week but how things pan out over the course of a day. I said i'd think up a way to show the zig zags in my mood, but so far i've not come up with a way. Maybe thats because a) i haven't really tried and b) my brain just can't work out clever things at the moment, that amount of focus and concentration just isn't going to happen in my head.

Today started with tears over body image/weight/fatness/size etc etc. Then settled into blankness and tiring/back breaking although slightly distracting tasks at work. Then a bit of pottering around trying to avoid food, then a bit of sitting with tie passing quickly which slowly drinking a very thick and very sweet, digesting aiding smoothie. Then a hair cut which resulted in looking at my own chubby self for too long which resulted in further tears, whilst fighting the urges to go upstairs and dismantle the new pack of razors i gave in to buying he other day. There was crying, sobbing and what finally made me realise i should sleep, a punching fit on my stomach & thighs which seemed completely out of my control and came from a place within that i didn't realise was even there. It was completely impulsive & like a burst, but it was almost like it wasn't me. It was that part of me that is impulsive and i feel i have no control over. It wasn't calulated or planned like the blood letting, or the majority of the cutting or other self harm, but more of a surprise to myself like the car crash.

So after crying until i had no more to give, i fell asleep. I think that was about half past 3 and when i woke it was 5 to 5. So once again i clearly needed it and although i felt no happier, i at least felt calmer.

This evening has been, one of trying to act ok. I can't let mum see how dangerous i feel, or rather how i felt earlier. Now i just feel shattered again.

I know on occassions that increases in medication doses can cause unbalance, & i want to put it down to that, but as always i'm so aware of my habits of denying the fact that its just me as i am and not being caused by anything else. We'll see, because tonight the dose goes up again to 210mg and after todays distress and outburst i'm tempted to consider K's suggestion about combining these meds with a mood stabiliser, however after past medication combination disasters & even lack of time left between 2 different meds causing major distress and suicidal issues, i am very very wary.

But all i want to do now is sleep & also hope that my hip pain doesn't stop me from working tomorrow, however if it does, part of me will be glad as i think it is about time to see someone about it, as its been on & off for almost 6 weeks now. I have been wanting a reason to see J, i feel like i desperately want to let out what is really going on inside & when i'm alone. I need to fall apart on someone & let it all out.

Therapy to cope with Therapy

I've just had one of those appointments that leaves you feeling like you need another session to talk over how the first session made you feel!!

Ok, so an appoinment with K isn't really therapy, but she certainly makes you think about things & question yourself.

Once again she said she was really pleased with me. I can see where she's coming from, but that doesn't change my feelings and thoughts. I still feel like crap, i'm still scared by myself & my thoughts & i still feeling like i want to attack myself, causing serious damage.

Last week i got to the kind of state that has put me in hospital before. The only difference this time is me, and how much i've grown up & matured. I'm not that teenager who doesn't think of the consequences anymore. I don't want to dissapoint people these days, or let them down. I could have easily overdosed, or self harmed more severely than i have been doing (yes, the ED is on the way out and SI is coming back) but the old, grown up Susie now has the maturity to think about what it would do to her mother, D, her Nan, my boss (now thats a new one to add to the list) etc etc. I don't want people to say "oh dear. again? what a shame..... she was doing to well..."

So instead last week i curled up on the sofa & cried until i fell asleep. I slept for almost a couple of hours, so i think i needed it. I've been trying to rest and restore my energy since then, but it just leaves me worrying that i'm over eating and being lazy and hence getting fat. Still having big issues with the fact that there is actually fat on my body now and that more of it has settled on my stomach. Thats despite people telling me i look "fab" - and yes that is quoted from someone from work! The boss was now "an attractive young woman" too. enough of my vain side.

Ok, i've been home an hour now so my brain is settling. Neighbours, on channel 5, might be helping distract me a tad.

K wants me to separate me from the illness. She wants me to be able to put the illness in the corner of the room and talk about it separate from me. She says she knows it will take time but she wants me to try. How can i though? Its all i ever remember really. From when i started secondary school i've seen counsellor, therapist, psychotherapists, psychiatrists, CPNs, GPs and the list goes on. I've been sectioned 3 times, 4 if mum hadn't put her foot down on one occasion. I've been in hopsital more times than i can count on one hand for certain but not quite into double figures. I've been on more types of medication than i can count on 2 hands, and that list is about to grow again, as K wants me to thing about trying a mood stabiliser in combination with the Lofepramine, which in a weeks time i will be up to the higher does of 210mg again. She thinks it might even things out day to day, even if it doesn't change the long term low, hopefully the lofepramine will do this.

There's still a part of me that doesn't want the meds to work. That part of me that doesn't know anything else and is scared of what the future holds.

If i wasn't tired enough before, i'm now mentally tired too, and mum's asked me to do their dinner tonight, but i need to work out what i'm doing for myself first.

Prevention is better than cure (not that there is a cure)

I saw K today, talking to her and admitting things to her made me realise i need to stop kidding myself once again, and admit to myself that my lowering mood may not just be because i'm tired.

She made me rewind and look back at when and why my depression/mental health issues started. Answer: Age 10 ish for not apparent reason. I simply never seemed to settle after moving house, in fact there were a few signs before that. I can recall my mother going to see my teacher when i was 9 to ask her about my mood and behaviour. Basically what she was getting at was that the depression was not caused by a major traumatic event and is more down to genetics and biological factors. As she put it a diabetic needs medication to stabilise blood sugars and someone with depression needs medication to stabilise their mood. So i've agreed to start back on the Lofepramine again. K thinks it did me some good, and she's a very experienced and knowledgeable GP, and i trust her. Immensely.

Sitting talking to her i could talk through my thoughts and secret actions with her and by doing so i realised that all the signs were there; crying at silly little things (like mum persistently asking to put some foot cream on my feet - i hate people touching my feet)and also for no apparent reason and thoughts of self harm becoming a reality. The blunt razor blade didn't cause more than a few scratches and i don't think i could cause myself the damage i used to anyway, in fact i'm not sure how i ever did. But today after realising i had forgotten to put sun tan lotion on my back and feeling it starting to bun, i purposely did nothing about it. I wanted to it burn, I wanted to cause 3rd degree burns, i wanted it to blister, i wanted it to hurt.

Its not enough though. I want to cause more damage. I want to get these crappy feelings out of me. K asked me if she needed to restrict my prescription, whether i was likely to overdose in other words. I assured her that despite wanting to destroy my body on the outside, i feel no urge to do so internally. I guess this has more to do with how i feel about my physically self right now, and how much i despise the way i look and feel. Yet despite this i'm going to go and get some chocolate because i want comfort. Afterall once this free chocolate is gone, its not like theres going to be anymore and i have two full days at work to burn it off!

And still i continue to eat......

Apologies for the absence but Susie Belle is back - well, just. By last night i could hardly walk, and this morning although my lower back and hips feel slightly better, its now my knees that are causing the most pain.

The weeks holiday wasn't very relaxing. I don't think we've ever done a holiday where we've just laid on the beach and sunbathed, but to be honest i don't think i could. I don't have the patience, i'd get far too bored.

Anyway despite taking oodles of fruit to snack on and rice cakes etc etc, i managed to gain weight! The major downfalls came on the last 2 days, when we visited 2 attractions that offered the chance to buy cakes and sweets, and also we were moored in a town centre which meant very easy access to shops. So on the friday at an old fashioned museum, when my hunger and cravings got the better of me, i bought 2 extra (secret) cakes to the one i had planned for afternoon tea/afternoon snack and then on saturday we visited Cadburys World.....

Oh dear...... free samples galore! A dairy milk caramel bar, a dairy milk bar, a curly wurly, a packet of dairy milk buttons and a 50ml pot full of molten milk chocolate with a snack/sweet of your choice. I thought the jelly babies would make it a bit too sweet, so i chose popcorn.

I didn't eat ALL of the samples, in fact before lunch i only had one of the packets of buttons. and after lunch i only had the 50ml pot thing from the Essence exhibition. But the came the gift shop....when buying a photo frame i also bought a roll/packet of chocolate eclairs and on the 2 and a half hour journey home ate the lot.....

Thing is despite wanting to cry and feeling horrendous and thoughts of self harm and suicide running through my head everyday, i still carry on eating. It is still mainly fruit for snacks, but i'm just not doing enough exercise to combat the food i'm eating. I know i said it flipantly about becoming obese but at this rate it really is heading that way.

Its almost like i just don't care though. It feels harder to fight the hunger than deal with feeling like crap and looking pregnant. Maybe i'm just to tired to care.