Moving on

I will no longer be updating this blog, I have officially moved to wordpress, I really hope you all continue to follow me, I hope my new blog will be a lot more interesting, there seems to be more that you can do with wordpress.

Thank you all for your support and I look forward to keeping on contact with you all :)

http://iamfightingawarminejusthappenstobewithlife.wordpress.com/

I have moved to wordpress :)

So I have moved to wordpress, I have done this for a number of reasons

~blogger keeps going off line all the time
~loads of people have problems with blogger letting them comment on my blog
~Charlotte did it and she is super cool so decided to copy her
~wordpress seems a lot more advanced.

http://iamfightingawarminejusthappenstobewithlife.wordpress.com/

I am officially sane

Well its official, I have been discharged from the CMHT, does that mean I am sane? Am I now normal? can I walk amongst the normal people and fit in? oooh the excitement.

My discharge CPA was a waste of time, we ran through the fact that it is up to me now to put all I have learnt into practice, they have recommended that I apply to a charity that provides support for people with mental health problems in the community, they can help you with social, vocational and work things. So I am going to give that a go, maybe it would help to provide a bit more structure to my days.

I was sad to leave my psychologist, we have been seeing each other for 3 1/2 years, she knows intimate details of my life, things that I had never trusted with anyone and probably never will. She says we can keep in contact by email. She sent me this earlier.

Hi Amy, Thank you so so much for your lovely card and present, they are

so lovely and your words meant so much to me. I really do hope you put
everything you know in to practise and show yourself some of the love
and compassion you have for everyone else. Also, believe in yourself,
like I believe in you....I would so love to hear that you are doing
well. Take care Amy and remember I'm not going anywhere!! With love,
Julie 

So I guess it is up to me now, time to sort myself out, stop blaming everyone else for my mistakes and issues, take responsibilities for my actions.

At the moment my biggest struggle is an obsession I have developed with the idea of stabbing myself in the stomach, it is constantly rushing around my head, every time I see a knife I have to argue with myself and force myself not to pick it up and force it deep into my stomach. I am used to having these weird obsessions, but this one is particularly disturbing as I so want to do it, just to feel it, how screwed am I?

So what is the plan when sorry if things go tits up? Well back to my GP, he can refer me back to the CMHT, I will bypass the waiting list as I am known to be a risk. If it is immediate help I need if I am in a deep crisis then my GP can refer me direct to the Crisis Team. But hey, I am better now, so who gives a fuck.

Depression waits for no man

I am in crisis, I think I have been awake for a total of 3 hours today, mainly due to the extreme consumption of diazepam and the increase in quetiapine. I just needed to not exist today, sleep was the only option.

I am going to have to confess to the doctor that since being allowed my prescription of diazepam back on Monday I have munched my way through the entire 28 pack at 5mg each. What do you think the chances are of me being allowed more?

My thoughts of suicide are constant, even in my sleep I have no break from it, will I commit suicide? No is the answer to that, well at the moment any ways.

For now I will have to settle with shredding my arms, purging and sleeping.

Sorry to all of my beloved friends on twitter for being anti social, as always that is how I deal with things.

Love you all.

Psychiatrist was interesting

I had my appointment with my psychiatrist this afternoon, it was the last appointment with him before my discharge CPA on Friday. We discussed the usual, my mood, my sleep, my self harm, oddly enough he never mentioned my eating, maybe I look to chubby now for that to be worth discussing.

My quetiapine has been increased, not that frilled about that, but hey ho, I found it rather entertaining when he came out and said "we wont fiddle around with any of your other medications seeing as you are leaving us at the end of the week, but when things get bad we can re look at it again". So basically he is saying that he fully expects that I will be back under the mental health services soon.

I challenged my diagnosis, I had been planning to do this for days, so I politely said that I wanted to discuss my diagnosis with him as I didn't feel it fits. He asked why I thought that and I explained that I had researched it a lot and just didn't see how I met most of the criteria. His response was that I shouldn't be concerning myself with things like my diagnosis, that it wasn't really all that important and that I need to be thinking about my future now. What a joke, if I had a diagnosis of MS or parkinsons disease I would be encouraged to challenge it, discuss it, talk about how I fit into it, but no because I want to challenge my mental health diagnosis I am just dismissed. I have decided I am going to bring it up again at my discharge CPA seeing as there will be 3 mental health professionals there plus my sister. It wont hurt to bring it up again and try and get my point across a bit better.

I am very aware that I am over sleeping at the moment, it is a coping mechanism I often revert back to. It just feels like the best way to get through the day, snooze for a few hours, then live life for a few hours, then snooze for a few hours, so on and so on. Having my diazepam back makes this all the easier, I am going to have to break this cycle before it takes over again.

My yearly obsession about my birthday is starting to creep in again. My birthday is in the middle of August, for the last few years it has filled me with dread, this is because every year I become completely obsessed that I need to commit suicide on my birthday. It started about 4 years ago when I was extremely suicidal and the voice driving this in my mind convinced me that doing it on my birthday was the best thing all round. It would meant that then people would only have to think about me once a year, normally when someone dies we grieve for them on the day they died and their birthday, so my mind told me that I should die on my birthday to save people the trouble. Ever since it has been a huge obsession and every year as my birthday approaches it starts to niggle in the back of my mind, as the date of my birthday draws closer it gets stronger and stronger. My psychologist says that I am being 'dramatic' when I talk to her about this, so I have stopped mentioning it now.

Tomorrow I have to go over and scrub my old flat clean, I have to confess I am not really in the mood, but it needs doing. It is horrible every time I go over there as it is not my home anymore, this is my home. I cannot wait to hand back those keys and never have to set foot in that place again!!!

Life in my new flat

Every day my new flat feels more and more like home, when I first walked in I was very overwhelmed by its size and blankness, it really was an empty shell, I was scared as to how I was going to be able to make this my home. But as I sit here now I can honestly say this is my home. Obviously my old furniture and belongings help, but it feels like my home for other reasons, I feel safe here, I feel clean here, I feel I have permission to learn to be happy here. Most of all I feel proud here, at my old flat I was embarrassed, nobody wanted to visit somewhere that  was infested with rats, when they did they would ask for their mugs to be washed in boiling water before they would accept a drink, I would have to apologise for the smell of the decaying rats under my floorboards, I was not allowed to drink tap water.

I now have a flat I can show off, people want to visit and having these visitors has made me realise actually how lonely I really was.

Friday was my last appointment with my psychologist, I have been seeing her for 3 1/2 years, we have had our ups and downs, but I can truly say I love her. I am very very sad and scared to be leaving her, I rely on her, in fact I depend on her. But now I guess I am going to have to learn to cope without her. I have an appointment with my psychiatrist on Monday, I am going to challenge my official diagnosis in that appointment. I am going to ask him to go through all of the criteria and show me evidence that I fit into them. I am also going to ask for my medication to be reviewed. This is my last chance to do these things as on Friday the 8th of July I am being discharged from the CMHT, I have my discharge CPA with my psychiatrist, psychologist and some bloke who is the head of something or another, my GP can't be present as he is busy, my parents are on holiday, but my sister has agreed to come to support me.

I have to confess I am very scared about being discharged, I am scared of having no one to fall back on, I am scared that there will be no one there to just keep nudging me in the right direction. My psychologist said to me on Friday that she is not dropping off the face of the earth and that I can email her and maybe we could go for a coffee, but I am sure she was just being polite in saying that. I am sure she can't wait for me to no longer be her responsibly, she has said on a number of occasions that I have put her in very awkward positions and that she has gone away from appointments scared of whether she is going to get a phone call saying I have killed myself.

Now why am I being discharged I expect you are thinking, well it isn't because I am better, it isn't because I am now safe, it isn't because I am magically cured. My psychologist said that she is discharging someone who isn't well and isn't safe, but I am not wanting to get better, I am 'therapied out'.

Lets talk about my wonderful babies, Bob and Betty are settling in extremely well, I am proud of them, it took them a while to find there feet, but they are all over the place now, exploring every corner, cupboard, draw. Bob has required an emergency trip to the vets after developing blocked anal glands, he is doing better now after having them emptied and being given anti inflammatory and painkillers. He just needs monitoring now as the poor thing developed an abscess on his bottom the last time this happened. Ben the hamster is well Ben the hamster, not really much more I can say about him! We have Boris, a new addition to the collection, he is a syrian hamster, a lot more fun than Ben as you can interact a lot more with him. We also have my family dog Molly staying for a week whilst my parents are on holiday. She is the apple of my eye (other than Bob and Betty of course!) I love having Molly here, but I don't love having to walk her at 8am!

My GP gave me back my prescription of diazepam after it was taken away as I was 'abusing' it. I am actually going to make a YouTube video about that in the next few days. I am pleased to have it back, I am trying really hard to not repeat past mistakes with it.

Right I am off to take the dog out for a wee, then bath, PJ's and bed for me!

I am glad to be back in the land of twitter, blogger and YouTube :)    

Video

http://youtu.be/j3PbTZy-k0w

Yes I have internet

 So I have finally got internet, it is only when you don't have it that you realise exactly how much you rely on it, I am so please to have it back.

My flat in beyond perfect, I cannot begin to explain how lucky I am to have been given so a wonderful place, a huge proper update is on its way, I have to confess I am so knackered to update to the extent I want to tonight, so you guys will have to wait until tomorrow!

A long overdue update

Hi guys, so it has been a while, sorry about that, I still have no internet access (blame sky), I am currently at my parents stealing theirs.

I have moved, I started moving on the 13th, the sign up for the keys was a weird process, I had to sign to say I would not commit the following acts:

~prostitution
~growing illegal substances ie cannabis
~ racially abuse anyone
~physically abuse anyone
~verbally abuse anyone
~acts of anti social behaviour

It goes on, it is very odd having to sign to say you will not commit these acts on the premisses seeing as they are illegal any ways, but hey I guess they just wanted to be sure I am not selling my body whilst running a cannabis farm on the property! I also found it amusing when I had to tick my gender and there were three options, I have never had to choose between three options before and the cheeky and childish side of me desperately wanted to tick the transgender box, but in the end I stuck with female.

Walking into my new flat for the first time seeing it all completed was amazing, probably a touch over whelming, walking from room to room, seeing the magnolia walls, the complete skirting boards,  the newly painted doors. The brand new just fitted kitchen and bathroom, all shiny and untouched. I spent the first hour walking around in circles saying over and over again "I can't believe this is actually mine". I was able to share this moment with my Dad and my youngest brother and that made it even more special.

Then the hard work started, days and days of walking up and down two flights of stairs from my old flat across the busy road on up two flights of stairs to my new flat. This process seemed never ending, the larger items I was helped with, but everything else I mainly did on my own. The piles in my old flat never felt like they were going down and after a few days I started to feel like this would never end. But guess what, it has, my old flat is empty, my new flat is full.

Bob and Betty spent the first day we moved at my parents, partly so they wouldn't get stressed and also so they wouldn't escape in the commotion. When I picked them up at about 8:30 pm and brought them back I was anxious as to how Bob would react, with him normally being the more anxious of the two, but it turned out Betty would be the one who would find it the most stressful. I have never seen her this way before, she was shaking, wouldn't eat or drink for 36 hours and just didn't seem happy, Bob after a few hours was off exploring, Betty refused to come out of her carrier. But now they have both settled in fine, they have picked their favourite spots to sit, they are enjoying suddenly having over double the amount of space to explore and hide. They are like they have always been here. It makes me so happy to no they are happy.

As some of you will no, I had a little bit of an accident on one of the days, I fell down the stairs outside my old flat which are metal fire escape stairs, I was being silly and in my frustration of going backwards and forwards with my stuff I tried to carry to much, it was raining, so it was slippery any ways and I decided to carry my Henry Hoover and 3 bags of clothes down the stairs. Needless to say I slipped and broke a bone in my hand. An evening in A&E later and my hand taped up I was sent home and told I needed to go to the fracture clinic on the Monday, the brake happened on Friday evening. I decided on Monday morning that I wasn't going to go to the fracture clinic, a lot of people got cross with me about this, I had my reasons, the idea of going was too stressful for me, the fracture clinic is where I have spent a lot of my time over the last four years, it is where I get sent for my follow up treatment and monitoring of my hand after all of my tendon repair operations I have had after taking self harm too far. At that clinic I have been humiliated, treated horribly and unfairly judged. I did not want to go back there and see those people, even though I wouldn't have been there after an act of self harm this time, I just couldn't bare the thought of being recognised. My hand is healing well, the bruising and swelling made it look worse than it was, I will live.

My Aunty passed away, she has been battling liver cancer, I new she was dying, but it didn't make it any easier. Also I have these intrusive and obsessive thoughts that as something good is happening for me, that means someone else is going to be punished. Normally these thoughts are focussed on my Dad, but for a brief while I did find myself wondering if I was the cause of my Aunty passing away. I no this is not true and I have been able to tell myself this. But back in the back of my mind I am scared that something is still going to happen to my Dad.

I was meant to have an appointment to see my Jaw surgeon the other day, but without any explanation it has been postponed until the beginning of September. This is annoying as I am in a lot of pain with my jaw at the moment and am finding it hard to keep this pain under control. But September it is and I have no choice in this.

The night before I got the keys to my new flat I decided that my flat going going to be purge free, I thought a new start in a new place warranted such a huge commitment. I am sorry to report I didn't even make it to the end of the first day. Self harm has been equally as poor, I have fallen right back into the same routine and I feel extremely guilty for this, I have been given this huge opportunity and I haven't really tried that much. Maybe once things have settled down then I will be able to put more effort into it, we shall see.

My mood has been fairly good, but yesterday it took a noticeable drop, today I have felt extremely low, suicidal in fact. Maybe it is the excitement wearing off, maybe it is coming to terms with the death of my Aunty, maybe it is just me being me. But If I hear the words "I thought you would be better once you got into your new place" then I am going to scream. Mental illness does not stay in your old place when you move, it follows you to the next place and you can't help but unpack it.

One thing you may find funny, on one of the trips back to my old flat, sat at the bottom of my stairs was the biggest rat I have ever seen (I have seen some pretty big ones), it was just sat by the stairs and as we walked towards it it wouldn't move, my Dad said maybe it had come to say good by. I can safely say that is one thing I am happy to be leaving behind.

I should be back online over the next few days, I miss being online, it is weird how empty by day feels without  twitter, YouTube and blogger. I hope you haven't missed me to much!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So it is really happening

Tonight is the last night in my flat, I get the keys tomorrow to my new place (well better do any ways). I am sat on my sofa looking around over all of the boxes and bin bags full of 'stuff', where does it all come from? I have had some really good times here, but equally I have had some bloody tough times. I will always remember this place, it is engraved in my memory, but it is time to move on, move forward.

I am going to make a video of my journey from this side of the road to the other and put it on YouTube, it is an important part of my quest for recovery and so deserves a spot on my channel.

I cannot wait to take Bob and Betty over and let them free to explore their new home for the first time, I can imagine there will be a tear in my eye watching them explore. They are going to my parents for the day so that they are not to stressed by the move and so there is no chance of the door getting left open and one of them escape. I will have there scratch post and favourite beds set up ready for them, they will be fine though, I just no it.

So wish me luck, I may be offline for a while, I will be a busy bee and also it will take a few days for my internet to be installed, but will try and pop in the odd update on twitter from my phone.

I wish I could......

I have always had this intense fear that when something good happens to me it means something bad is going to happen to someone I love, normally my Dad. When I first got the offer of my new flat, that was the first thing that popped in my head, he was going to be punished for me getting something good.

I sometimes switch this around and will hurt myself, punish myself, so that something good can happen to someone that is struggling. Now I no this isn't logical, but it just makes sense in my mind. I often think about if I wasn't here, if I killed myself, how many people could that save. I have some good friends in real life, but I have met so many amazing people online, some who struggle unbelievably. I have this deep desire to save them all, I would take all of the pain and suffering for them, I hate knowing how much they are hurting.

Found a letter

Whilst sorting through all of my things packing to move I came across a letter, this letter is going to go to my next therapy session to be shown to my mother. She claims she doesn't see how I can have been ill for so long without her noticing. Well this letter was written in the beginning of 2006 and was written after I went to see a plastic surgeon, I convinced myself that I would be able to stop self harming if I had surgery to remove the scars I already had, at the time this seemed logical. I managed to get my GP to refer me to see a plastic surgeon after convincing her self harm was a thing of the past and was able to present an arm with just scars, no fresh wounds (I had started self harming on my feet). I saw a plastic surgeon and had all of my hopes pinned on him, I was almost delusional with my belief that getting rid of my scares would mean I would stop self harming. Any ways after a long wait of 6 months to see the plastic surgeon, I got my day. I remember the excitement leading up to this appointment, I even self harmed on the morning of the appointment. My friend took me, she had warned me that I shouldn't get to excited, but I was pinning everything on this appointment. He took one look at my scars and said they were probably as tidy as they were ever going to be and that there was nothing he could do to make them cosmetically better. He even congratulated me on how tidy I had made them (cheers). He left me devastated.

Any ways, he referred me to a service called the Outlook disfigurement support unit, they were a psychological service that help to teach you to live with scars after accidents etc. So I agreed, I have no idea why, but I guess maybe something inside me was finally accepting that maybe I needed help, as at this point I had still never had any professional mental health support.

So a 2 month wait later and my appointment with the clinical psychologist comes, again my friend takes me, I was bloody honest with this lady, the first time in my life I was truly honest, I didn't hold back. I regretted it though when at the end of my appointment she said she was going to break confidentiality as she was concerned for my health and safety. I begged her to not, but she went on about the duty of care blah blah blah. Confidentiality has always been a major thing for me and there she is, my first time ever opening up to anyone and she tells me she is going to break confidentiality.

So that is where the letter comes in, she wrote to the plastic surgeon and forwarded a copy to my GP, so as my Mother is calling me a liar then I am going to have to give her proof, I shouldn't have to, she should trust what I say, but she doesn't, so the letter is going to come in handy.

It reads as follows

12th January 2006

Mr T C****y
Consultant Plastic Surgeon
Frenchay Hospital

Dear Tom,

Further to your referral I met with Miss R*****t for assessment on the 9th January. As Miss R*****t and I discussed her difficulties, it became apparent that she is still using self-harm as a way of coping with her difficult feelings. She is drinking, sometimes quite extremely and could only remember one alcohol free day in the recent past.

Miss R*****t was reluctant for me to write back to you with any detail about the content of our discussion and I agreed to keep my letter short. However, I have said to her that I am concerned about her ability to manage emotionally and have asked her to consider going to her GP to discuss options for appropriate support. I think it is unlikely that she will do so and I have also given her a phone number for a self-help group for people who self injure.

I have not planned to see Miss R*****t again, as she is obviously not at the point where working specifically on her psychological management of her scars would be appropriate. I hope this is helpful.

Best Wishes

Dr Natty T*****l
Clinical Psychologist

So my Mother who claims that there is no way I could have been ill until 2008 can fuck off.

Don't you just love life

Been a busy and draining few days physically and mentally. Lets start at my second therapy session with my Mother on Friday. It was laughable, I am very much a person that has to laugh sometimes as otherwise I will cry, I did both in the appointment. My mother was lest with the task from the previous session of considering getting individual counselling for herself. Her answer was a definite no, she says she doesn't see why she needs it, there is nothing wrong with her, she dealt with her issues a long time ago and I have no right to ask her to bring them up again.

Next up for discussion once again was the fact that from birth I new how to push my mothers buttons, apparently the others always new when to stop, but I always took it too far and new how to get at her (remember we are talking about from birth). This is no new news, I have been told this more than I can remember, but hey it is always nice to be reminded right?

We then decided to talk about that fact that 'professionals' apparently told my mother from when I was a young age that I would never amount to anything and would never be very bright, so that is why my mother felt the need to tell me that it didn't matter that I wasn't intelligent whilst I was growing up, but that instead I would make a good house wife.

We talked a lot about the fact that I have always had a extremely close relationship with my younger brothers and my Dad, my psychologist pointed out the fact that my Mother seemed very jealous of this, my mother denied this.

The thing that hurt the most was when my decided to say that she doesn't believe that I have been unwell for as long as I have been, her words were 'I just don't see it' 'I would have known'.

At the end of the session I told them that I no longer wanted to continue with therapy with my mother, I was told that I was giving up because it was tough, so we have agreed to carry on, so I can't wait to see where this leads.

I spent the day with my sister yesterday, she wanted to shop for a new dress to wear to her birthday, I am not the most patient shopper in the world, I tend to buy what I need and get out of there, my sister on the other hand loves shopping and will do it for hours. We talked about our Mother a lot, she told me that our Mother has been talking to her about our sessions, what my sister said just confirmed what I already new, my Mother really does believe she is innocent in all of this, someone else is to blame for everything.

Any ways, self harm has been scary, food has been restricted, weight is dropping. My move date has been moved back to the 13th of June now, but hey ho that's life.

I am such an idiot

So as I am writing this I am once again sat in hospital waiting to be stitched up,it is the third time this week I have been sat here, the nurses are getting fed up with me, I am fed up with me.

I have my second therapy appointment with my mother tomorrow, it is going to be the last, I am not going to put myself through a week like this again, I do care what my psychologist or my mother says, it is not working and isn't ever going to. Some relationships cannot be fixed and that is the way it is with this relationship. I am not sitting there for another hour listening to my mother blaming everyone other than herself for HER failings as a mother.

My dad will be angry as he really wants my mother and I to work things out, but do you no what I have realised, I am an adult, if I don't want to like my mother then I don't have to.

I have requested an appointment with my psychiatrist as I want to try different medication. I am not going to just sit quietly and be told what to do any more, I want an input in my final few weeks with the CMHT, I want things in order before I am discharged.

Ben the hamster bit me for the first time today, Bob and Betty are being really cute, I think they think all of the boxes that are around my flat for packing to move with are for them to play in, at least they are happy.

Official countdown

So the official countdown has started to moving, I have been holding back allowing myself to get to excited until the first of June, so now that it is here I can shout it from the roof tops

10 DAYS UNTIL I MOVE

My flat is a bombsite and I hate it, I am a very organised person, things have their place and that is the way I like to keep it, I have always for as long as I can remember made my bed every day, the curtains have to be drawn a certain way etc. It is horrible now that I am packing, mess every where, boxes, bin bags, junk AHHHH. But I am trying to remember how much fun it will be putting everything in its new places in my new flat. The stress is going to be worth it.

Food has been extremely restricted, have to confess it is feeling really good, I no it is wrong, but I think it is my way of coping with the the mess and stress of moving. Self harm, well its bad, I don't really want to go into many more details, mainly because there is no point and also because I am embarrassed as to how bad I have let it again. I am trying very hard to not take it to the extreme that I could so easily do.

Therapy with the mother again on Friday, she has already told me that she may be late as she has a appointment for a mammogram, I am kind of hoping her appointment really over runs and she doesn't make it at all, lets keep our fingers crossed!

Bob and Betty are not liking all of the boxes being around, they seem very stressed about it all, soon though they are going to have a nice new home to explore :)

Video

My latest YouTube video is on a topic close to my heart as it has affected my Dad and several of my friends, I have seen the devastation from both angles. Check it out :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCYXTOhQIh0

I binged yesterday, First time in weeks, I feel gutted and unfortunately have felt the need to punish myself for my failings.

My self harm is getting extremely out of hand, I hate to be graphic, but one of the wounds I made even shocked me. The trouble is I am completely obsessed and by obsessed I mean unbelievably completely and utterly obsessed with wanting to cut deep into my wrist again, we all no what that means for me, when I get obsessed with this thought it normally ends in extensive tendon damage requiring surgical repair, which is not what I want. But I cannot stop obsessing about it. I want to feel that pain, that suffering, I want to be repulsed by what I have done. I scare myself sometimes, if you could see the images I have in my head, the day dreams I go into, if you just new the true extent of what I want to do to myself.

I truly am sick in the head. 

Therapy with the Mother

Today was therapy with my Mother. Well lets just say she showed her true colours. It started with how bad I made her feel after last weeks appointment with the whole family. Apparently I made out like my Dad was perfect and that she was rubbish, she went away feeling like the whole meeting was to have a dig at her. She started telling me all of the ways my Dad has let her down as she wants me to see that my Dad isn't perfect.

Then she moved on to the fact that I should except that she will always love my older brother more than me as he is special. My psychologist asked if she meant because he was her first born and is that what she means. My Mother proceeded to say that it wasn't because he is her first born, it is because he is special, apparently the love she feels for him hurts, that when my Dad used to tell him off it was like a knife through her heart, but it didn't feel the same for the rest of us.  She then went on to say that there are some things about her children that she loves and some things about them that she doesn't like, it just so happens to be that there are a lot more things about me that she doesn't like and I should accept that.

Then we moved on to the wetting myself thing. Apparently that whole thing was caused by my Dad, apparently he wanted to start toilet training me when I wasn't ready, so that was why I had so many problems in that area, so it wasn't in any way my Mothers fault, it was my Dads.

Now we get to the present day, apparently I am unfair to her as when ever I ring the house I ask to speak to my Dad and not her, that makes her feel left out and upsets her.

Oh well, I guess next week will be just as productive.

Feeling good

Yes that is right, I am feeling good. I have been busy the last few days, well busy for me any ways, I am shattered, but feel like I have been achieving something the last few days. I have not self harmed for nearly a week, I have have not been doing too good food wise, have been eating about 800 calories, but have been purging several times a day. I need to break this habit.

I am already getting anxious about the therapy with my Mother on Friday, each day that goes by feels me with dread as I know it is a day closer to being Friday. She was creepily nice to me last night, calling me 'pudding', if you no my Mother you would no that that is just weird. My Dad has said that her mood has been a lot better this week, apparently she has been nicer to everyone. Is this because she has realised how badly she has treated us all of these years and is genuinely trying to make up for it or is this because she is trying to show that she is a good mother so that in my appointment on Friday she can go on about how wonderful she has been all week. Excuse me for being so sceptical but I am expecting it to be the latter of the two, I have lived with her mind games all of my life and just don't trust her.

Now that I have seen my new flat inside I am finding the wait almost unbearable. I can't really remember what it looked like inside any more (my shit memory) only that it has black work tops in the kitchen. Should hopefully be the 10th of June that I move still.

Bob is doing really well with his new behaviour plan, he has stopped trying to wake me up in the mornings, has started using his litter tray really well and has stopped whining all of the time for attention. Betty is as good as gold as always.

I am enjoying being more stable in my mood and am going to try and make the most of it for now. I actually had this weird foreign thought earlier that maybe I do deserve to be happy.

Viewed my new flat :)

I went to see my new flat today, I am speechless, I nearly cried. It is beautiful, I cannot believe it is for me. You go in the main door and up 2 flights of stairs to the top floor, you go in my front door in to a square hall way, coming off the hall way are the 2 bedrooms, lounge and bathroom and a huge storage cupboard, you go through the lounge to get to the kitchen. They are in the process of fitting the new kitchen and bathroom, the kitchen is a modern kitchen with black worktops and modern cupboards with silver handles. I am picturing it now, walking through it in my mind. It doesn't shake like my flat does and best of all it doesn't have rats :)

You don't have to love your mother

When I first started therapy with my psychologist I was a very angry person. I was angry for a lot of reasons, but mainly I was angry at myself, I was angry because I didn't love my mother and I thought that this made me a bad person. I thought that no matter what you should love your mother, than it was something that shouldn't ever be questioned, every one should love their mother, I didn't.

My closest friend lost her mother to breast cancer, they were very close, she was devastated. I felt an intense feelings of guilt that I still had a mother, I just didn't love her. My psychologist spent a lot of time explaining to me that she lost a mother that deserved her love, I should not feel guilty for not loving mine.

The truth is I feel sorry for my mother, she really has problems, more than was explained in my blog post yesterday. I mentioned at the beginning of yesterdays post that she has mental health problems too, well obviously postnatal depression is a mental health problems in its self, but my psychologist is convinced my mother has an undiagnosed personality disorder, I agree.

We grew up under the constant threat that she was going to leave, sometimes she would, she would get up and take the youngest baby with her and go. I remember one night she and my Dad argued and she left taking one of the babies with her, I was scared, not because she had left, but scared because it was thundering and lightening outside and I thought my baby brother was going to get struck by lightening. I didn't mind when she left, infact I liked it, it meant my Dad had to stay at home, it meant that I could relax. But she would always come back.

My Mother very much bullied my Dad, my Dad is a very passive kind of person, he would rarely argue back, he would do as much as possible to keep the peace. My Mother was cruel to my dad, especially in front of us. She would talk about him in front of us to her friends, she would tall them how pathetic he was, useless he was, how much she hated him. She could get where she wanted with him and if she didn't she would threaten to leave.

After the birth of her 5th baby my mother wanted my Dad to get the snip, my Dad didn't want to, they didn't want more children, but my Dad didn't want to have an operation. My Mother would taunt him about it, say how weak he was. We would be in town with my mother and she would bump into a friend, she would tell her friend about her weak pathetic husband who was too scared to get the snip. After a year of this taunting my Dad agreed to get it done. When you want the snip in the UK you have to sign the consent with your wife, you cannot do it without your wife's permission. My mother had bullied my Dad into getting it done, they went together to see the doctor, they both signed the consent forms. On the morning of the operation my Mother told my Dad that if he went ahead and got it done she would divorce him. Feeling very confused my Dad went ahead and got it done, when he got home my Mother had already packed his bags, she had sat us all down and told us that Dad was leaving, we all cried. I remember my Dad saying good bye on the drive way, I remember my Mother sitting in the house, refusing to tell us why our Dad was leaving.

My Dad was allowed back a month later after he had had the vasectomy reversed. It was never mentioned again.

I developed an almost obsession with protecting my Dad. I felt I needed to take the pain for him, protect him from the stress of my Mother, so this became my aim and still happens a lot today. I adore my Dad and my psychologist says I sometimes idolise him too much.

Through out the years my Mother has done other things to manipulate the family and people around her. She has had several cancer scares, she has smoked 20 a day for most of her life. When she started having trouble with her voice and the doctor found a lump on her vocal cords, my Mother sat us all down and told us that she had cancer. Now I no that every one always tends to think the worst in these kind of situations, you find a lump and think the worst, but she told us, her children, that she had cancer, not that it could be cancer or their was a chance she had cancer, she told us she HAD cancer. For two weeks our house was a living hell, my Mother used this to her full advantage. I remember scrubbing the bathroom for her, wanting to please her, my Mother was dying and I hadn't loved her. It had to be my fault, it was my fault and I had to make up for it, I had to make up for killing my Mother. It turned out to be scaring on her vocal cords, probably caused by shouting to much.

A few years later we went through another cancer scare, my Mother started having trouble with her bowels, she had an endoscopy, they found some polyps. This time we were told cancer was a possibility, rather than 'I have cancer'. The results came back that they were benign, my Dad went with her to get the results. My Mother did not tell people the truth, she continued to tell the people at work she had cancer. Cards and gifts would arrive my sick Mother. But the worst was still to come, 4 months after finding out she did not have cancer my sister came to me, she was very upset and said she had something to tell me. She told me how our Mother had been lying to the family all of this time and that she was the only on that new the truth and that after 4 months of being the only one our Mother had been able to trust with the information that she just couldn't cope with it alone. She told me that our Mother did have cancer and that she had been keeping it from us because she didn't want to hurt us. I new this wasn't true, my Dad had been with my Mother when she got the results, she had had no treatment, she just didn't have cancer I new she didn't. I pointed these facts out to my sister and as soon as I did my sister new too that my Mother has been lying. My sister and I spent days deciding what to do, should we confront her, should we tell my Dad, should we just stay quiet. We decided on the last option, we did not want to hurt my Dad, there was no point in confronting my Mother, she would just lie her way out of it. Still to this day my sister and I have just left it. My psychologist wanted to bring it up in the meeting the other day, I said it was off limits, I do not ever want to hurt my Dad with this information. Maybe we will discuss it in the appointments my Mother is going to be coming to over the month, maybe not. I still do not no if I could bare to see her try and explain it.

Back at the end of last summer my Mother turned up at my flat, she told me that she was leaving my Dad, I had heard this so many times before, I just switch off to it. But this time seemed different, she seemed so sure, she told me that she was going to leave when my youngest brother turned 16, which is this summer. I felt happy, happy because this time I thought she was finally going to do it and although I new it would hurt my Dad I new I would be strong enough now to help him, to protect him the best I could. I have been counting down the months, weeks, days.

About an hour ago I found out that on Friday her work colleges bought her a bunch of flowers as she had been so upset the day before after my appointment that she attended, I can only imagine what she told them, probably how upset she is as she has a sick daughter, how it breaks her heart to see me struggle so much.

My Mother shows classic symptoms of having a personality disorder, my biggest fear is that I will become her, maybe that is why I have taken such a long time to accept I have mental health problems. I almost feel a huge sense of pity towards my Mother, she had it tough as a child, she blatantly is ill. But she has hurt me so much, she has hurt my whole family.

My mother and I

So a lot of you will have picked up and the 'strained' relationship between my mother and I , maybe it is time to explain why. Please don't think that I consider myself hard done by, I have a wonderful Dad and siblings, yes I am going to moan about my mother and yes I am lucky to have a mother, I am just explaining the reasons why the relationship between the two of us was so strained and the affect it had and continues to have on me.

My mother suffers from mental health problems herself, she was the victim of sexual abuse as a child, she was made to look after her younger siblings from a young age whilst her mother worked to provide for the family as a single mother. My Mum didn't really have a childhood, this has had a huge impact on her. She suffered from postnatal depression after 2 out of 5 of her pregnancies, one of them being me. When I was born my parents had just put every penny they had into buying their first house, the house I grew up in, the house my parents and siblings still live in today. My Dad was a train driver and would often work 36 hours straight, when he was home he would be sleeping due to his shift patterns. My elder brother was 2 years old, I came along, my parents had no money, they struggled, my Mother struggled. Depression set in very early on after my birth, my Mother to this day says I never liked her from birth, I hated her, I was out to annoy her, I was a evil baby. She never got any treatment for the postnatal depression, so it went on and on, we NEVER bonded. Just under 3 years later she gave birth to my sister, my Mother adored my sister, she wasn't an evil baby who liked to 'get at' her like I was. My sister became toilet trained before I was able to go a day without wetting myself, my sister was dry through the night before I had ever had my first dry night. I was already showing significant signs of stress, I was painfully anxious as a child, but I was punished for it. The more I tried not to have accidents of wetting myself the more it happened. When I started school at the age of 4 I wasn't ready. I couldn't cope, I strongly believe that some children are just not ready for school at that age, I used to have to have afternoon naps in the quiet corner as I couldn't go through the whole day. At least 2 times a week for the first year of primary school I would be sent home as 'I didn't feel well' really I just wasn't coping. This angered my mother more, by this point she was pregnant with her 4th child, the last thing she wanted was the annoying little thing at home again. I was still wetting myself several times through the day, I was having to be woken up and taken to the toilet several times through out the night and still managing to wet the bed. Of course this was as far as my mother was concerned me trying to get at her. She now will openly say that she hated me at this point. She was trying to bring up the others, the ones she loved, the nice ones,  I was doing these things to 'get at her' still.

When I moved into the second year of school I remember my Mother taking me in to see my new teacher. My mother told her about all of the things I did, being sent home all the time, the wetting myself. I can remember the teacher saying "she wont get away with these things her" "we wont have things like that in this class". But what everybody failed to realise was that I was trying so hard not to do these things, I wanted more than anything to go through the day with dry knickers, to go through the night with a dry bed. I wanted to make my Mother love me. But I couldn't, I was a child struggling to cope. I felt taunted by this teacher, the grin she had on her face when she would stand up in the middle of the class and in front of all of my class mates and tell me I needed to go to the toilet, she would have a grin and so would my class mates.

My Dad continued to work extremely long hours, we would hardly see him, but when we did I would cling to him and not want him to go. It was a family joke and still is to this day that I would follow him around like there was a piece of string attaching us together, I couldn't bare to be apart from him.

By the time my sister had started school I had fallen extremely behind. Throughout school I was a year behind with the level of work I was doing. My older brother and my sister are very intelligent, I am not. When I left primary school at the age of 10 my sister was doing a higher level of work than me as I had moved behind and she had been moved to the year ahead. Already I was failing. I was considered lazy by my mother, I didn't try like the others, I was not a succeeder in life.

When I was about 7 my Mother took me to see a behaviour lady, I am to this day not sure what her job tittle was. I was taken to see her as I was still yet to have any more than the occasional dry day or night. I remember playing in the waiting room with some blocks while my Mother went in and spoke to the lady, then after a while I joined them in the room. I remember the lady telling me that I needed to be a big girl now and that I surely don't want to be wearing nappies like my little brother. It was decided that I was jealous of my younger brother and that was why I was displaying this 'challenging' behaviour. We made a chart, every day I had to draw a sun if I was dry, a cloud if I was a little bit damp and a cloud with rain and lightening if I was wet. I can remember the unbearable sense of failure at the end of every day when I would have to draw the cloud with rain and lightening. I can remember my Mother taunting me and telling me how stupid, awkward and horrible I was. I remember her telling me that she new I was doing it to get at her. I remember when she put me in a traditional terry towling nappy, I remember when she made me sleep on the bare rubber mattress protector as she was fed up with washing sheets, I remember when she dug a hole in the garden and told me that I was no longer allowed to use the toilet as I was disgusting.

One of the strongest memories I have is when I was in the garden playing with my siblings, I believe I was about 9, I had a denim skirt on. I wet myself, my Mother was in the lounge sat to the table chatting to her friend. I needed to get past them to get to the hallway and up the stairs so that I could get changed. I crept in through the kitchen, I tried to go through the lounge with my back against the wall, so they wouldn't see the wet patch on my skirt. I got almost to the hallway door, I almost got away with it, then my Mother noticed me, she asked what I was doing, I tired to say nothing, but she new, I jumped back as she charged towards me, she grabbed my arm and spun me around, they laughed, they kept laughing, they told me how dirty I was, how pathetic I was. I just wanted to hide.

My Mother was still convinced that I was put on this earth to get at her, so any thing I did was for that reason. If I was ill, obviously I had made myself ill to annoy her. If I fell over and grazed my knee it was to ruin whatever it was she was doing. She dismissed me, she wanted me out of the way.

Our next door neighbours were foster parents, they fostered 'naughty' teens, teens that could not live at home any more due to their behaviour. My Mum used this as a threat to me, she would constantly tell me that I would be sent to live next door. I was terrified.

Two days after my 11th birthday my youngest brother was born, baby number 5. I fell in love, my Mother didn't, her second bout of postnatal depression kicked in. My Mother didn't cope, but I did. I was in my element, I became his second mum, his cot was in my bedroom, I changed him, dressed him, fed him, I did everything for him. My mother got over this period of postnatal depression a lot quicker, she got treatment early on and recovered. I was on a roll though, I had found something I was good at. When I started secondary school that September I could not wait to come home from school each day, get my brother in his pram and go back into town and meet my friends, my little brother in tow. On Sundays I used to take my baby brother, my 4 year old brother and my sister across to the other side of town to rent a video from the rentals shop. I loved the responsibly, I was never good at school, I was very behind intellectually, but I was great at being a mummy. But I was still very young, I made mistakes, which were pounced on. My Mother asked me to get some sugar from the shop once on one of my trips to the video shop with my siblings, I was 12. I got home with the sugar, only to find I had picked up a bag with a hole in it, we had been leaking sugar all of the way home. My Mother was angry, how could I have been so stupid, surely I had noticed the bag was leaking? I was punished.

The last time I wet myself during the day was on my first day at secondary school at the age of 11, the bed wetting cut down a lot, although I would have the odd accident up until my late teens. I was still very anxious, painfully shy and very exhausted throughout my early secondary school years. I was still an underachiever at school, but I was still in love with the idea of being my youngest brothers mummy.

My Mother still considered me to be evil, horrible, useless. I was still regularly threatened with being sent around to my neighbours to live as a form of punishment. So on my Mothers birthday when I was 13 my Mother sent me around there as I was annoying her and of course she shouldn't have to put up with me annoying her on her birthday. I finally found out the true extent of how much my Mother hated me. I was raped. Being young, scared, confused, alone, I believed that this was my punishment, I believed that my Mother had arranged this. When it happened again and again, I new my mother wanted it to happen, I deserved it, I was evil and my mother was punishing me. She was punishing me in the most horrible of ways.

From that day on I switched myself off from my Mother, I started punishing myself, the way a dirty, evil, horrible girl deserved to be punished. Self harm became my way of escaping my Mother, if I punished myself then it didn't matter how much my Mother punished me. Also it was the start of years and years of eating disordered behaviour. Obviously now as an adult I no that my Mother never arranged it, she never new what was truly happening around there, but as a child I believed it and never questioned that it could not have been arranged by her.

My Mother still believes I am constantly trying to get at her, every overdose, every operation I have needed due to self harm, every time I have been sectioned. She wants to no why I love my Dad more than her. In my appointment the other day she cried as I have never loved her.

So over the next few weeks my Mother and I are going to be having therapy together. Will it help? I have no idea.

Turn it into a possitive

That is what my Dad said to me today. My Dad very much lives in a little dream world, I love him to pieces, in fact I adore him. BUT he is still very nieve (sp?) in his way of thinking when it comes to mental illness. When I first got really ill he was desperate to take me on holiday, he was so sure that getting away for a week would help me so much, but as we all no, it just isn't that simple, your mind has to come with you and it is your mind that is the problem. So when I told him I had been allocated a new flat he was over the moon, he is so convinced that a fresh start is what I need, it is, it will be great, but it wont fix me. Now we have all excepted that I am being discharged, he is now trying to tell me that it is a blessing in disguise, moving and being discharged around the same time means that I can start afresh, leave this chapter of my life behind. Now this is partly true, I am trying to turn this into a positive and look upon it this way, but it does not fix everything. I wish it could, I could move into my new flat and BAM I am better, no more anorexia, no more depression, no more self harm, no more obsessing about suicide etc. But that would be to easy.

Any ways, I am going to view my new flat for the first time on Monday, the move date is still set for the 10th of June (as long as the builders complete on time). I would move tomorrow if I could, seeing my new flat out of my lounge window every day is like torture, I keep imagining what it is going to look like inside, how it is going to feel. It has proper solid floors, unlike here, it wont shake when lorries and buses go past, I won't hear my neighbours arguing, beating each other up, having the loudest make up sex and of course the joy I hear every night the bloke below snoring. I will be able to drink tap water again, I am not allowed due to the rats (it is a health hazard), I wont have to rinse every cup, mug, plate etc in boiling water before I use it in case the rats have been touching them. I will have a shower, I have a bath here, but no shower, I love having a bath, but it takes a long time rather than jumping in the shower, but the main thing about having to have a bath is I hate the amount of water it wastes, it just seems a shame to waist so much water every day, a shower will use a small percentage of the water I currently use.

I will be leaving a lot behind here, memories that I wish could leave behind here and never think of them again. I could be here all day going through them, so I will share a few.

 I have nearly died here so many times after overdoses, I have self harmed and had arterial spray hit the ceiling, I remember once when my boyfriend at the time was living with me here, I got up in the middle of the night, went into the kitchen and cut deep into my wrist, I didn't even attempt to stop the bleeding, I just walked in a daze back into the bedroom and got back into bed and went back to sleep. Suddenly my boyfriend started shouting and turned the light on, he was shouting "what have you done, what have you done" over and over, he had woken up because the bed was soaking wet, I was pumping blood everywhere, when he turned the light on and made me get up (I kept saying we will sort it in the morning), he grabbed something to tie around my wrist and made me hold my hand in air, it was only then that I realised how much I had been bleeding, it was all over the curtains, my cream coloured canvas wardrobe, the floor and of course the bed, me and him. There is no doubt if he hadn't have woken I would have bleed to death. I have had to phone my sister in the middle of the night and tell her I once again need to go to the hospital as I have cut through tendons.

I have been raped in my flat, that is something I would like to forget. It is hard to live some where where you have been violated like that.

 I have sat on my own drinking litres of vodka night after night. most of the time not remembering dragging myself into to bed (if I managed to make it that far).

 I have brought man after man back to my flat, had sex with them and then kicked them out, most of the time even knowing their names, some would have stayed the night due to the fact I would have passed out, but would not get any conversation out of me in the morning, just would have been asked to leave as I wake up and realise what I have once again done.

There are some good things, this was my first sense of independence away from my parents, my first break away from the damaging relationship with my Mum.

It is Bob and Bettys first home, they have spent time at my parents when I have been in hospital  and we stayed with my sister for a month when I was really poorly and couldn't look after myself, but this is their home.

It was here that I gave up alcohol, I have been sober for 3 years on the 21st of June and I have never looked back. Alcohol nearly killed me and played a huge part in some of my earlier suicide attempts.

It was also here that I decided to never again put myself in the position where I would have to have sex. I have not had sex for 3 years in August. Sex brings me so much trauma, it takes me back to the sexual abuse I suffered as a child, it reminds me of the situations I put myself in time after time as an adult trying to 'get over' my fear of sex and of course it reminds me of being raped as an adult. Sex is not something I want as part of my life and I will always remember the time I was sat here in this flat and empowered myself with that decision.

So good and bad memories, but new memories can be made in my new flat and you never no, maybe my Dad could be right, maybe I will be move and never look back :)

Bob and Betty :)

Bob and Betty update

http://thebobandbettydiaries.blogspot.com/2011/05/bobs-new-plan.html

Dreaded meeting

This morning was the dreaded meeting between my CMHT and family. I have been feeling sick and so anxious about it, but it had to happen.

To start with my psychiatrist couldn't make it in the end, but had passed on to my psychologist all that he needed to say, great start. The meeting quickly became about my Mum, she cried a lot about the fact that I don't love her like I love my Dad and that she has always been pushed out. She suggested that she and I should go away for a few days so we have to chat and bond. My psychologist jumped quickly in there and said that would be to much for me, instead we have agreed that a few of my last sessions with my psychologist with be with my Mum and I, to work on things.

I am being discharged still, it was going to be on the 10th of June, but now that we want to have some sessions with my Mum and also because that is the day I should be moving, it has been pushed back to probably the end of June. I will be back under the care of my GP, my psychologist said that I am all therapied out, I have been having therapy with her for 3 years, I have been taught the skills, I just need to put them in place.

My official diagnosis is now Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, no longer bipolar, my new psychiatrist believes my mood disturbances are to rapid for bipolar.

So that is that, my Discharge CPA will be at the end of June time. One of my parents said that they were concerned as it was easy for the CMHT to just discharge me and they don't need to live with it every day like my family do, my psychologist said that that wasn't the case. She said it is easy to discharge someone when they are well and are safe, but it was actually a really hard decision to discharge someone who is still living the way I am and are still a massive risk to themselves. Says it all really.

Not doing good at all

I am seriously fucked up, what the hell is wrong with me? I am all over the place, I decided last night I wasn't going to go to ballet today, in fact I decided I wasn't going to get out of bed today as I spent most of the day yesterday in hospital, I went there to get stitches and then they wanted me to stay as they were concerned about my behaviour. I woke up this morning all full of life again, so found myself up dressed and on the bus heading to Bath city 2 hours early for ballet. I wondered around wasting time for ages then walked up to ballet, I stayed at ballet for 5 mins, then burst into tears and walked out, I sat in the changing rooms for about 15 mins, threw up and then got changed and came home and slept all afternoon.

I feel racing and happy one minute, then deeply depressed and suicidal the next. I have just had a bath, I spent over an hour in it, the water was cold when I got out, although I don't really remember what I did or what I was thinking about for that hour, it is just a blank.

I am going to go back to bed now, I don't really no what else to do with myself.

Things to be discussed

I have an appointment with my psychologist, psychiatrist, Mum, Dad and sister on Thursday, shitting myself. Over the years I have been subjected to many similar meetings, I should be used to it, but I am not, I hate them.

My sister is the best in these situations, My Dad goes to pieces and tends to hold my hand and rub it like he is in Aladin and rubbing the genies lamp. My Mum does my nut in, she normally gives the big speech which I can normally quote as follows 

 "We are so proud of Amy, she has had to work harder than the others (meaning my 3 brothers and my sister), things don't come naturally to her like they do to everyone else, everything she has ever done she hasn't found simple, the others can just do things, it comes naturally to them, not to Amy" blah blah blah

This big speech goes on and on, she thinks it makes me feel better, like she is letting me no that it doesn't matter that I am not like everyone else. This speech has been rolled out at any and every opportunity. I dread it. It just confirms the fact that I have so far managed to fuck up everything I have ever tried to do and probably will continue to.

My sister on the other hand is great, she listens carefully, understands what is being said and most of all sticks up for me. She is the one that counts in these meetings.

Things that need to be discussed, lithium (or I am wanting to look at other mood stabilisers) my psychologist didn't realise I hadn't been taking them, whoops, my bad. Just shows the excellent communication between my psychologist and psychiatrist!

My planed discharge, I am definitely not going to be seeing my psychologist after June, due to my lack of wanting to change, lack of co-operation and the fact I am a waist of space. Options are full discharge from CMHT, full discharge with rapid re-entry plan or partial discharge with a CPN. 

Apparently the role of the CMHT has changed, where as you used to stay under them for years and years being monitored, now they are only there to support you whilst you are engaging in therapy, then it is bye bye to you, see you later, off you go. All good fun :)

Any ways, I am full of beans today, haven't been able to sit still. I was chatting away to my little bother on the phone and he said "are you heading for another manic, you are acting a bit odd again", I guess the answer to that appears to be yes. I decided at half 2 this afternoon I would hop on the train and head to Bath city, why not aye. I had no idea what to do whilst there, I wasn't really thinking ahead, had no money (apart from some money I was meant to be holding for my sister), I just needed to be moving, be around busyness. I walked around for a bit, considered doing a bit of shoplifting, but decided against that, ended up spending my sisters money on binge food and then purging in the train station toilets, classy! 

Up down up down

That is what my mood is like at the moment, my arms are a mess, actually a mess is an understatement, they are hideous. Food is going great, well great in my eyes, even though today is Friday and historically is the day I allow myself to binge, I didn't really fancy it, I have eaten a bit more today than all week, probably just shy of 1000 calories today, I have the strong urge to go back to 200 calories tomorrow and stick to that for a while, as it has been almost to easy to stick at about 400 all week. Sometimes I feel I need to feel the challenge and enjoy the discomfort of starving.

I had a appointment with my psychologist today, we have arranged for an appointment with my CMHT, my parents and my sister on Thursday. Scary business, also a bit humiliating that I need my younger sister and my parents involved in my care planning even though I am nearly 27 years old. I am hoping that this is going to be a very productive meeting though, it better bloody be with all of the stress it is going to cause me.

Bob has been a night mare and needed a trip to the vets, money I do not have, but at least I know he is ok, they have confirmed his latest problem is behavioural rather than medical. His behaviour team have written a new behaviour plan, I have to be really strict and follow it to the letter and hopefully this will get all of his behaviour under control as he is once again relying on me to take him to the toilet, is causing bold patches and
scabs on his face from scratching along with the usual stuff and it is all for attention. I will write in more detail about this in Bob and Bettys blog.

I  met up with someone I met on a ED support forum today, we walked our dogs in the woods at shear water. It was really lovely to meet her, we have a lot in common, have both been through periods of anorexia and bulimia. We chatted about all sorts and are definitely going to meet up again. Our dogs enjoyed it, Molly now has a boy friend! Both of our dogs have slept all afternoon from exhaustion. Molly isn't in my parents good books at the moment as she ran all the way home when my Mum let her off the lead at the park the other day and nearly got run over. She can be very strong minded at times!

Any ways, I am going to focus all of my energies this weekend on not self harming, my arms badly need to heal, could you all do me a favour and send your positive vibes my way, I am going to need them.

Exhausted

I am exhausted, I have done three things in one day, that is a lot for me. I meet Laura May in Bath for a coffee. My bus was 25 mins late, so that wasn't the best start, I thought it wasn't going to turn up and was starting to panic, then it came around the corner, thank god. It was really nice to meet Laura, we didn't have much time as she had to go to work and I had to head off to ballet, but it was nice to meet someone who has similar problems to me and was able to relate to everything I said.

After meeting Laura I walked up to ballet, it was really good, but my concentration was not there today, I felt all over the place and to be honest could easily of left after 10 mins. It is a shame as I normally love ballet. I hope next week my concentration will be better.

By the time I got back to my town on the bus I was truly cream crackered. I had to have a nap, I felt like I was going to cry just from being so tired. Just as I was nodding off there was a knock at the door, it was the people that run the launderette that I live above wanting to look at the holes in my floor boards and my rat holes as FINALLY my landlord wants to do something about it. Too bloody late, after 6 years of living in this dump, they want to fix it now that I am moving out.

I had pilates this evening, again my concentration just wasn't there, at one point the instructor asked if I was OK in front of everyone, I was so embarrassed as I thought I had been doing a good job at keeping up appearances. I kind of wish I hadn't gone, but I guess my day was not busy at all compared to most peoples standards, but to me it was exhausting.

I have struggled to keep my calories up today, I have had 374 and 84 for those were almost forced as I thought I had better have something else. I will try really hard to get to 500 tomorrow.

A little better

I am feeling a little brighter today, have been to town to meet 2 of my friends for a coffee. I have been trying to do a bit more the last few days and it seems to be helping.

I have been given a move date, the 11th of June, the only thing that would delay that is if the builders that are repairing the roof run behind again. I want to get out of this place, I need to get out of this place, but I have to confess I am getting anxious about it. I have lived here for a long time, the fear of the unknown is daunting.

Food is going really well, no binging, I have been eating an average of 500 calories a day, I am trying really hard not to go lower, as I no my ED voice would not let me go back up again and I do not want to go back to 200 calories a day.

Self harm is rapidly getting out of control again, it is actually scaring me at the moment as I am doing more and more damage again, when I get into this cycle it normally ends in one way, cutting so deep that I cut through tendons. I have no idea why I let it go that far, it seems to be that I get so caught up in it and I just need to take it that bit farther each time, then there is only so far you can take it and then the damage is once again done. I have actually lost count of how many times this has happened, I think I have had 8 tendon repair operations, why can't I learn my lesson?

This is a video I made after the last time I required surgery to repair tendons I cut in my wrist.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=35N4d5dApHo

Why the hell can't I learn my lesson????

Bobs behaviour has taken a turn for the worst, last night he weed on me, I woke up in the middle of the night and had to change the bedding,went back to sleep and then at 5:15am woke up to a poo and me, so had to change the bedding again. He pood and the carpet the other day, has weed in one of the cat beds, basically his behaviour has gone right back to the beginning. But as we all no, I will put up with anything from Bob as he is so special, so is Betty, but Bob has been so ill and I have to remember that is why he has these problems.

New video

My latest YouTube video :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mgjufsu0_KY

Forced myself to go out

I have forced myself to go to pilates this evening, I have been avoiding the world for long enough, depression needs to take a step back and let me get back to the things I enjoy doing. Lets hope I can keep it up this time.

Anti-social me

As a lot of you will have realised I tend to get very anti social when things are bad, this has always been my way of dealing with things, I don't do it to be rude, it just kind of happens and I suddenly realise I have ignored my online friends like people on twitter YouTube etc. I also do it in real life world too. It is something I used to do a lot more, about 3 years ago I actually stopped speaking all together for a few months, during that period of time the only words I uttered were to tell my Mum not to call me by my name as I was dead when she sat on my bed and begged me to talk. Everyone has different ways of coming, some people talk more when they are low, I talk less.

Please bare with me! Thank you to everyone who has been so lovely :)

My aunty is dying

I aunty was diagnosed with liver cancer last week, we have now been told it is terminal, she has a maximum of 6 months if she has chemotherapy to prolong her life, but that will make her really sick and that time will be spent in hospital. Having no treatment will mean less time, but the time will be time that she does have will be more quality.

Nobody deserves to get cancer, but it breaks my heart that it is her. My uncle is distraught, they have been married for over 40 years. It is so unfair.

A lot of you will be aware of Oscar, he is my aunties parrot, I made him a YouTube channel, he is amazing, he hasn't coped well at all with my aunty being in hospital, he stopped eating and kept saying "Pam coming home" over and over again. I know in these circumstances the last thing I should be worrying about is a parrot, but my aunty is Oscars world and he is very intelligent and isn't going to understand where his beloved 'Pam' has gone and I know that is going to hurt my aunty so knowing that.

Cancer is cruel and heartless.

Bit by bit it takes everything away

Bit by bit metal illness has taken everything away, it takes my body, my friends, my family, my joy for life, everything. My body is truly fucked, inside and out, I am not sure what I have left any more. I look at what I have done to my body, I do not feel anything for my body any more, I used to feel great sadness for my body, now nothing.

Mental illness is cruel, so many people think I can just stop, decide to get better and it happens, what they don't realise is there is only so long you can fight, there is only so long you can tackle the limbo between life and death. Then you become too tired, you give up and allow it to swallow you.

I have tried to kill myself so many times over the years, overdoses, cutting my wrists (not in a usual self harm way), lying in the middle of a busy road, walking down dark alley ways in the middle of the night hoping someone would murder me, starving. My biggest fear these days is that I will try again and fail again. That is one of the most horrible feelings, when you pluck up the courage, you do the deed and then you wake up in a hospital bed and someone tells you how lucky you are to be alive. All you can think is how much of a failure you are. I remember time after time being led in hospital, my Dad holding my hand, crying, begging me to never do it again, I remember my boyfriend at the time telling me how selfish I am and asking if I had did it to get at him. The truth is I am really selfish and I don't think about  anyone, only myself, I can't bare to think about my family, I definitely never used to think of my boyfriend at the time. The only thoughts were for myself and the need to escape.

I am rambling now, I am going to hop in the bath, I haven't had a wash or brushed my teeth or hair since Wednesday, the joys of depression. To top it off Bob has just vomited all over the back of the sofa, my day gets better and better.

Feeling lost

I am feeling really lost, I had a appointment with my psychologist today, dues to the Royal Wedding my weekly routine has been messed up and that always sends me into a mass of anxiety. I asked what will happen when I am discharged and said that I am scared of not having any support. She said that I could get in contact with groups in the community, I can't really remember who she said, to be honest I wasn't really listening. She said that she can understand that I am scared, but I have had therapy for a long time and that I have been quite open about my unwillingness to change things, so there is no point in having therapy any more. I get what she says, I have had a lot of therapy and recently I have given up on wanting to change, but that is after years of trying so hard, of giving it everything I could and getting no where. I feel anyone would feel disheartened.

Around Christmas I was honest with her about my plans to starve myself to death, my psychologist sat by and watched as I went to a BMI of under 15, I was offered no extra help, just continued seeing my psychologist once a week, who is not a eating disorder specialist, every week I was told her my plans were still the same, she would say the same things and send me away with the task of thinking about why I was doing this etc. I was given NO other support. Just after Christmas the binge monster set in, I felt devastated, not because I was gaining weight and getting fat, but because every pound I gained was a pound further away from my goal of starving until I died. I even wrote this in a letter to my psychologist, I said to her that that was why I was so distressed, that my goal was getting further away, still I have had no extra support.

I am crying as I am typing this, I feel so so low. What do I want from her? I do not no any more, but I no being discharged is not fair. I should be being offered more help, not having it taken away.

Over the last few years I have done so much damage to my body, yes I no I have done it, nobody made me do it, but nobody tried to stop me either. Nobody has reached out to protect me. I have to confess I am jealous, when I see some of the support other people have had, I wonder what it would have been like if I had of had the same.

I love my psychologist, she is the only person in the world that I have ever truly let in, but I feel like she has just sat back and let me destroy myself. Once when my self harming was massively out of control, I had had operation after operation on my wrists in a matter on months due to cutting the tendons again and again, my family rang my psychologist and begged her to do something, to have me sectioned, she said that if I was determined to hurt myself then I would do it no matter where I was. Can you imagine how distressing that was for my family, I no it was me doing it so it is my fault, but nobody tried to protect me, I just got the same one hour a week with my psychologist. I was so ill, I must have been to be carving into my wrists the way I was, why didn't someone protect me?

All along it has been the same, the only times anything else has been offered was when my CMHT were starting a DBT course, I went for an appointment to see if I could join the course, I was denied because I was to unwell, I couldn't even hold a conversation at the time, I was too anxious, too depressed. So it carried on the hour a week with my psychologist. Maybe I expect to much, like I say I love my psychologist, she has helped me a lot, but I do not no what to do any more.

Bloody hell, I can hardly see the screen as I am crying so much. My original goal is back, this time the binge monster isn't going to ruin it, I guess one good thing about the fact I am being discharged in June is that there will be nobody to interfere, but mind you nobody would have done any ways. 

Mood has taken a plunge again

My mood has taken a plunge again today, I have been very tearful and have felt exhausted physically and mentally. As I am sat here now my eyes are stinging from crying, but I have nothing to cry about. I have self harmed several times today, I am trying hard not to do it again tonight, but I am not really sure what else to do with  myself. I am trying to remember what my psychologist would be telling me to do, I can hear her in my head "distract yourself" "you wont feel better once you have done it" etc etc. Sometimes it is easier to just give in.

I feel quite scared at the moment, my pattern seems to be changing, I think my moods are becoming more rapid in their cycle. I was on top of the world the other day, now I am really low, I am not used to flicking this quickly.

I was so determined the other day that recovery was going to happen with regards to my ED, I told everyone that this was it, I was going to get better. Now that seems like a distant memory, I have no enthusiasm for it any more, in fact I have lost weight. I dunno, I just don't really know what to do with myself.

Update on Bob and Betty

I have finally got around to updating Bob and Bettys blog 

http://thebobandbettydiaries.blogspot.com/2011/04/i-have-rather-neglected-this-blog.html

Maybe I will be able to sleep now!!!

Anxiety got the better of me

Some of my friends invited me for a day out by the sea side today, anxiety got the better of me, also the fact that I am so lame.

The reasons I couldn't go:

~ I can only cope with me around people for an hour, maybe sometimes two hours, but then I need to be alone
~I wouldn't be able to have an afternoon nap
~I would have to talk to people, be smiley, jolly, show interest in things
~Food, they would want lunch, snacks, ice creams
~ I hate being away from Bob and Betty for more than a few hours, I get extremely anxious that something may happen to them or they will need me
~ I would look like a plank on a day out at the seaside with my cardigan on, but taking it off would not be an option due to my fucked up arms.
~I have no money, I have £1.75 to last me until Tuesday
~ I just can't be arsed

For fucks sake I am 26 years old, how lame am I?

Nothing too drastic

So there was nothing too drastic to be heard at the doctors, I have very low iron due to the fact I have been bleeding a fair amount from my bottom. I am going to have a colonoscopy to check the source of the bleeding, but it is most likely to be internal hemeroids, but the main thing is nothing of concern (other than the iron) showed up in the blood test to indicate the bleeding is anything sinister.

My mood is a lot better, I am feeling a lot brighter. I feel a bit of a glow around me at the moment. I had my weekly appointment with my psychologist today rather than my usual Friday slot as obviously it is a bank holiday tomorrow. I talked a lot about my fear of food and about a strange habit I have picked up recently. The best way to describe it is that I become extremely obsessed and pre occupied about a certain food, but it becomes such an obsession that I actually eat it to stop myself obsessing over it. Which in turn makes me more anxious about it as I have eaten it. I probably haven't explained that very well, it is a hard thing to explain, but it is a relatively new thing that has been happening. I may make a video about it as it will be easier to explain.

I have had to have my jaw manipulated 4 days in a row as it has been locking. I am also having a problem with my left thumb at the moment, I hope the bone disease isn't developing there too.

I had my tenancy agreement for my new flat come through the other day, it makes it seem so real, I still find it hard to completely accept it is finally happening, it still feels like a bit of a dream. I watch the builders over there working on the roof of the building I am moving into, I will be able to move in as soon as they have finished. Maybe I could bribe them with cups of coffee and cakes to go faster!

Very worried

My GP has been trying to ring me all day, he has left an answer phone message saying he needs to discuss my blood test results with me ASAP, I wasn't due to get the results until Friday, he even tried ringing me at my parents house. I am shitting myself, he seems desperate to get hold of me, there must be something wrong. I am to scared to call back.

Thank you to Lotte for your comment on my blog yesterday, we both know the reality of how we can come up with these wonderful ideas of how we are going to do this and that and be so sure we are going to change the world and then the next day our minds do a complete U turn. But I am hoping I can make it last this time :)

A gift from nature

Today I received that gift from nature, my period. I have not had it for so long, I have known it was coming for over a week, the tell tell stomach cramps, bloating, tender breasts. My ED behaviours have not been as extreme recently, days of restricting followed by days of binging and purging, although the binging has reduced by about 50%. My weight seems to fluctuate between the same 3 pounds, I gain it and lose it then gain it again, so on. But compared to Christmas I am up about 13 pounds. So the weight gain has obviously pushed my body to the point where mother nature has given me that lovely gift back.

Now lets talk about how this makes me feel. Horrified, I feel like a failure. At Christmas my plan was so sure, I was going to starve until I died, I was so determined. I miss that determination. I miss being so sure about something. I feel like a failure, but do you know what most makes me feel like a failure? I am not sure if I do want to die any more. I actually think I may seriously want to try and want life.

I WANT TO LIVE

No pretending any more, this is real, I want to be here to move to my new flat, I want to be here to watch my babies (Bob, Betty, Ben and Molly) grow, they need me.

Now the hardest fight starts, the fight to live.

We just want you to be happy

That is what my Dad said to me today, I have such a hold over my family, they walk on egg shells around me, they are scared to speak to me in case either they say the wrong thing and upset me or they start me off crying and I have a full blown break down. It makes me think back to all I have put them through, what I have done to them. My family have had to witness things they should never of had to have.

A few years ago my sister looked after me solidly for a month after I cut both of my wrists at the same time and had surgery to repair them and could not use my hands. She took care of me like a child, she washed me, dressed me, brushed my hair and fed me, she would then drop me at our parents who would look after me whilst she was at work, she would pick me up on her way home and continue taking care of me. This is my  younger sister, I should be taking care of her, not the other way around.

 If I ring my parents home phone and ask to speak to someone I can hear the panic, the person who answered will rush to get the person I asked for on the line, panicking in case I am ringing because I have done something, am in hospital or even at the police station. They take the phone to bed with them, just in case.

My youngest brother who is now 15 is my best friend, but I feel like he feels he has to be, I love being near him as I no I am safe when he is here. But does he feel that I need him and feel he has a duty to spend time with me? He should be out with his friends, not spending evenings with his sister watching Eastenders.

I have a hold over people, a power. I hate it.

Locked Jaw

My jaw locked shut today for a couple of hours, the muscles in my left side now ache so much. I guess there is no avoiding that my bone disease is destroying what is left of my TMJ. I am seeing the senior surgeon in June, I do not want the operation again and was hoping things could be put off for a while, but it is looking like I am going to need it sooner rather than later. I am scared they are going to say I need the whole joint replaced, which will be even more of a major operation. After the first operation I was left with damaged muscles on the left side of my face which affected the closing of my left eye, it took a lot of physio to get that back, what happens if that happens again?

June is going to be one heck of a busy month, I am being discharged form the CMHT, moving flat, my sisters birthday and seeing the surgeon to find out what the plan is.

What ever is going to happen surgery wise I know that in the mean time they will make me a splint for my jaw, I have had three different ones over the last few years, they are horrible, very painful, and gross. I threw them all away as I was so sure that things were never going to go backwards with my jaw, very ignorant of me.

The fun begins.

For those of you that haven't seen them I have included the lovely photos from my last operation, at least I have a good photo collection from all of this!

Left to die?

I have been thinking and that is what it feels like. I am being discharged not because I am better, but because I am NOT better. I am so scared.

Being discharged

Oh yes, you have read it right, I am 'working towards discharge'. The plan is to discharge me from the CMHT in June. I have had more than my allotted amount of therapy and my psychologist says that I do not want to get better so there is no point in having more. The services are overstretched and so it is bye bye to me. I have been seeing my psychologist for over three years, I have failed to make significant progress, there are other people she could help. I am scared, scared of not having  that support network, granted I don't really  use it, but it is reassuring that it is there.

I wish I could have a CPN just to monitor me, someone to check in with and off load on, but they are too over run. I don't want to be on my own.

Rectal examination

I have just had a rectal examination, not the most enjoyable moment of my life. The bleeding that I have mentioned before has continued and I finally decided to get it checked out. That meant though that the fact I have missed my blood tests and weight check was noticed, bugger. I refused to be weighed, but have agreed to have my bloods done tomorrow. Mainly because they are not going to be just checking for the usual stuff they want to look for stuff to do with my bottom problem.

I had to ask the people below me to be quiet at half 12 again, they were fighting, shouting, screaming and banging. The noise is ridiculous, I have been told to call the police instead of going down there, but I feel silly calling the police and saying they are being noisy, they have better things to do. But my neighbours are very intimidating, but last night I had just had enough and went and shouted at them.

Self harm has been bad recently, lots of cutting, I have very little control over it at the moment. Food, well that is very up and down, I seem to go through a few days of restricting followed by a few days of binging and purging. But bit by bit my weight is creeping up. My face feels really full and my stomach feels very bloated and heavy. I miss starving, when I think back to around Christmas time where I never ate above 200 calories every day and I look at myself now, it is like two completely different people. I miss the dedication I had and can't understand why it is so different now. What scares me though is I have been here before, this pattern has happened so many times over the years and I know that unless I can get the control back my weight is going to just keep creeping up. If my weight goes up much more my BMI will no longer be in the anorexic category.