L arrived bright and early this morning. She was bright anyway. And it was early. I was tired and still in my PJs, but I was out of bed so she was very impressed. I asked if she had been planning to come and drag me out of bed if I wasn't up and she said not to put it past her. I think she would actually. Anyway, she took me to see the supported housing and someone gave us a tour of the place.
The vibe of it was very like a hostel or something. Very young - everyone I saw looked under 30. Very bright and colourful etc. There was a games room with a pool table and TV with various game things, and a computer with internet and a karaoke machine (!!). Then there was a TV room next door, which apparently has Sky. There was a garden and smoking area etc, but I don't smoke, and an art room, and a little gym with a treadmill and cross trainer and weights machine things etc. A laundry room with a couple of washing machines and a tumble dryer. There was a really massive kitchen/dining thing. It was like 2 kitchens really - the room was really long and there was a kitchen at each end, and then 2 big tables with chairs in the middle. Apparently everyone has a cupboard that locks to keep their stuff in, and then fridge space etc - there seemed like plenty of room. The bedroom I saw was quite nice. Apparently it was one of the smaller ones, but it was a reasonable size, and all of the rooms have ensuite shower rooms. They have furniture - bed, desk and chair, wardrobe and chest of drawers, but they said you can keep as much or little of that as you want. There are 12 rooms. It seemed fairly male dominated - there are currently only 3 girls. It seems like you get a lot of support. They come up with a plan of what you will be doing on a daily basis and what things you need help with, for example if you need help with cooking then that goes on there, or if you need help with your medication or shopping or whatever then they support you with it. There is always a member of staff available through the night etc.
I am not really sure how I feel about it at the moment. My biggest concern would be sharing a kitchen. I am not sure if I could cope with that. I wouldn't want to use anything that other people used. I also wouldn't go in there if I thought it might be dirty etc, and that could be problematic. I am a bit neurotic about cleanliness outside of my house, and even at home I am paranoid about what things have been used for etc. So I suppose the kitchen situation would be what I would find most difficult to deal with. I think I would also find it hard being around people so much more than I am now, but I suppose that is something that I should get used to really, as I know I probably spend too much time on my own at the moment. I think I also have difficulty seeing myself as needing supported accommodation like that. It just seems like something for people who are really ill, and I can't think of myself like that. On the other hand, I know that I would need quite a lot of support if I wasn't living at home. I think the time scale kind of freaks me out too. They said people stay there up to 2 years, and then there are 6 move on flats, so people either move into those, or they support them in finding somewhere in the community. I can't cope with the concept of being ill, or having problems that need support for another 2 years. It freaks me out. I feel like I need to be better now, or really soon, or I just can't cope. There is no point in having a life unless I am better now. Or really soon.
I really really hate thinking about the future. I am feeling really stressed and tense about everything. I am stressing about the summer course in America. I absolutely have to make a decision about it and I just can't. I don't remember the last time I had a month when I felt fairly stable the whole time. So why do I think I could have a stable month in another country, where I have absolutely no support, and would be working hard. Plus things like cooking and just looking after myself generally. There would be nobody to help me, either practically or emotionally. Unless I felt a hundred times better than I am at the moment then there is just no way at all that I could cope. There is also the added problem that I really don't know how my voice would cope - I haven't sung properly for over a year because of the problems with my voice, so singing a lot is probably a pretty bad idea. There is also the issue of cost. I have been lucky and been allocated some funding for the course, so it is a lot cheaper than it would have been otherwise, but it is still a lot of money, and by the time I have added on other costs such as flights and travel and food over there, and a couple of nights accommodation first to get rid of jet lag that is already a lot of money. And then I was intending to spend some time in New York after with a friend, as I have always wanted to go to New York, and so it would seem silly to not spend some time there when I would be flying home from there anyway. So basically the whole thing would cost me in excess of £2000. I do have that money, because I am a hoarder with money, and have saved my whole life, but I absolutely cannot afford to waste it. Which puts quite a lot of pressure on this decision. If I pay for the course and flights then that is immediately £1500, and if I was too ill to go then that would just be money down the drain. Thinking about it like this, the logical thing really seems to not go, and to reapply for next year if things are better by then. But if it gets to the summer and I would have been well enough to go then I will be really upset and frustrated with myself, and even if I know logically that I wouldn't have been well enough to go, I will still beat myself up over it because that is what I do. It will be added to my list of failures. And people keep telling me what a fantastic opportunity it is, and what a great experience it would be, and that just makes me feel even more pressure. I really wish I hadn't applied. I hate myself for always doing this. I always think too big, and end up getting stressed and frustrated and upset. I either back out of things and end up angry with myself for it, and thinking I am useless and pathetic, or I try and do it and end up getting ill. There are 2 occasions I have really tried to do something big and gone through with it - once was going to university, which landed me in hospital twice, and once trying to move part time to London to do a part time course, which resulted in me trying to kill myself. So I don't have a great track record. Admittedly these things were different, in that they weren't just for a month, but when I tried to do the course in London I spent 3 days crying, came home for the weekend, and tried to kill myself. So although it would have been more long term, I was only actually there for 3 days. God, I am so confused. I feel really stressed and overwhelmed.
I have spent hours writing this. Over 5 hours. I can't concentrate. I am really struggling. I just feel like everything is getting on top of me. I am really feeling like I can't cope. I suppose my dreadful sleep isn't helping. And my mum still hasn't picked up my Zopiclone. I am just having really strong suicidal thoughts. And it is really hard to think about the future when I don't even want to be here by tomorrow. I want to overdose. I really don't think I can cope. I don't want to be here. I feel really exhausted.
I feel like things are never going to get better. I feel like my brain is all broken into lots and lots of little pieces, and nothing can put it back together. Like Humpty Dumpty. It is about 6 and a half years ago now that I was first given anti depressants and referred to the CMHT. I am only 23. That is a big percentage of my life. Over a quarter of my life. And I have had lots of different medications, but none seem to have helped much, and so they seem to have been given up on. And I have seen so many different people – Psychiatrists and Psychologists and CPNs and OTs and Social Workers and Support Workers. And none of it has helped. I feel as bad now as I have ever done. Maybe worse. And I just don’t see how things are going to get better. It feels impossible. I feel like I am too broken; my brain is too confused and scrambled up to ever sort out. I can’t believe that I am nearly 24 and I have achieved nothing with my life. There is so much I thought I would have done by now, and now if I manage to shower and get dressed then that day has to be seen as an achievement. What is wrong with me? Why can't I just cope like other people do? Things should have got better by now. If I was ever going to get better then I feel like I would have started to by now. Where do I go from here? Am I supposed to just accept that this is my life? Because I can't do that. And I can't see things changing. Which brings me back to the option of killing myself. Whichever way I look at things, it seems to be the best option. In fact, at the moment I don't see any other options.