Overwhelmed ramblings

It is 4am and I am sitting here crying feeling totally overwhelmed and like my head is actually going to explode. This may not make much sense, I don't even know what I am saying yet. I just need to do something to try and ease my head a bit. It's been a really difficult evening and night, the thoughts are very strong, and I just seem to be finding it harder and harder to cope every day that goes by. I have no support for the next week and a half, and no way of accessing any other than calling whoever is on duty at the CMHT that day and them telling me to have a bath or go for a walk. I am feeling so desperate and I just keep trying to carry on and keep going and it just feels like torture, and I feel like there is nothing to keep trying for. There aren't even any small things that I can use as little targets, for example this time last week I knew I was seeing my GP the next day, then the crisis team the next day and so on, and although these weren't fun things, and in fact they made me very anxious, knowing that I had some support was helping me cope. I found it really difficult on Monday when I didn't hear from the crisis team like I had been told I would, but I knew that I was seeing L on Tuesday and I was just desperately hoping that would help a bit, or that she would be able to offer something in the way of support, or just something, anything. Since then I have been finding it harder and harder as I am just feeling incredibly unsupported.

I think a week or two ago I said how people always expect me to cope because I generally do, but that was the case last time I attempted suicide, when the only support I had was fortnightly sessions with a psychologist who I hated and found very unsupportive. I always thought that at least now I would never feel as unsupported as that, because I have L who has always been very supportive of me, but in a way it is worse at the moment, because I didn't expect that psychologist to do anything to try and help - she very clearly had a problem with me, and I found her patronising and sanctimonious. I felt like actually she couldn't have cared less whether I killed myself or not, and so I didn't expect any support from her. I hoped for different from L. She always has been very caring, and she would care if I killed myself, or I think she would, but I am still not getting any more support, and that almost hurts more and feels harder, because I hoped for more. Hope is dangerous, because then you end up in an even worse position if whatever you have hoped for doesn't materialise.

When the crisis team let me down at the weekend, by making promises that didn't materialise such as arranging an urgent appointment with the psychiatrist, and saying they would phone me and then not doing so, I wasn't that surprised, because most people I know have had bad experiences with crisis teams, including me. But it still hurt that they discharged me without telling me. And then I saw L, and I know I must have been very difficult that appointment, because at the moment my mood swings between just wanting to die, and feeling like I need to try and get through this but that I can't do it alone, and that morning I just wanted to die, which isn't really surprising given that I had a stressful day the previous day when I was essentially waiting to hear from the crisis team the entire day, then a difficult night with only a few hours sleep. I was obviously not in fighting mode. But I was still honest about everything. And to just have an appointment made for two weeks time actually felt quite devastating. As I said yesterday, I spoke to my GP, who seemed unimpressed with the crisis team discharging me, and L not seeing me for two weeks, although I did say that L would be on leave next week. And now it is Thursday night, or technically Friday morning, the suicidal thoughts are very strong, the person I have trusted most for the last 18 months hasn't seemed able to offer me any support this week, and is on leave next week, and I am being left with nothing and I am just supposed to get through and cope somehow and I just can't do it. I know this sounds terribly self pitying, but I have been trying so fucking hard, and doing everything you are told to in terms of asking for help etc, and it has just got me nowhere. And I am still feeling as bad as ever, and feeling less and less able to keep going, but with nowhere to turn. And I don't want to upset people or let people down; my family, my friends, the cast of the show, everyone who reads this or who I talk to on Twitter, L, my GP, which is why I have been trying so hard to keep going, and why even when I have wanted to die I have been honest about my feelings. But I just feel like I can't keep going any more. Today I thought about calling L, as she had said on Tuesday that she would be there today if I needed to talk, but I realised I had absolutely nothing to say. I couldn't ring and say 'Well you already know I am feeling desperately low and that I intend to kill myself, but I just thought I would remind you' and what else is there to say? I have asked for help, and that didn't get me anywhere. I feel ready to punch the next person who tells me that I am strong and that I can get through this (no offence to anyone if you have said that) because I can't cope with being strong at the moment and I can't get through this. So I didn't call. And then after tomorrow she won't be in work until the 21st, and there is no way that I can cope that long. Or that I want to. I know it is selfish, but I can't keep living for other people, which is what I have been trying to do lately. And I can't cope with no support. I feel like I have been backed into a tiny corner so that the only option I have been left with is suicide.

I realised something a little while ago. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to perform. For years and years it has been my ambition, my dream, to be in the West End. It has been the thing I have worked towards for years, and it is the only thing that I ever care about. Performing has always meant everything to me, and being in the West End has been like a life ambition. And I realised that if someone came to me tomorrow and offered me a job in the West End I would still want to die. I want to die more than I want the thing I have wanted and worked towards for as long as I can remember. And I don't think there has ever been a point in my life, however low I have felt, when I could have said that before. And that is a really horrible thing to realise. My lifelong ambition wouldn't be enough to make me want to stay alive.

Somehow it has taken me nearly 2 hours to write that. I don't know what my head is doing at the moment. It feels like time is playing games with me.