Forgive me, for its been 4 months since my last confession

IMG_20170202_163919_548Wow, 4 months have passed since i last wrote on here. Thats crazy! Really 4 months? Just after my suicide attempt, i had so many things i needed to get out of my head, and writing on here made me feel at least someone somewhere was reading it. It wasnt a wasted evacuation of such strong emotion.

I actually genuinely cannot remember most of November or December. Weird that isnt it! I had several medication changes though, but also used alcohol as a coping mechanism a bit. Worst thing was i convinced friends i was fine. I have a knack of doing that, always have. That is likely why i stopped my therapeutic posts. Then January happened…in another blur…depressed, anxious, maybe bipolar, keep it together, this is your year, you shouldn’t have been saved, life is good, life needs to end, im an amazing person, im the scum off your shoe. Worst roller coaster ever!!

In my previous posts i pointed out i had a really good rapport with my psychiatrist. However, being NHS care, he had gone above and beyond by keeping me in his care. The Access team is hospital based, and usually, unless the patient/client has a need to be admitted, they refer to the community care team. I asked not to be, because i find it hard opening up. Im also a nurse, so maybe i had some professional respect for this to happen. He was convinced he would be able to help me within a month or so, i had to be discharged and referred on in January. I actually felt like i had somehow let him down! Crazy? But he could see my rational, well educated, intelligent side, and i wasnt previously known to mental health secondary care.

Then someome close said that i wasnt defined by my mental illness, and maybe i was starting to get used to the attention from people after the said (almost) hanging incident. That i wasnt defined by it and i was probably alot better than i thought i was. Fair comment….i for one thought, am i loving the attention? Was i?? Im an introvert by nature though….

I dont really like attention unless i draw it to myself, which is usually only if im drunk. Labels follow people. I could have lots nurse, single, single mum, depressed, anxious, mentally ill, suicidal, then in my head…attention seeker, selfish, evil.

I have my next appointment with now my 3rd psychiatrist next week. I need it. I start drinking wine when im feeling like i dont belong here. I’ve done it alot lately. Its so hard to talk to people who arent or havent been through it.

Am i just insane?

Hoping I’m a Phoenix 🔥

​I’m finding it difficult at the moment to understand my emotions. I’d say I’m up and down. I’ve always been quite spiritual and I guess I’d describe myself as agnostic if I had to tick a box on a form. However I’m struggling with everything internally in my mind. I believe this is likely a consequence of the ego part of me having difficulty coming to terms with the fact I was going to end my life recently. 

I’ve been starting to feel so much pain and guilt for those around me, those who love me, those who found me in that state when I was completely taken over by the need not to exist anymore on this level, in this life. 

It’s like a new beginning. I’ve always had a fascination with the mythical phoenix, which is reborn from its own ashes. This is also a symbol related to my sun sign Scorpio, and I’ve always been able to pull myself back and rise again no matter how low ive got or how tough life has gotten for me. I even have a large phoenix tattoo on my body to remind me of this when I look in a mirror. The trouble is, when I’m looking in a mirror I don’t know who I am seeing. Is this the start of a rebirth in my life? I feel it may well be. But where do I go from here? Friends and family are saying not to worry about it right now, to focus on getting better. I feel a bit helpless over my future and this is definitely hindering my recovery. I’ll discuss it with my psychiatric team tomorrow.

I’ve also not been sleeping well, and have been wracked with fatigue and general disinterest. It’s like the medication perked me up initially, and although I know it’s going to take time, im just longing to be a part of life again. It’s my mind that’s hindering me. It’s like living in a prison in my head some days. I’m not suicidal now. But the after effects of it are starting to hit home. I’m feeling a bit lost. 

Does everyone feel this way who’s survived a suicide attempt I wonder? Could this be all part of my recovery? Facing these demons and riding the emotional waves of depression until I can look in the mirror and see the person I truly am? Or will this last forever? 

Having a down few days, but still fighting on….

A rare moment of creativity 🌟

Severe Depression: It is what it is

Today I’m glad I’m here alive,
But what do I feel is a question,
I know I’m planning to survive,
Accepting any suggestion.

I’m tired, thinking all the time,
But of what I do not know,
I’ve always said that I’ve been fine,
Pretending like a show.

Its time to face the demons now,
I’ve always hidden them well,
Accept the help to show me how,
I need to escape this hell.

Small steps taken every day,
Acknowledge my illness is real,
Finally I can admit and say,
I need time and help to heal.


Original
poem

By
 Clarissa Strickland

Doped up…but not dead 👏

The double dose of medication has wiped me out today. Woozy is an understatement. If it was for any other aspect of my depression,  aside from helping me relinquish suicidal thoughts and my actions last week, I probably would have opposed the idea of pharmaceutical treatment. But I know at this point it’s something that is helping me. I also know it’s not for everyone. Maybe that’s why I’m writing about it.

I cant say I’m not calmer because I definitely am. I’m feeling quite useless though really, a few years ago I worked in A&E as a nurse, very hectic and always on the ball helping save many lives and help people in distress. In striking comparison, today’s achievment was that I walked to a shop round the corner for a packet of cigarettes without looking up from the floor except to cross one road.


It’s bizarre how much your life can change because of a mental health condition. 

I suppose it’s the same for physical conditions, but a man with an oxygen tank on his back with COPD wouldn’t be seen as rude for not holding a door open. Someone with anxiety for example could just be trying to escape as quickly as possible.

I almost became a mental health nurse strangely enough. My first year of nurse training was in mental health. I’ve been thinking about so much today it’s been a tough day. But still no suicidal thoughts so I feel like I’m winning.

My sister is a holistic therapist, so I’m going to have a warm bath with a few drops of Clary Sage in it. It’s an essential oil and helps with depression. I’m up for anything. Then hopefully I’ll sleep longer tonight, even with Diazepam I only got 4 hours last night and that was 4 hours of disturbing dreams.

I’m telling myself this is the beginning of the healing process and every day will be a challenge. Today is almost done. 

I’m grateful im here.