My sister has gotten into University to do nursing which is great. Its not that I am not proud of her but it makes it difficult for me. Its so difficult to watch someone go for something you have had to stop. Your dream that you've had to stop chasing due to ill health. I am so disappointed. Disappointed I had to put it all on hold. Now instead of being on the front line...I am on the side line. As soon as I found out she had gotten in a huge smile came across my face. But just as quickly as it had appeared it disappeared. For the rest of that day I slept in total darkness. I wouldn't come out of my room. My mum tried to cox me out but I wouldn't move. She didn't know what the reason was but she knew I was down. Down enough that it effected her and made her upset. And the best result was to allow me to sleep the rest of the day off because it would probably make me feel better once I had woken up.
The following day I got up and decided that it was a new day and I was going to try and make it count. My medication was due to be picked up. Usually, even though the doctors is just a short walk away I would get a taxi there due to my depression and anxiety levels being through the roof. But that day I had woken up feeling slightly better than usual so i decided to be brave. Brave enough to walk to the doctors and back. This is a huge deal for me even though it may be a simple task for most people. But not for me. Not for someone who hasn't left the house properly or even on their own in nearly 6 months.
It was so scary just to think about leaving the house. So i didn't. I didn't think about it. I just showered and took my time getting ready. Enjoying putting my makeup on which made me feel much better. If i didn't think about what I was going to do it gave me less time to be able to talk myself out of it. I am really good at that... Talking myself out of things. So good I think I am going to state that as a skill in future interviews.
What I was so grateful for that day was my sister. She was so encouraging. She kept telling me I could do it. And I could ring her if I had any problems. So without thinking about it too much i grabbed my phone, plugged in my earphones, blasted my music (Disney songs... because they always made me feel good) and walked. It was when I got there that the problems started. I had to wait 5 minutes before my medication would be ready. Sitting in a room full of people. I just became very self conscious. Self conscious of everything. My breathing, how I looked and how I held myself. Once my medication was ready I near enough ran out of the pharmacy nearly taking out two small children on my way. I sat on a bench outside away from everyone and just breathed deeply. Focusing on a steady rhythm until it was natural again. Then I ran my sister until I felt like I could move again without having an anxiety surge.
On my way back home I realised how unfit I was. How out of breath I became from just walking. I hadn't realised that before all this started I used to be active. I used to walk everyday. Now this just added to my worries. But I know that now mental health isn't just something that needs to take a front seat but it is my physical health too. Once I returned home I did feel better that I had been out and about. But I said I wouldn't be doing that again anytime soon. Especially not on my own as I felt slightly traumatised by the experience.
Another thing I started doing is talking to an old friend. Someone I used to work with. We don't really speak but that night me asking him for advice has turned into me kind of helping him out. Which I just want to make clear is a very good thing as it helps me to focus on something else for a change. He is struggling. The way he is pouring out what has been bothering him just shows that he is at the end. The end of bottling things up. He can't cope anymore. I can just tell. I can tell because I've been there so I know the signs. I really hope that in some way I can help him. Because at times that are dark you need someone to help you see the light. Help him to regain a healthy mind. He openly told me about his coping strategy. His self medication through drugs and alcohol. But... that's just suppressing it. If you push water to the bottom of the bottle while the water is still running eventually that bottle is still going to overflow. I admire his bravery. To admit to this is difficult but the first step to getting better is acknowledgement. He is a good person. But he wears a mask just like many other people around the world. A mask of joy and happiness which hides his face from the world. Hides his current self. A self of sadness and grief. One that longs to cry out for help but does not know where to begin.
Over the past week things have escalated with me. Escalated to the point where I did not want to be here anymore. I didn't want to be alive. I had it planned out. I had continued with my therapy. But... the day of my last therapy session was breaking point for me. Although I had hit breaking point before. This time... This time had been far more intense. I attended therapy because a part of me wanted to try to reach out just one more time. To give it one more chance before waving my flag and jumping from a bridge. A bridge which I had in mind the whole car journey to therapy. The bridge I was going to visit and make it my final visit on this earth if something didn't change soon. And I mean very soon. I just had a complete break down as soon as I was behind closed door with my therapist. But just before I went into that room. I was sat in a waiting room. A waiting room full of newborns. Babies... their lives just beginning. That was when I started to tear up looking at them. Thinking about my unborn niece. Thinking about how much better off she would be not having me in her life. Not having someone as fucked in the head as me. An emotional wreck of an auntie that she did not need or need to know. I just kept thinking a short walk away from here and it will all be over. All the pain gone forever. Just a quick smash of pain then it would be gone forever. No longer suffering and dragging those around me down too. I can't keep going on like this. I can't survive when my mind keeps going to dark places it is just too difficult. It is horrible, then comes the fear of something terrible happening. My therapist listened to all of this as I spilled every last bean that I had been holding onto. I cried and cried about how I didn't know what to do. That I didn't know what help was out there. If there was any help at all. I cried about if I didn't get immediate help I was going to end it all because it was just too unbearable to try and handle anymore.
She rang the mental health assessment team straight away and we both explained to them what was been going on and gave them a brief history. They noticed immediately that i was in a crisis. They knew how desperate I was. And that i needed immediate help. I got in a taxi and a short while later I walked into the assessment centre to see the mental health team and see what they could do for me. They talked to me for a long time, which mainly consisted on me crying. They told me they thought I had boarder-line personality disorder along with the other things. Which only made me even more anxious. The nurse and doctor who I was sat in a quiet room with tried to make me feel better by saying that all of this. All the things I am feeling and the state of mind I am in are treatable, life is worth living. They explained how I would benefit from some alternative therapies but not the CBT which I had previously been on and found out it hasn't really done the job. The doctor explained about the benefits from more medication. Great something else to add to the ones I already have. If this carries on ill rattle whenever I move. They both left the room saying that they would be back shortly they where just going to get some paper work to make a management plan for my care and a prescription for medication which would stop the impulse of wanting to hurt myself. When they left the room I realised that when anyone wanted to get into the room they had to use a key. I had a moment of panic thinking that I had been locked into the room because I was a risk. My thoughts raced to being hospitalised. Later once they came back into the room I realised this was just so people couldn't wonder into any room they wanted. But the person on the inside could get out whenever they wanted or needed to. They came back with medication and a plan set up for mental health nurses to come out to my home and visit me. To be able to manage and keep an eye on my mood. My mood is still up and down now but the new medication does suppress the urge of wanting to cause harm to myself. But on the other side of it, it makes me incredibly tired. So tired that I will sleep most of the day and it also gives me a dry mouth. And when I say dry mouth I mean tongue sticking to the inside of your mouth kinda dry. So dry to the point where i find it difficult to talk without tripping over my own words or I become that self conscious of it i don't want to talk to people or when I do. I have to apologise for the way I am talking so people don't think I'm on drugs. Well....... i am on drugs.. just the legal and prescribed kind.
It was so scary just to think about leaving the house. So i didn't. I didn't think about it. I just showered and took my time getting ready. Enjoying putting my makeup on which made me feel much better. If i didn't think about what I was going to do it gave me less time to be able to talk myself out of it. I am really good at that... Talking myself out of things. So good I think I am going to state that as a skill in future interviews.
What I was so grateful for that day was my sister. She was so encouraging. She kept telling me I could do it. And I could ring her if I had any problems. So without thinking about it too much i grabbed my phone, plugged in my earphones, blasted my music (Disney songs... because they always made me feel good) and walked. It was when I got there that the problems started. I had to wait 5 minutes before my medication would be ready. Sitting in a room full of people. I just became very self conscious. Self conscious of everything. My breathing, how I looked and how I held myself. Once my medication was ready I near enough ran out of the pharmacy nearly taking out two small children on my way. I sat on a bench outside away from everyone and just breathed deeply. Focusing on a steady rhythm until it was natural again. Then I ran my sister until I felt like I could move again without having an anxiety surge.
On my way back home I realised how unfit I was. How out of breath I became from just walking. I hadn't realised that before all this started I used to be active. I used to walk everyday. Now this just added to my worries. But I know that now mental health isn't just something that needs to take a front seat but it is my physical health too. Once I returned home I did feel better that I had been out and about. But I said I wouldn't be doing that again anytime soon. Especially not on my own as I felt slightly traumatised by the experience.
Another thing I started doing is talking to an old friend. Someone I used to work with. We don't really speak but that night me asking him for advice has turned into me kind of helping him out. Which I just want to make clear is a very good thing as it helps me to focus on something else for a change. He is struggling. The way he is pouring out what has been bothering him just shows that he is at the end. The end of bottling things up. He can't cope anymore. I can just tell. I can tell because I've been there so I know the signs. I really hope that in some way I can help him. Because at times that are dark you need someone to help you see the light. Help him to regain a healthy mind. He openly told me about his coping strategy. His self medication through drugs and alcohol. But... that's just suppressing it. If you push water to the bottom of the bottle while the water is still running eventually that bottle is still going to overflow. I admire his bravery. To admit to this is difficult but the first step to getting better is acknowledgement. He is a good person. But he wears a mask just like many other people around the world. A mask of joy and happiness which hides his face from the world. Hides his current self. A self of sadness and grief. One that longs to cry out for help but does not know where to begin.
Over the past week things have escalated with me. Escalated to the point where I did not want to be here anymore. I didn't want to be alive. I had it planned out. I had continued with my therapy. But... the day of my last therapy session was breaking point for me. Although I had hit breaking point before. This time... This time had been far more intense. I attended therapy because a part of me wanted to try to reach out just one more time. To give it one more chance before waving my flag and jumping from a bridge. A bridge which I had in mind the whole car journey to therapy. The bridge I was going to visit and make it my final visit on this earth if something didn't change soon. And I mean very soon. I just had a complete break down as soon as I was behind closed door with my therapist. But just before I went into that room. I was sat in a waiting room. A waiting room full of newborns. Babies... their lives just beginning. That was when I started to tear up looking at them. Thinking about my unborn niece. Thinking about how much better off she would be not having me in her life. Not having someone as fucked in the head as me. An emotional wreck of an auntie that she did not need or need to know. I just kept thinking a short walk away from here and it will all be over. All the pain gone forever. Just a quick smash of pain then it would be gone forever. No longer suffering and dragging those around me down too. I can't keep going on like this. I can't survive when my mind keeps going to dark places it is just too difficult. It is horrible, then comes the fear of something terrible happening. My therapist listened to all of this as I spilled every last bean that I had been holding onto. I cried and cried about how I didn't know what to do. That I didn't know what help was out there. If there was any help at all. I cried about if I didn't get immediate help I was going to end it all because it was just too unbearable to try and handle anymore.
She rang the mental health assessment team straight away and we both explained to them what was been going on and gave them a brief history. They noticed immediately that i was in a crisis. They knew how desperate I was. And that i needed immediate help. I got in a taxi and a short while later I walked into the assessment centre to see the mental health team and see what they could do for me. They talked to me for a long time, which mainly consisted on me crying. They told me they thought I had boarder-line personality disorder along with the other things. Which only made me even more anxious. The nurse and doctor who I was sat in a quiet room with tried to make me feel better by saying that all of this. All the things I am feeling and the state of mind I am in are treatable, life is worth living. They explained how I would benefit from some alternative therapies but not the CBT which I had previously been on and found out it hasn't really done the job. The doctor explained about the benefits from more medication. Great something else to add to the ones I already have. If this carries on ill rattle whenever I move. They both left the room saying that they would be back shortly they where just going to get some paper work to make a management plan for my care and a prescription for medication which would stop the impulse of wanting to hurt myself. When they left the room I realised that when anyone wanted to get into the room they had to use a key. I had a moment of panic thinking that I had been locked into the room because I was a risk. My thoughts raced to being hospitalised. Later once they came back into the room I realised this was just so people couldn't wonder into any room they wanted. But the person on the inside could get out whenever they wanted or needed to. They came back with medication and a plan set up for mental health nurses to come out to my home and visit me. To be able to manage and keep an eye on my mood. My mood is still up and down now but the new medication does suppress the urge of wanting to cause harm to myself. But on the other side of it, it makes me incredibly tired. So tired that I will sleep most of the day and it also gives me a dry mouth. And when I say dry mouth I mean tongue sticking to the inside of your mouth kinda dry. So dry to the point where i find it difficult to talk without tripping over my own words or I become that self conscious of it i don't want to talk to people or when I do. I have to apologise for the way I am talking so people don't think I'm on drugs. Well....... i am on drugs.. just the legal and prescribed kind.
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