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.

GLAD I’m Alive today

​I spent the last few days in my mum and dads while I’ve started on medication. I’ve been prescribed Venlafaxine 75mg for 5 days, then it’s doubling on day 5 to 150mg, half morning half night. I’ve also been given a 7 day course of Diazepam to calm me and help me sleep.
An apt expression is that going on medication is a bitter pill to swallow. I’m not the biggest advocate of mental health medications or even some medications for a variety of physical conditions but that’s for another post. However, medication  was not coerced or recommended. I was involved in my care plan and it was me that suggested part of my recovery will likely involve medication amongst other elements. Also pointing out that the first line medications had not worked for me in the past which was a concern. So anyway, I’m now on day 4. I’ll probably discuss my care plan another day.

I’ve not had any severe side effects upto now. My short term memory has gone extremely poor, and its never been the greatest anyway. I’m that friend everyone has who loses their keys for an hour and they’re in her hand. But this is worse, im hoping it doesn’t get any worse when I increase dose tomorrow. Other side effect is very mild nausea on waking, dry mouth and loss of appetite. All manageable completely.

I’m feeling calm today. I’ve been listening to music, which I haven’t done unless a friend has been in mine for months. I’m back in my own apartment today. I’ve also kept busy by organising and tidying.

I’ve started opening up fully to my close family and friends about how I’ve been feeling for the majority of this year, and even longer. It’s been beyond difficult to begin to finally open up. Everytime I do, I have to get past those uncomfortable initial words to describe aspects of my depression having to ease the person listening in. Ive hidden it so well it’s a shock to everyone the depth and severity of it. However, releasing dark unspeakable  (so i thought) emotions that I’ve managed to bury deep inside is helping me. It’s helping my support network understand and it’s going to be a major factor in my recovery.

7 days ago I wanted to end my life

I’m still here, I want to get better. I am mentally ill and I can be helped. That’s what I want. I want to see a future. Writing this down is helping me so much.

Breakdown and ending it all

This is difficult to write but I think it will be good therapy for me, so here goes…

Last Monday, I had every intention of ending my life. I had a rope, I was going to hang myself. I didn’t see any other option. I felt like the world would be better without me and I’d be better without all this pain and torment im in every day. I wanted out. I wrote a long letter explaining it to my family. Just as I was doing this a friend messaged me asking if I was ok. I said I wasnt but I was sorry then turned off my phone, bolted my front door and cried. I then cleaned up as I didn’t want to be found in a mess, even that sounds crazy to me. I then started figuring out where to put the rope where it wouldn’t snap.

The next thing two of my friends came hammering on my door and I tried ignoring them but they’d of kicked the door in anyway. They seen the cuts id already done on my arms. I’d done this to try and feel something. I’ve never self harmed before. I felt nothing doing it. I didn’t feel real anymore. As though I was watching a movie of someone else’s life. I cant figure out what’s real and what’s a dream anymore.

My friends seen what id done to my arms, I was hysterical and cant remember much about what happened next except i kept saying “i just dont wanna be here anymore, i dont wanna be here anymore”. It was the most soul shattering painful moment of utter despair and anguish ive ever experienced and i would never wish that intensity of confusion, self loathing, despair and loss of any sense of self on any other person ever.

My friends must have contacted my parents, as the next I knew my mum was there and I cried again. I felt numb, I still felt like I wanted to die. My parents took me home. The next day they took me to A&E where I seen the mental health crisis team. I spoke about things I didn’t even realise I was holding inside. I got some relief from it but still have these thoughts of suicide. 

I seen a consultant  psychitrist yesterday. We chatted for 2 hours, I didn’t think I had so much to say!! My diagnosis is recurrent severe depression. I have a care plan in place now and I just need to take each day at a time and speak about my suicidal thoughts. One of my problems is I’ve been hiding this so well for years im finding talking so hard. 

Writing this down has actually been a bit of a release.  I intend on documenting my recovery on here so I can look back and see where I was, where I am and where I want to be.