Break

Just wanted to let you all know I am not intending to blog for a while. I may or may come back to it, I don't know. I have met some wonderful friends through this blog who I value enormously, but I feel too much like I am being judged by what I write here to continue. I have nothing to talk about except how I feel, and that is not changing, and I can't cope with being accused of crying wolf for talking about my feelings, so I feel a break is in order. The suicidal thoughts are incredibly strong, but since I am still alive that apparently proves I am just attention seeking, and the fact that the professionals and my family know how I am feeling but don't offer any more support makes me feel like they either also think I am attention seeking, or that they have accepted my decision - it doesn't really matter which. As I have said before, I have been having trust issues for a while, and they have just been exacerbated by things that have been going on on Facebook lately in relation to this blog, and I just can't deal with it. I had been considering taking a break anyway, and events tonight have made up my mind. If I am around, those of you who want to keep in touch with me know how to. Thank you very much for all of the support over the past 15 months or so. I appreciate it enormously and wish you all the best. xxxx

Karita

I was lucky enough today to be visited by the lovely Karita. I can honestly say that she is one of the most caring, supportive people I have ever met. It was really good to have someone there, in 'real life' who I didn't need to pretend with, and who was completely non judgemental and made me feel cared about. Despite having never met her before, I felt able to be completely honest with her, which although I do when writing on this blog, I find incredibly hard to do when actually speaking to someone, but I just felt completely at ease with her. She spent hours listening to me and cuddling me and letting me cry, and just being completely wonderful. I can't say how much I appreciated her visit. Her husband, who is also lovely, drove her up here, and then left us to it for a few hours, and then I had my appointment with Dr O, which she came to with me, and then we came back home and they both came in for several hours, and left at about 9pm. They don't live close to me, and so it really did mean such a lot that they had made so much effort to come and visit me. I am always amazed that anyone could care about me at all, let alone someone who had never even met me, and had to travel hours to come and see me, just because I am struggling so much. I am immensely grateful that she did though, and just for the record, she gives great hugs! I really can't thank her enough.

My GP appointment was fairly uneventful I think. Karita may remember more if than I do - I don't have a great memory about appointments. My mum had spoken to L at some point today, and told me that L had said to ask for blood tests to be done, which she did suggest to me a couple of weeks ago, but I forgot about, and that if my GP was happy to then she could prescribe an anti depressant. How kind! I have only been saying for about nine months that I thought I was better on medication, even if it was only slightly. My GP said that since I have problems sleeping as well then Mirtazapine might be a good one. I can't remember if I actually laughed out loud at that or just in my head, but I said there was no way I was taking it, and she asked why, and I said because of the weight gain. She said that I knew too much, and that she wouldn't have told me about that. Suggestion number two was Seroxat. Since I had no actual intention of taking anything that was prescribed due to the whole suicidal thing, I did let her give me a script for that, but it is not a medication I have ever wanted to take, primarily because of the controversy over it regarding stopping taking it, and also the fact that it increases suicidal thoughts in some people. I mentioned the Panorama programme and got told off for knowing too much again. I am sure Karita won't mind me saying that my favourite part of the appointment was when Dr O was talking to her and asking where she had come from and if she worked etc, and then asked if she had taken time off work, ie meaning today to come and see me, and Karita was clearly thinking in mental health terms and replied 'no, not recently'. My second favourite bit in the appointment was after telling my GP how suicidal I was feeling, she asked what my parents were doing tomorrow, and said (quite excitedly I thought) that there was point to pointing on, and seemed to be presenting that as a reason to stay alive. My GP is sweet, she is very well meaning, and she cares, but I think Karita would probably agree that mental health is not her speciality, and she does come out with some comments that are either very random, like the point to pointing suggestion, or quite unhelpful, like trying to guilt trip me into staying alive by telling me how it would destroy people's lives if I killed myself etc. I never find comments like that at all helpful, as of course I think about it - I think about it non stop, and I hate myself for it, and I wish there was an alternative, which is why I continue to seek help even when I no longer want it for myself, but there does come a time when your pain is just too immense, and even knowing how much you will upset the people you care about just isn't enough, but I think that is probably something that is incredibly difficult for anyone to understand unless they have actually felt that level of desperation themselves. I tried to be honest with Dr O. I think I was, although I did find I was getting more and more frustrated as the appointment went on, and so remembered less and less of what was being said. She just kept telling me that I could keep going, and that I could see the nurse for blood tests next week and then her again the following week, and I was getting more and more worked up as the suicidal thoughts are just so overwhelming. She told me to book the appointments for the blood test and to see her again, and also told Karita to talk to me about things or something when we got home (I'm not really sure - I think she was telling her to persuade me not to kill myself?) and then to phone and speak to her later, but I didn't book the appointments, as it seemed entirely pointless, and I didn't phone her, as I had seen her an hour before - I had nothing else to say. She did phone and spoke to my mum, but I have no idea what was said.

The suicidal thoughts are very strong and very overwhelming. I truly wish there was a way out of all of this without hurting people, but there isn't. I can't cope, I am completely desperate, and yet again I am in the position where I am next due to see someone in nearly two week's time. I am out of options. I have told everyone how I feel. I have tried to get help, even when I haven't wanted it. I have tried to keep going. I have tried doing the things I am supposed to be doing, like going to bed early the other night, going for a walk etc etc, but I still feel the same. It was really great to see Karita - she really was an absolute star, and I love her to pieces, and all of the support I get online is invaluable, but nobody can take away the thoughts, and at times like these when I am alone with them it is just all too much. I have no hope for the future, I have no fight left in me - I have nothing but desperation.

Another day

It isn't getting any easier. Last night was horrible. I literally was unable to keep my eyes open, and fell asleep, crying because I needed to stay awake longer so that I could wait for my parents to go to bed and kill myself but just couldn't do it. I slept for a few hours, and then woke at about 2:30am I think. I was still feeling utterly exhausted, but not sleepy. I needed the toilet but I didn't have the energy to move, so I held it in for about three hours before I finally reached the point where it was moving or wetting the bed. When I woke up I was questioning whether or not it was too late in the night to go ahead with my plan. I don't do things on impulse, and I will not attempt suicide unless I think there is at least some chance of it working, and obviously the higher the better, and for my first choice plan this means leaving as much time as possible before anyone will find me. My second choice plan isn't time limited, but is very much a last resort plan as far as I am concerned. I knew that the man from the DWP could arrive any time after 9:30am, which meant that potentially I didn't have that long, or at least not in comparison to the length of time I would sometimes have, and I was yet to write the note I wanted to leave, which would have taken some time, and so ultimately I decided I couldn't do anything. I decided I would prefer to wait one or two more days and have a higher chance of it being successful. I was still very upset about it all though, and once I had woken up I couldn't get back to sleep for at least four hours. I came online and talked to Danni on Facebook chat for a long time, who was very supportive. I found I was getting increasingly worked up about everything, and so in the end decided to call out of hours, and ended up speaking to the same woman I had spoken to the previous night. She seemed different last night - I suspect she had looked at my notes and seen the BPD diagnosis, as she was certainly less supportive than she had been the night before, and started going on about doing a part time college course and moving out and various other things that feel beyond me when I am doing better, let alone at the moment, whereas the previous night she had been surprised by the lack of support and was telling me I needed to fight to get suitable help. Of course I can't prove anything, but her attitude was definitely different last night. It didn't really help talking to her, as the things she was talking about were just so far out of my realm of possibilities that it was more frustrating than anything else. After I spoke to her I came back online for a little while, but was feeling really quite upset, and decided I would go and invade my mum's bed and sleep in there, which I sometimes do when I feel shit.

Today my mum woke me up at around midday, as the DWP man arrived. It was pretty ridiculous really - he had been sent around because the Inland Revenue had a query about the amount of interest my savings account had made in 06/07. They thought it seemed too high. I said that since I have always had to send off bank statements to the DWP, they have always known how much money I have, and so I don't see how there can be a query about the interest, when they had a statement to go with it. He said it clearly hadn't been entered on the system properly or he wouldn't have been sent around. It seems ridiculous that they will send someone around about something from five years ago, that would have been unnecessary if people had done their jobs properly. He then had to go through all of his form and ask if I had had any changes in circumstances, if I was still unable to work, etc etc. I have got to dig out all of my bank statements since November '09 and send them to him - that will be a mission. He was very friendly though, not remotely confrontational or pushy, and if I hadn't been feeling so awful and exhausted it wouldn't have been remotely stressful.

This afternoon my mum dragged me (pretty much literally) out on a walk with the dog with her. I didn't want to go - I felt ridiculously tired, my head was feeling like it was going to explode, and my legs felt like lead. I can't say it was remotely enjoyable, in fact I loathed it, but at least they can't say I am not trying. She has also been making sure I have some food, although I have absolutely no appetite. I am not eating three meals a day, or anything even approaching it, but I am having something every day. The suicidal thoughts have been very intense again today. I got very upset earlier and just kept telling my mum I wanted to die. Today I felt like I reached a point where I no longer wanted help, I didn't care that L wasn't doing anything, or that I couldn't see the crisis team, or anything else. I just don't care anymore. I am too drained and too exhausted, and too sick of fighting. I have given up on trying to get help, as it clearly doesn't work, and I feel fine about that. I just don't want to be here.

Today I have felt very undecided about whether I was going to act on the thoughts tonight or not. It is actually another blogger who has made me decide not to do anything tonight. I desperately want to, but another day can't hurt right?? A couple of days ago the lovely Karita offered to come and visit me tomorrow. At the time I was planning to kill myself last night, but since I am still here today, I have decided that I can get through one more night. It amazes me how kind and caring people can be - I am so grateful to all of you out there who have been so supportive of me. It means so much. Lovely Frankie phoned earlier and we had a nice chat. I feel very lucky to have such caring people around me, albeit online rather than in person (except for tomorrow of course). I also have my GP appointment tomorrow, which again, I wasn't planning to be here for, but the combination of that and Karita visiting are making me think I must get through tonight. I know there is nothing my GP can do, and as I said, I am past the point where I want help to be honest, but she was very caring and supportive when I spoke to her yesterday, and she said repeatedly that she really wanted me to go and see her tomorrow, so I will. There really is nothing she can do - L has effectively blocked both the crisis team and hospital, and I don't even think that seeing the crisis team would be enough anymore anyway, and I don't want to be in hospital. I think this is the worst depression I have ever been in. It isn't lifting at all, and there is usually at least some part of me that wants help, but trying so hard to get it and getting nowhere has just taken the last of my fight out of me, and I have nothing left. I have been trying to do what I am told - I went to bed early last night, and it was a disaster, I went for a walk and hated it, and it exhausted me to the point that I had to go back to bed and just lie down in the dark when I got back - I didn't even have the energy to have my laptop on. At least nobody will be able to say I haven't tried everything. But I will get through tonight, and tomorrow I will spend some time with Karita, who is lovely (and I am sure spending time with friends must be another approved thing to do - they always seem to ask if I have friends I can see), and I will see my GP, and hopefully that will be the end of my involvement with any professionals. I did feel like it was unfair of me to let Karita come all this way to see me when I am such a mess and will probably be really shit company, but she has assured me that she doesn't mind. I don't care what anyone says - the internet is really really great. (Any musical theatre fans can carry on with the lyrics from there!)

This evening

I am absolutely exhausted, to the point where I don't think I can keep my eyes open any more. I got very little sleep last night, and it has been a really draining day. I feel gutted. I was really determined to kill myself tonight, but my parents will still be up for another hour/hour and a half, and I don't think I can say awake that long. I feel immensely frustrated. My GP rung me earlier, after afternoon surgery. Actually she rung the landline and spoke to my mum first, but I don't know what she said to her. Then she spoke to me and said that things were really tough at the moment weren't they, and I said yes. She said how it seemed a particularly bad period, and I said it is. I talked to her for quite a while. I got quite upset several times. She said she wanted me to go and see her Friday - I said I couldn't cope and I intended to be dead by then. She said that she had spoken to L, and L had very clearly told her not to refer me to the crisis team under any circumstances. She kept saying she really wanted to see me on Friday and we could talk about things then. I said there was no point, as there was nothing she could do, and I wanted to die today, but she said she was putting it in her diary anyway and would expect to see me. She said I sounded too exhausted to act on my thoughts. I said I was absolutely shattered but that I would find the energy. And yet now I don't seem to be able to, and it is upsetting me. I can't remember what else my GP said. She was very supportive, but it was also very clear she had been told by L not to suggest admission or crisis team input, as she responded different to how she usually would, and did make a point a couple of times of saying she had spoken to L. I said how pissed off and upset I was that I felt like I was being treated like a typical Borderline, and given no support or help, when this was quite clearly a depressive episode, and that if I didn't have a BPD diagnosis there was no way on earth that I would just be left to get on with things like this with no support, and people knowing I was planning to kill myself. She didn't disagree.

My mum then wanted to talk to me. I explained to her the same BPD/Depression frustrations, and how I don't understand why when I meet every criteria without exception for one illness, and just about manage to get the 5 criteria needed for diagnosis for the other, that is seen as my primary diagnosis and I am treated based on that. She asked to see the diagnostic criteria and printed it off and said she would call L tomorrow. I also told her how much L had changed - that she used to be really supportive and caring and how she is just totally unhelpful and I think she hates me, and I think she has been taken over or replaced or something, because it is genuinely like she is a different person - based on the way she speaks to me now compared with six months ago I wouldn't recognise her as the same person. I am worried about my mum talked to L. L can clearly force her way of thinking onto others, in the way that she has with my GP (although I believe it was somehow forced onto L in the first place, but I am not sure how) and so she will make my mum think she is right about everything. All of this was probably about a ten minute conversation and then she seemed to get bored of the wanting to talk thing and went off downstairs, and then later when I said I thought she wanted to talk, she first of all said that I wouldn't ever talk to her, then remembered I had and said that we had already talked and that she wanted to go downstairs and drink her wine. I can't trust anyone. Nobody is reliable. I was prepared to tell my mum everything, including my suicidal intent, but she was more interested in going and having a glass of wine. My GP has been restricted so she is as good as useless, as she can't even refer me to someone, and it doesn't matter how sympathetic she is, if she can't do anything it doesn't help. And L has changed beyond recognition.

I can't keep my eyes open. I suppose I am going to have to sleep. Maybe I will be able to wake up in the night. I don't know. I don't want to sleep. I don't want to get through tonight. I want to die. But it appears that my GP was right and I am too bloody exhausted to even do that. I feel thoroughly useless.

Just stop

It is 5:15am and I am not remotely sleepy, and am feeling very tense, despite taking 10mg Diazepam. The suicidal thoughts are really in full swing, and although I am not intending to act on them tonight, it doesn't make them any weaker or easier to cope with. I think I might have to have another Diazepam, as when I feel like this my thoughts just go into overdrive and I have absolutely no chance of sleeping.

I am feeling so alone. I know I have support online, and I am truly grateful for that, but in real life I have absolutely nothing, and it is hard. Actually it is much worse than hard. I desperately feel like I need some support, but there is nowhere to turn. My GP works Wednesdays, but there is no point contacting her, as I have grasped exactly what she thinks from my mum speaking to her last week, and she has certainly been turned against me. I could phone and speak to whoever is on duty at the CMHT, but a) I don't trust that it won't be a fuckwit on duty, as there are several of them, b) they will all be against me too, and c) they will either suggest going for a walk, having a bath, or listening to music, and none of those are remotely helpful suggestions at the moment. I always find walking very anxiety provoking - I am always paranoid that someone is following me, and it really does scare me. I find baths the opposite of relaxing. I hate just lying there with my thoughts. I don't see how that is supposed to be relaxing or helpful. And I usually love music, but as I have explained on here before, I find it really difficult to listen to at the moment unless there is a particular song I need to hear - otherwise it just sounds like irritating noise that is drilling through my head, even if it is a CD I usually love. The TV is similar - I get a headache within about 5 minutes of turning it on as it just overwhelms me. And I can't concentrate to read. So essentially, anything they might suggest I do is useless, and therefore I am fucked.

I miss L. I know that sounds weird, given that she has been turned against me, and hasn't done anything to help me lately, but I do. I guess that is why attachment issues are such a bitch. Even when you know someone isn't helping, you can't get over them. I was thinking about it, and actually I don't think things have ever been quite the same with her since that time in November when I felt very let down by her. Things did get back on track and feel ok after that, but I suppose I never had quite the same level of trust in her following that, and now I feel like she doesn't care about me at all and doesn't care what happens to me, as she just left me with an appointment for a fortnight's time when she knew how awful I was feeling. And yet I still miss her. That is wrong, and it pisses me off. I am angry with myself for wanting to talk to her. I don't want to miss her. I want to be angry with her. But every time I am feeling desperate I just get this overwhelming desire to talk to her. And yet last Thursday and Friday when she was in work, and I could have rung her, I didn't because I was just too upset. I feel really confused about the whole thing. I suppose it is a bit like the situation with my mum. I still feel like she has been turned against me where my mental health is concerned, but I still love her despite that. I feel let down by her, and I feel like she either doesn't believe me, or doesn't care about me any more, in much the same way I feel about L, but she is still my mum, and I still love her. I just have to accept that I can't rely on her for support. And I suppose it would be the same with L, except our whole relationship is based on support, as that is why she is there, which makes it much more awkward, But of the CMHT she is still the only person I want to talk to. I feel lost and alone and desperate, and like the people I have relied on and trusted the most are no longer there for me. I really feel like I can't cope.

I have rehearsal again tonight. It is going to be a long one, as I have to get there an hour early to work on my solos with the musical director, and then I have the normal rehearsal, so I will be there from 6:30 until at least 10, possibly 10:30. It's all too much. I want to scream and shout and cry but I don't think that would be appreciated by my parents or my neighbours given that it is 5:30am. I just can't cope. I want out. I want to make everything stop. Just stop. Why isn't it getting any easier? Surely it should be getting easier. And it isn't. It just gets harder and harder. I don't believe that these thoughts and feelings are going to go away without me acting on them. It is too intense. And it feels like the right thing to do. I don't want to wait for them to pass. I just want to make it all stop.

Weight and Cake

I feel hideous. I have gained over 2lbs the last few days, and although I am aware that isn't very much, my weight does not fluctuate except with actual weight gain and loss, and I just feel like I have lost control of the sole thing that was actually ok and I wasn't feeling hideous about. The strange thing is, I still have no appetite. I am not hungry. I have just been eating for the sake of it, and that really annoys me. If I am hungry and I eat then that is kind of fair enough, although I still resent it if it causes weight gain, but not even being hungry and yet still managing to eat enough that I gain weight is just shit to be honest. I just feel revolting.

Naturally the way to solve the problem was to make a cake..... I do wonder about my intelligence at times. My mum clearly wanted a birthday cake though - when she was in Sainsbury's last week she phoned me and said they had the Betty Crocker Devil's Food Cake mix on offer, plus the icing and should she buy them. I said she may as well buy the cake mix, since those cakes always turn out perfectly, whereas generally I find chocolate cakes a bit hit and miss as to whether they are delicious or dry, despite using the same recipe. Ironically I said not to bother with the icing, since icing isn't exactly difficult to make. Yesterday's endeavor clearly proved me wrong on that score. So anyway, I cheated and used the packet mix for the cake (which I did on Sunday) and then planned to decorate it yesterday, but as I explained, it all went hideously wrong as the buttercream curdled, and absolutely nothing I tried made it right again. So today I started again. I wanted two lots of icing - white chocolate for the middle layer and for piping, and normal chocolate for the top and sides. It all went fine. It just took so long. I don't know if I am just spectacularly crap at doing things like that, or if my concentration is bad enough at the moment that I went off into my own thoughts for long periods at a time, but from starting to make the icing, to the cake being totally finished took three hours, which is pretty ridiculous quite frankly - I wasn't attempting anything terribly complicated, and I did absolutely nothing in that time apart from that. Wondering if maybe some dissociating was going on, as three hours is just an absurd length of time for it to have taken when I look back at it. Due to my lack of imagination the cake looks remarkably similar to the cake I made for Mother's Day last year. Here are cake pictures since I have nothing interesting to say;

Isolating

Today has been yet another difficult day. I am finding I am wanting to cut myself off from people - I think that not trusting the professionals or my parents is making me suspicious of everyone, even the people I talk to online, who I know are always supportive of me. So I haven't spent much time online today. I came online earlier and tried to read a few blogs, and I sat and watched Twitter for a while, but couldn't say anything. Everything feels very overwhelming. I seem to be spending more and more time staring into space and not being able to do anything, because even the internet is starting to feel like too much, and I found that ok until the last couple of days, as it didn't make any noise and didn't involve any concentration. But now I find it gives me a headache. I am absolutely dreading rehearsal later. I am terrified. I am scared of leaving the house. I am scared of being around people. I am scared of having to interact and pretend to be ok. At rehearsal last Wednesday I was told by about five people that I looked ill or pale and was I ok. Since I had missed the Monday rehearsal by saying I had a stomach bug, I told them I still wasn't feeling too great. I can't do that again tomorrow, but when I am feeling this bad my ability to pretend to be fine seems to leave me. I can do it all of the time, and not being able to is really a sign of things being rock bottom for me. I have to go to ballet too, and the same applies, although at least there is less time for socialising there, and I can get by better on auto pilot there, as I know the syllabus so well. Ok, I may not be dancing it as well as I could, but I can get by without drawing too much attention to myself. When I am at rehearsal and learning choreography or singing a song I don't know particularly well, or being told my blocking for a scene, I have to concentrate more, and I can't concentrate at the moment. I am finding it a lot of pressure at the moment.

Plus it is my mum's birthday. Since I never know what date it is, I didn't realise how soon her birthday was until the middle of last week, so I haven't got her much in the way of a present. I feel like a shit daughter. I made a cake today, although I cheated and used a packet mix, as they always turn out so perfect, and later I need to make icing and decorate it. We won't have long at home - we only have about 45 minutes on a Monday between her getting home from work, and having to leave for ballet. I had planned to have the cake all done for then and give her the little present I do have for her and her card, but she said tonight that my sister is coming over. This is my sister who hasn't spoken to me since October and does a bloody good job at ignoring me completely if she is unfortunate enough to see me somewhere, for example when we were both singing soprano in the same carol concert at Christmas and therefore saw each other at rehearsal every week. I made effort with her, and none of it was reciprocated, so I have had enough of her - I have no desire to have anything to do with her, and I am pissed off that she is coming over in the only time we have at home tomorrow. I can't face seeing her when I am feeling this shit, as even when we were speaking she always seemed to go out of her way to make me feel like crap, so I will just have to stay upstairs whilst she is here and not give my mum her present or card or cake. I love my mum, despite what they have done to her in turning her against me. I just need to remember there is no point in speaking to her about my feelings as she has been indoctrinated by them.

I can't wait for today or tomorrow or whatever it is to be over. I am confused about days and times. Since it is 4:45 in the morning it is technically tomorrow, but since I haven't slept yet I am still thinking of it as Sunday. Just need to try and get through the day the best that I can, however much I don't want to. I wish so much I didn't have rehearsal and could stay home though. I really am panicking about that. I wish I was feeling better. If anything it still seems to be getting worse, and a week ago I would have said that was impossible. But things just seem to be harder and harder. I really want to die. The thought that they expect me to cope for over a week more by myself before I see anyone is laughable.

Broken

I don't know what to say. I feel broken. Everything feels wrong. The suicidal thoughts are incessant. My concentration is non existent, as is my motivation to do anything. I am constantly exhausted and yet still can't sleep properly. I don't seem to have much appetite at all, which my eating disorder is of course not minding, but it feels a bit wrong. If I have the TV or music on, even quietly, it feels like it is drilling through my head, unless I have a Diazepam first, which helps slightly. When you can't read, watch TV, listen to music, or do anything involving brain power (sometimes I do puzzle books when I can't concentrate to read, but they take more brain power than I have at the moment) I find there really aren't any distraction techniques. I come online but most of the time I seem to just stare at the screen in a daze. And then it gets too much and gives me a headache and I have to log off. I am completely alone as everyone in real life is against me. I am not entirely sure about my dad yet - he may not be, but I am not convinced. My mum is definitely completely on their side, 100%. In fact it is worse than that because she comes up with theories on everything, including me, and then presents them as though they are fact. Apparently it is like being a drug addict who needs more and more drugs, except for me it is support. Which is bollocks. When I was doing better and had weekly appointments with L I didn't have a problem with my level of support. However, when I am feeling how I am now, I do feel I need more support because it is too much to try and deal with alone. Today has been a very difficult day. Very emotional. I suppose this evening/tonight really. The suicidal thoughts have been incredibly strong and I have spent a lot of time either staring at the wall feeling completely numb, or getting upset and finding myself rocking and crying. There has been screaming at my mum for continuing to justify the shitness of mental health services and screaming at my mum because I am just in so much pain. Lots more crying. Desperate. Even now the thoughts of killing myself are incredibly strong. My eyes are stinging from all the crying. I have been very attached to my teddy bear the last two days. This is something that happened once before in a particularly bad patch. I wouldn't leave the house without him. At the moment he is being carried wherever I go, and my arm is around him as I am typing, which isn't convenient, but I suppose he is my security. I have had him since my first Christmas, and he has been virtually everywhere with me - his home has always been on my bed, and he has been on holiday with me, he went to university with me, he went into hospital with me - he has been nearly everywhere I have been. And throughout my life when I have been upset I have come to my room and cried on my bed with him. I am getting increasingly scared of leaving the house. I was trying to remember when I last went anywhere but thinking gives me a headache. I shouldn't have tried. All the days and nights have merged and I am thoroughly confused. On Monday I have to go to ballet and rehearsal and I am already feeling incredibly anxious about it. Not going isn't an option unless I am dead, but the thought of having to go out and be around people and be sociable fills me with dread, and ridiculous as it sounds, I don't want to be without my teddy. It is my mum's birthday on Monday. That means I need to pretend to be ok so I don't ruin the day for her, and I don't think I can do that at the moment. I feel like a shit daughter and that she would be better off without me. Everything feels much too much. I feel like I am going to snap really soon.

Alone

Over the last couple of days I have thought increasingly about telling my mum. This morning I decided that it couldn't make things any worse and that I would. I sent her a text saying that I couldn't cope, and that I had been trying really hard, but that my GP seemed to be the only person taking me seriously. She was out when I sent that, but she rung me and said she would come home but she needed to go food shopping at some point today so should she go whilst she was out already, and I said that was fine. I was quite surprised she didn't ask me what was going on or anything but I thought maybe she wanted to talk about it when she got home. She came home and didn't really say much. She said she had spoken to Dr O, she didn't say what they had talked about, but I know that at some point in the conversation she must have complained about the crisis team saying that they would arrange a psychiatrist appointment, and then just discharging me, and Dr O (who is anti meds) evidently told her that I have BPD, not Depression, so she didn't see what good meds would do, as my mother who had been annoyed all week about me not being seen by the psychiatrist suddenly thought it was completely fine. She also seemed to have no problem with the crisis team suddenly stopping seeing me, which she had previously been annoyed, and didn't seem to see that there was a problem that I was being left with no support for two weeks. Somehow they managed to convert her so that she just agreed with them. My mum used to call up and complain if I wasn't getting enough help - now she is justifying their actions to me. I think they all either think that this is something I am choosing, and that I feel like this because I want to, or they think I am exaggerating the whole thing, or they don't care whether or not I kill myself. I am not sure which, but they have got my mum thinking the same. So I don't even have support from her - she has been indoctrinated to say the same things that the professionals say, and is defending things that yesterday she was annoyed about. I feel like she doesn't care what happens to me. Despite me being incredibly upset, and her knowing that it is incredibly rare for me to be asking for help, she did absolutely nothing apart from calling and speaking to my GP. She didn't even bother calling L, which seems a bit strange given that she is my care coordinator. She clearly wasn't concerned enough to think it worthwhile. And amazingly she didn't even try and take away the tablets I have or anything. Which I am glad about, but it just reinforces the feeling that she doesn't care, as in the past that has always been the first thing she has done. Of course I always have others hidden so it doesn't matter if she does take them, but the fact she didn't even try proves that I am right. I feel like everyone is against me. I don't know what I have done wrong, because I have honestly just told the truth, but there is very clearly something. 'Nobody's Side' has been running through my head all day. My eyes are stinging from how much I have been crying. I feel incredibly alone. I don't trust anyone.

Stop

I think (hope) I might be able to get to sleep earlier tonight. About every 10 days I seem to have a night where I am able to sleep earlier than usual (usual being sometime between 6 and 7am lately) and I am thinking tonight may be that night. Although I have no idea why I am thinking that. Desperation perhaps?? Since it is already 2:30am I suppose the chances are fairly low.

Rehearsal was long - 3 hours. Apparently not knowing my lines was fine - I said I was going to use my book because I wasn't confident enough with my stage directions or cues yet (which is true - we have only done any of the scenes once or twice, and that was the first time running the Act, and even if I had known my lines I would have needed my script for some of the stage directions I have scribbled in etc). Anyway she said that was fine - that when she had said books down for principals she hadn't meant for me or the male lead. Would have been nice if she could have said that at the time, but never mind. As usual I spent the whole time desperate to get home, so the rehearsal running over by half an hour was far from ideal. I felt pretty useless at rehearsal too. I felt like everyone must be wondering why I had been cast, because I know I was.

I have eaten way too much today. I feel disgusting. And it was all late night eating. That is when I am most vulnerable to eating too much. Rehearsal didn't finish until 10:30, and yet I managed to pack plenty of food in between then and about midnight. Hate myself for that.

I am still feeling the same. Feeling increasingly drained and exhausted by it all, and feel like I have less and less fight left in me each day. My head feels all over the place. I can't focus on anything. Still not heard anything from L, so I am now assuming she isn't planning to contact me before I am due to see her next week. I am not sure why. It is my nephew's birthday tomorrow. Birthdays are exciting when you are that age, so I mustn't do anything to ruin it for him, even though I won't be seeing him as my sister still isn't speaking to me. But my mum will be going over there, and I suppose if I was dead then she wouldn't. I had forgotten it was his birthday tomorrow until earlier today, and it was incredibly frustrating as I had kind of been planning to do something tonight, and that made me feel like I couldn't. So I have to keep holding on. I hate it. More than I can put into words. This is not living, and I am not interested in just surviving. I just want it all to stop.

What do you do?

What do you do when it feels like every day you are inching closing and closer to the edge of the cliff? The cliff that you have spent the last two weeks feeling like you are hanging on to by your fingertips in fact, so perhaps it is that you are now losing grip and starting to slide down the side? What do you do? When is it ok to say that you have been actively fighting this for over seven years, and that you just can't do it any more? To give up essentially. Particularly when you don't seem to be able to get much support, and so really you are having to do it on your own. There must be a point when it is considered acceptable to stop fighting. When you have tried hard enough for long enough. When people would understand that you can't keep living for others, and that you have kept going for as long as you can.

I honestly don't know what to do. I feel like I am at that point, but I know others would disagree. And I suppose part of me wonders if with more support, although right now it would need to be quite a lot more, I could keep going. But what is the point? What would it achieve? Another two months or so and I would be back in this position. To me, I have done enough and suicide is a perfectly reasonable option. For the sake of others I am trying to continue to fight, but I cannot do it on my own. So what am I supposed to do? Telling my parents won't help. They know I am not doing too well anyway, but talking about suicide just panics them, and won't change anything. My mum takes away whatever pills she can find, but actually that doesn't change anything. So I don't see talking to them as a helpful option. L knows I feel awful. I could tell her again, but I don't know what difference it would make. And there is nobody else I can turn to. That's it. She is the only person I trust, and she is the only person who could actually do anything. But she already knows. So here I am. Sliding down the cliff, and feeling like any day I am going to lose my grip completely and fall off. Which would be an enormous relief to me, but even in this state I know that it wouldn't to those around me. I do believe that they would be better off without me in the long term, but I know that they wouldn't be able to see that. So what do you do?

Times Like This

Today has been difficult again. My weight was significantly higher than yesterday, which I knew it would be, but it still upset me a lot. When I am already struggling a lot gaining weight can really tip me over the edge. I have been very irritable again today. I have tried to stay as calm as possible, but a tiny comment can just make me snap and scream, and then 20 seconds later I will be ok again. I think it only happened once today - I told my dad I wanted to kill him, but then I calmed down again soon after. My temper does seem quite out of control at the moment though. Things have been ok with my mum. It was actually fine last night - things were normal when we got home but I was still feeling guilty, which was when I wrote last night. The night time was hard. I felt really alone. I ended up going downstairs at 4am and woke the dog up because I wanted a cuddle. He was very obliging, and didn't object to being woken up and cuddled in the middle of the night. Dogs are good like that. And then I came back upstairs but I was feeling really quite desperate. In the end I decided I would go and sleep in my mum's room at about 5am, so I went in there. I said to her that I was sorry for being horrible and she said that she was sorry too. I managed to fall asleep in there, and then woke up at about 9am due to bloody hammering from next door, and so then went back to my bed as it is a bit further away, and went back to sleep again.

The day has felt really long. I am finding it impossible to concentrate on anything or distract myself from my thoughts. Unless there is something I particularly want to watch, which there isn't usually, then I can't have the TV on when I feel like this - it just irritates me. Music is the same - I love music but I can't cope with the noise. Thinking even a day or two into the future sends me into a complete whirl, and trying to think further than that causes full blown panic attacks. The obvious solution is just to not let myself think ahead, but sometimes I can't help it. The more I think about the future, the more I want to die now. I hate that it is the weekend. I hate weekends. I find them really difficult. I think because I am not by myself as much, and I find that draining. We are going to see The King's Speech tomorrow. I have wanted to see it, but I know I won't be able to concentrate properly. I keep finding myself just sitting and staring into space. I keep wondering if I will get through this or not. I don't actually want to.

I might go and see my dog for a cuddle again. I don't think he will mind being woken up.

'A friendly face, the kind of face
That melts you with a grin.
The kind of eyes that welcome you
The minute you walk in.
A tender glance you simply can't refuse
At times like this a girl could use
A dog.

He listens when you tell him things,
There's nothing you can't say
And unlike certain people you can teach him how to stay
And if the world is giving you the blues
He cheers you up by chewing up the news.
It's things like that that make you choose
A dog.

Other people need romance, dancing, playing around.
Other people need constant fun, well I'm not one.
I have my feet on the ground.

Give me a quiet night, a stack of books
A tuna fish on rye.
A simple walk together
Underneath the starry sky.
And suddenly the night is something rare
And all because there's someone special there.
Who's gazing at the views.
His head upon your shoes.
At times like this, I sure could use
A dog'

- Times Like This, Lucky Stiff

Invalidation and anger

Today has been difficult. Last night was difficult too actually. I have been feeling more and more strongly that I don't want to be here. I feel completely alone - I know I have the support of people on here, but that is different to real life support, and actually what I feel like I need at the moment is professional support, and that is what I am not getting. Last night I was actually feeling really tempted to discharge myself from mental health services - sometimes it feels like an appointment for an hour once a fortnight is worse than nothing at all, because when it is helpful I still leave feeling hopeless, because I know it is 2 weeks before I will get that again, and then there isn't time to talk about everything I feel I need to talk about - I found that even with weekly appointments, so fortnightly are even more difficult, and then even when I am really at crisis point I can't get any more support, so it all seems kind of pointless. Fortnightly sessions feel a bit like 'so here's what you could have won!' L has always been very supportive of me, and I know I have been lucky to have her, but I almost feel like she has given up on me or stopped caring or something. Either that or she thinks I am making up these feelings. I am not sure which is worse. But either way I don't feel supported at the moment. So I did consider contacting her and asking to be discharged, but I decided against it. She would probably have suggested we discuss it when I am next due to see her, in a week and a half, and by that time goodness knows how I feel or what position I will be in. I could be dead, or I could have attempted suicide but failed, or I could be feeling differently about things. So I suppose essentially it seemed pointless to ask for discharge now, when I am not even due to see her for a week and a half. I am just really struggling with the lack of support when I am feeling so bad. I suppose I just feel abandoned, and like nobody actually gives a shit whether I kill myself or not, which in a way is a good thing, as it makes me feel less guilty.

This evening was really difficult. A friend of my dad had asked him to go to a quiz a couple of days ago, but they only needed one for their team, so my mum and I couldn't go. My mum was going out with a friend, and asked if I wanted to go with them, but I didn't. Anyway, my dad phoned me at 5:45 and said he had spoken to his friend and there was room for me at the quiz after all, as someone couldn't make it, and that we would need to leave at 6:45. I wasn't actually sure if I wanted to go by that point, as I was anticipating a night here on my own, but I also knew that with how I was feeling that probably wasn't the most sensible option, so I agreed to go. The trouble is, it wasn't giving me nearly long enough to get ready - it was about 6 when I started to get ready, and I had a quick shower but didn't have time to wash my hair, so just straightened it instead. That didn't take too long. Getting dressed is another matter however. I find it incredibly hard to know what to wear if I am going anywhere other than an appointment or rehearsal, in which case I either don't give a shit what I look like, or wear dance type clothes. When I am going anywhere else getting dressed is an incredibly stressful and time consuming process. I put on a skirt, top, and cardigan, then decided the tights were no good, then decided it wasn't the tights that were the problem - it was my huge legs. So off came the skirt and cardigan, and on went skinny jeans and boots and a long cardigan. I decided my legs still looked hideous, and was getting really quite upset and crying by this point. Told my mum I wanted to stay home and that I couldn't get ready. All along my mum had been trying to be helpful, but was actually making matters worse, by saying that I was being ridiculous and my legs looked fine, and that the jeans looked fine, and nobody else would look at me and think my legs looked awful, and that I was making my dad late (which I was), and I ended up yelling at her that I felt hideous and I didn't give a shit what other people would think - I couldn't go out feeling hideous. Was sobbing uncontrollably by this point. Took off the jeans and cardigan and tried on a different skirt, but still didn't feel comfortable, and didn't have a cardigan that would go with it so would have been cold. She kept on and on, and it felt like absolutely everything I said she was just dismissing and invalidating, which is an ongoing theme, and I totally snapped in the end and screamed that she was being really fucking invalidating, to which she replied that she didn't even know what that meant in this context, and so I said that she was just dismissing and ignoring all of my feelings, and she said that was because they were stupid, and I said (when I say I said, I mean I screamed) that they were real to me, and that she was constantly invalidating my thoughts and feelings, and that actually that can be a major contributory factor to BPD. I wished immediately that I hadn't said that, because I never want to make my parents feel bad, or like they are to blame for my problems - partly because I don't think it is fair to blame someone else, and partly because I don't want them to feel guilty, even when I do think they have contributed to how I am now. So I felt like a complete bitch, and was in a complete state, crying hysterically and hyperventilating. I said (cried) that I couldn't go out and I needed to stay home, and had put my comfy jeans on by that point, not with the intention of going anywhere. My mum said I looked nice in my comfy jeans that I had on and that I should go like that. I just couldn't stop crying. My dad came upstairs then and tried to calm me down a bit - he asked what the matter was and I said (cried) that I felt hideous in everything and I had made him late and I couldn't go anywhere, and that it was my mum's fault (unfair I know). He said we weren't too late, and that I looked fine how I was, and I didn't need to dress up or anything and that I needed to just calm down. I think my mum was also quite worked up by this time as she said what I needed was a slap, and at that point I completely lost my temper and screamed that I was going to kill her and my dad had to hold me back from going into her room after her. I don't think that I ever would be really physically violent - I have been known to hit my dad when I have got really angry and worked up, but it is generally when he has intentionally wound me up, which he has a tendency to do it, but I don't get any more violent than that - I have grabbed a knife and said I am going to stab him in the past, but I am certain I would never do anything like that - my anger just gets out of control occasionally and I say things that I don't mean, like I did tonight. I then said that she was a fucking bitch and cried some more. After a minute my temper disappeared and I was just back to being upset. My dad said he really wanted me to go with him and I calmed down a bit, although I was still sobbing, and said goodbye to my mum, and we left. I then sat in the car crying and was talking to myself a bit, but my dad managed to get me to stop. I decided I needed a Diazepam a minute or two after we had left, and looked in my bag, to find that I had grabbed my Zopiclone instead of my Diazepam (and very nearly taken one - they are the same size tablets, and apart from the writing, the blister packs look identical) and so I then had a panic attack and said I had to get out of the car and I would walk home because I needed my Diazepam. A moment more of rooting in my bag produced some Diazepam though, and I took one, and after about 10 minutes had managed to calm down enough that I was just sobbing quietly, and a little while later I started to feel a bit better, and was relatively calm by the time we arrived.

The actual quiz was fine. I only knew my dad's friend on our table, as did he, but the other people all seemed nice. I answered a reasonable number of questions, although not nearly as many as my dad - he is very good at quizzes. Food was an issue. There was a Ploughman's included in the ticket price, so there were baguettes and cheeses on each table, and then the people on our table had brought lots and lots of crisps and nuts and things with them, and when there are things like that out I just can't stop eating, so I ate all evening, and was feeling worse and worse about myself. Then finally there was this chocolate cake thing that someone had brought, and I had a piece of that, and it was incredibly rich (and something has to be really rich for me to say that as I have a very sweet tooth!) and I just couldn't cope, and I ended up going to the toilets and purging. That is the first time I have purged for ages - it has been months since I last did it, but quizzes are a real trigger for me where that is concerned - there are always lots of nibbles around, and I have no self control where things like that are concerned and so just keep eating, and then feel terrible and go and purge as much as I can. It was also at a quiz that I first ever purged, so I guess they are one of the least safe places for me in that respect. I hate myself for the amount I ate, despite purging. And even though it is now 3:30am, and so it was hours ago, I still feel sick from it. I am feeling really shit about that - my weight had been slightly down this morning, and it made it that tiny bit easier to get through the day, and now it is going to be way up and I just can't cope with something else going wrong. So it was a really bloody hard night. Although out of 15 teams we did win the quiz, and so my dad and I came home with a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates.

I am feeling really guilty about the things that I said to, and about, my mum. I feel like a terrible person. When I lose my temper I just seem to lose all control, and when I am very upset and then she says things that upset me more I just snap. My dad does it too, but kind of intentionally - he does wind me up on purpose sometimes. Strangely I don't think he means to upset me - it is like he doesn't realise that what he is doing or saying is really upsetting me or making me angry, despite the fact it happens on a semi-regular basis. I think he just genuinely doesn't realise how his words affect people. I suppose it is just a complete lack of tact, and not thinking before he speaks, and an almost childlike sense of him thinking something is fun, even when the other person quite clearly isn't enjoying it. And so I do get really furious with him. My mum is different. She means well, and she tries to help, but I really do find her very invalidating a lot of the time, and when I am already upset I just can't cope with it. My mum and I bicker a lot, but it is very rare for me to lose my temper with her to the extent that I did tonight. In fact I am not sure that I ever have - I have always had the self control before not to point out that there may be a link between her behaviours and some of my problems, and I lost that tonight, and feel really guilty for doing so, as I know it will have upset her, and that is the last thing I want to do when she does so much for me, and tries so hard to support me. I think I am just feeling so awful at the moment that it really isn't going to take much at all to flip me over the edge in the way that I did tonight. And the worse I feel the more I hate myself, and the more self critical I am, and the more irritable I am, and therefore the more frustrating I am to my parents, so it does tend to be that the lower my mood, the more we argue, which then makes me feel worse and more suicidal, and acts as proof to me that they would be better off without me. I am really not in a good place at the moment, and I don't know what to do. Suicide looks more and more appealing every day.

Tax doesn't have to be taxing??

I am really tired. I didn't get to sleep until late again last night, and then our next door neighbours are having work done on their kitchen, and so there has been drilling and banging all day, and even though their kitchen is the other side of the house, somehow it disturbed me and stopped me sleeping. It is strange because it is so quiet, but it just kept me awake. So I didn't get enough sleep, and what I did get was very disrupted, so I am exhausted and feel like shit.

I have to go to a rehearsal tonight - again the last thing I feel like doing. I also only have a few days to sort hundreds of invoices and receipts into date order for my dad's tax return. At the moment my eyes are so blurry I don't think I could even make out the dates, and I will keep getting hassle from my parents until I do it. And then when they are in date order I have to help him enter them onto a spreadsheet. I could really do without all this at the moment. Unfortunately a couple of years ago I made a deal that I would do the accounts for him in return for them paying my mobile bill. I  now think that was a shit idea. For a start I am crap with money. I thought we had until April to do the taxes because that is when the tax year starts. Who knew it had to be done in January? Well, seemingly everyone apart from me, but that means I have now been left with the stress of having to get it all done in a few days. Tax doesn't have to be taxing? Bollocks!

I have this assessment appointment tomorrow. Don't really know what to think about it. It is only an assessment so it isn't going to change anything. I am feeling really exhausted and hopeless. My mum will be home from work soon. I should go downstairs and pretend I am filing these stupid bloody invoices, or I will get a bollocking when she arrives. Yesterday she said I was the most frustrating person imaginable because I was lying in bed in the dark in the afternoon. She clearly doesn't have a very good imagination.

Decision

So I suppose today has been vaguely productive, even if I have felt shit. I showered. It is so weird the way you don't realise how disgusting you smell until you are clean. It's lucky I hadn't left the house since Monday. Something as simple as showering really shouldn't take so much effort and feel so difficult. People do it every day. I do it every day when I don't feel like this. I never find it difficult. Then full blown depression hits, and it suddenly seems like a completely pointless, and rather strange thing to do. So what if you stink and look like shit? It involves being out of bed for more than 5 minutes, and therefore absolutely is not worth the effort. In the end my mum tells me how revolting I am and makes me shower, and I then realise that I am indeed revolting, but still don't actually care. So anyway, I showered and washed my hair. I am sure that I must deserve a medal of some kind - I managed to do something that the rest of the population do daily without even thinking about. What an achievement.

I also had rehearsal. I managed to make myself rushed and slightly late by getting up too late, which was because it was 7:30am before I got to sleep, so I fairly naturally then didn't want to get up. I then spent half an hour persuading myself to get out of bed, then spent over an hour showering, throwing on the clothes from the top of the pile, and drying my hair for 3 minutes. Oh, and cleaning my teeth. I seem to do everything in slow motion at the moment - I am still trying to work out how those things took over an hour. I didn't spend time wondering what to wear - I just threw on some dance trousers and a top and cardigan that were conveniently at the top of the pile because they were what I wore last time I left the house. The cast probably think I only own one set of clothes.

Went to rehearsal. It wasn't quite as painful as last week, but I think only because I was there for an hour less. I still spent the whole time wanting to go home. Felt useless because I hadn't warmed up my voice properly (ie I had sung for about 5 minutes in the car on the way there) because I just couldn't be bothered, and so I sounded like shit. Typically the director wanted to listen to me sing my biggest solo for the first time. Never mind. Sung a bit more, pranced around a bit, said a few lines, had a few kisses, came home. I think I must have been functioning on auto pilot, and at least partially dissociating, because there are big chunks I don't remember, and one time I remember starting the number, and then realising we had finished, but not being aware of anything in the middle. My concentration is all over the place. I have to go to another rehearsal tomorrow night, after ballet. That is a full cast rehearsal, whereas today was just me, the male lead, the director/choreographer, and the musical director, so I need to try and be a bit more focused tomorrow or I will probably end up looking like a complete idiot. Again, I don't want to go, but it would fuck up the entire rehearsal if I wasn't there, so I don't have a choice.

I made a decision today. That sounds a bit monumental doesn't it? And it isn't, or not really anyway, given that I quite frequently change my mind. But I realised I have been a bit hypocritical lately, because I have been planning to kill myself, but allowing myself to forget something I have said to friends when they have been feeling suicidal. That I think suicide can be a valid option once you have tried all other options that are realistically open to you at that time, but not before then. On Thursday I have an assessment appointment with a Clinical Psychologist whom I have never met before. I have no idea if she would be able to help me, and to be honest at the moment I still feel like I would rather be dead regardless of whether I might start to feel better at some point, but it is something that is currently an option I haven't explored, and I think I would be very hypocritical if I were to ignore that, so I decided that however bad I feel I must at least keep going until then. Deciding not to kill myself within the next four days probably doesn't really sound like a very big deal, but it feels like it to me, because I am just feeling so terrible. So I need to really focus on getting through the next four days. After that I have no idea what will happen - I am not going to commit to anything further ahead than that, because that would feel impossible right now, but at least I am making the effort to go to the appointment and meet her etc. So I just have to get through tomorrow, when I will probably sleep the majority of the day, then have to go to dreaded ballet and rehearsal in the evening, then Tuesday I am seeing L, but I am not sure what I can do after that. My mum has a hospital appointment, but I find hospitals kind of triggering at the moment - they make me want to kill myself even more than I do usually. I suppose association of ideas. Anyway, then Wednesday will maybe be another sleeping day, and then I will have to go to another rehearsal. And then it will be Thursday and I will see the Psychologist. And that is as far as I am going to think or plan, because it gets too overwhelming after that. It all feels quite scary and difficult - even just thinking about being alive in four days time is hard, and I really wish I could get out of rehearsals and things, but realistically I can't without getting a lot of very awkward questions and inconveniencing a lot of people, and even if I could it wouldn't help really, because it is my head I need a break from, and I can't get that any more at home than I can out - it is just easier being at home because I don't have to hide behind a facade all of the time. I still desperately want out. I am exhausted. But I will stick to what I believe and at least go to the appointment on Thursday. Obviously I know nothing will change then, and that she won't be able to magic me better. But at least I will be going and meeting her, and getting an impression of what she is like. If I still want to kill myself after that then I think it is pretty much fair game - no big dates coming up for a few weeks, not too close to the show that I can't be replaced, no particular reason stopping me that I can think of. But I won't make a decision before Thursday, or I will try not to. I can't not see suicide as an option, because it is basically, but I am seeing it as an option I can explore after Thursday if I want to, not before. That's not something I can do long term, or keep doing time after time for various reasons, but I think I can do it for the next few days. I suspect this entire paragraph would make no sense to anyone but me, but I understand how my mind works. Or I do some of the time. Sometimes I find it utterly baffling.

Dying with clean hair

I stayed home tonight. I decided I just couldn't face going out. My mum was slightly unhelpful as I said that I was thinking of saying I was ill and couldn't go, and she said I couldn't do that because I wasn't actually ill, 'only in the head'. That helped. But I decided to ignore that. I didn't have to make an excuse for ballet, as my teacher knows that I generally won't be there on Wednesdays because of show rehearsals, so that just left the rehearsal. I sent a text to the director saying that I wasn't feeling well and so wouldn't be going to ballet, but that I would go to the rehearsal if she needed me, but that I obviously wasn't feeling great, and she replied saying not to worry. That meant that I felt ok about missing rehearsal, as I had offered to go if required, but said that I wasn't feeling well, which was pretty much the truth, and I was just hoping that she would reply in the way she did.

I am feeling shit about my weight. I gained a little this week, which I always find really difficult. Because I am feeling so terrible I am finding myself comfort eating, which is fine at the time, but not remotely comforting afterwards, as I feel extremely guilty, and then of course when I weigh myself I gain weight and feel shit about myself, which makes me feel even worse, and so the cycle goes ok. It is strange, when my depression gets really bad I either lose interest in food altogether and just don't get hungry at all, or I just want to comfort eat. Not out of hunger I suppose - I just feel like I have to do something to make me feel better, and eating cake seems like a good idea at the time. There is also a part of my brain that tells me I may as well eat what I like, as I will be dead soon, and it doesn't matter what I weigh then, whilst another part of me tells me that I must lose weight, as I can't die fat. I am assume that is somehow linked to the part of me that tells me I can't die with dirty hair.... I have no idea what that is about, but even if I am really depressed, to the point where I am really struggling to move, I have to wash my hair if I am planning to kill myself that day. You would think that would be about the least relevant thing possible, but for some reason it seems important, and I suppose dying thin is somehow related to that.

My sleep is still terrible. I seem to be permanently exhausted, and yet unable to sleep until at least 6am, regardless of what I have been doing that day, what time I woke up, and how much sleep I got the night before.

I am really finding everything very overwhelming. I am feeling so low, and then when that is combined with my dreadful sleep, and my complete inability to concentrate on anything, it makes the days feel incredibly long, and very difficult to get through. I have tried to think of reasons to live, things to keep going for, but I can't think of anything for myself. There is always the thing of not hurting others, but there is surely a limit to how many years you can be expected to go on feeling cripplingly low for the sake of other people? And I cannot think of a single reason to live for myself. Sometimes when I am feeling really bad I am able to cope by setting myself days, for example when I have an appointment or something - I suppose the hope that talking to someone might change things or help in some way helps me to get through, but I don't even have that at the moment. I am due to see L next Tuesday, but I can't see it as something to aim for, because I know it won't change anything. There is literally nothing that I can use as a motivator to keep going. I feel terrible.

Too much

My hopes that the rehearsal tomorrow wouldn't happen have not come to fruition unfortunately. I have to spend two and a half hours tomorrow afternoon rehearsing. I would do almost anything to get out of going, but I can't. I am really feeling like I can't face things at the moment. Not tomorrow in particular, just generally. Obviously tomorrow I have this rehearsal. Monday I have a ballet class and another rehearsal. Tuesday I am supposed to be meeting a friend in London, which I could cancel, but I had to cancel on her last time we were due to meet, and I also have been in need of some new pointe shoes for ages, so I have to go to London at some point, but keep putting it off due to stress. So I am undecided about that as yet. Wednesday I have another rehearsal. Thursday I have another rehearsal. I just can't face it all - it is too much.

The suicidal thoughts are really strong. Everything feels like too much, and I just can't cope with it, and that seems like the way out. In fact, it feels like the only way out. I have had enough. I have been struggling with all of this for seven and a half years now, or at least that was when I first sought help for it, which may not be that long by some people's standards, but it is nearly a third of my life, and has been all of my adult life. Perhaps if I believed that things could change, or that it would get easier, then I would find the ability to keep fighting and get through it, but I see absolutely no indication that I am likely to feel any different in the foreseeable future, and even if I did, I don't feel like it would be worth the pain that I have to go through every day at the moment. Nothing could be worth that.

My nephew and niece are staying the night tonight. Children are so loud. They are nice children, but I can't cope with being around them for too long - it is just too much. Everything is too much at the moment though. Not getting enough sleep isn't helping matters, but the worse I feel, the later I get to sleep, and I don't know how to break that cycle. I have felt like a complete zombie today - I find that if I take Zopiclone and then don't get enough sleep then I feel like utter shit the next day. I am debating whether or not to take it tonight - if it makes me sleep that would be really helpful, since I can't sleep for half the afternoon because of having to go to the rehearsal, but on the other hand if I take it and then am still awake at 6am, then that will make me feel even worse tomorrow. I wish so much that I didn't have to go anywhere - I was really getting my hopes up, but no such luck. I can't keep going like this.

How can you explain it?

Sleep still isn't impressive. Last night, or rather this morning, or I suppose technically speaking yesterday morning, I finally got to sleep at about 7:30am. It is now 5am, and I have had 10mg Diazepam and 7.5mg Zopiclone and I am not feeling remotely sleepy. I am not sure what to do. I know that it is because of my mood, and if I started to feel better then my sleep would improve, but I also know it is a vicious cycle, and sleeping in this pattern, and not getting enough sleep generally is going to make my mood even worse. I have absolutely no idea how to break the pattern though - the time I get up and what I do during the day don't seem to impact on the time I am able to sleep when I am feeling like this. Medication doesn't seem to be helping. I suppose I will just have to put up with it.

My parents both knew what time I got to sleep last night, as I was still awake when they got up, so my mum didn't wake me up like she often does. I still didn't sleep terribly well, or get as much sleep as I would have liked really. My dad said to me this evening that I had massive black circles under my eyes and looked really rough. I said that I was tired, and he said why don't I sleep at night then. I said that I am not sleepy. I am tired, but not sleepy. He asked why and I said I didn't know. He asked why I was feeling bad and I said I didn't know. He asked if I was thinking any bad, silly thoughts (his phrase) and I laughed. He does occasionally try to talk to me about how I am feeling, but he can never ask if I am having thoughts about suicide, or even self harm - he will say things like bad thoughts, or silly thoughts, or evil thoughts. Not evil as in thinking I was evil for having them, he just seems to think that the suicidal thoughts are evil, which they are I suppose, for making me feel so bad. I said I was just tired. How can you explain to someone that you don't remember the last day when you didn't think what they consider to be evil thoughts? That you don't remember the last time that given the choice you would pick life over death. That you have thoughts of wishing bad things would happen to the people who care about you so that you can kill yourself without upsetting people. Those are what I consider evil thoughts. I hate myself for thinking them. But I am that desperate to die. How are you supposed to explain that?

Overall my mood is really quite low. I have absolutely no motivation to do anything. It takes real effort to get out of bed to go to the toilet or something. My personal hygiene has become non existent. It is now the early hours of Saturday, and I haven't showered since Sunday. Whilst I can appreciate that is disgusting, it just seems like a much bigger thing than I am capable of doing. I am absolutely dreading this rehearsal on Sunday. I am desperately hoping it won't happen, as I am yet to hear about a time and venue for it, but I am fairly sure that unfortunately it will happen. I don't know how I will manage that. I suppose I will just have to turn up and hope for the best. The only good thing about it is that it isn't a full cast rehearsal - it is just the male lead and I, and then the director/choreographer and the musical director. So hopefully I won't have to make too much small talk. I am just really desperately hoping they decide not to rehearse Sunday after all. I am going to try and shower tomorrow. Well, today actually since it is 5:20am. I feel like such a mess. Is this living? Feeling terrible, wanting to die, unable to do anything, not wanting to talk to people, not wanting to see people, not caring about anything, not enjoying anything, having no motivation, not looking forward to anything, losing your ambitions and hopes and the things that mattered to you. I wonder if people would be so anti suicide if they had experienced feeling like that. Although obviously of course I hope very strongly that my friends who have mental health problems are able to keep going, I do understand that sometimes the pain of trying to live like that, with no pleasure or interest in anything, and constant thoughts of suicide wearing them down, means that people just can't keep going anymore, and I don't judge that. I can't judge that - I have attempted suicide twice in the past, so it would be hypocritical to judge others for doing the same but succeeding.

I had had another Zopiclone when I started writing this, so I am hoping that 2 Diazepam and 2 Zopiclone will be enough to send me off to sleep - let's give it a go. Shame it is already 5:30, but I took the Diazepam about three ago hours ago, and the Zopiclone two hours ago, so it isn't like I didn't try to sleep earlier. Let's hope it all works and I am not still awake in two hours time. I think it has to - surely my body can't withstand 20mg Diazepam and 15mg Zopiclone?!

'I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living.
So different now from what it seemed.
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.'
- I Dreamed a Dream, Les Miserables

Bad sleep

My sleep is all over the bloody place. I am writing this at 6am, wide awake and yet exhausted. Oxymoron? Seems to happen a lot. Last night I think I got to sleep about 6:45am, or I suppose technically I should say this morning I think I got to sleep about 6:45am. Without fail the worse I feel the later I get to sleep. It doesn't matter what time I have woken up, or what I have done that day - my body just seems to break a bit. Not that I am pretending my sleep is ever good, but there is a definite correlation between my mood and the time I get to sleep. It is now 6:40. I really should be asleep, but I am still very awake. I took 10mg Diazepam about an hour ago to try and help my head slow down a bit to let me sleep, but it doesn't seem to have had any impact unfortunately. I didn't take any Zopiclone, because by the time I had realised I wasn't going to get to sleep, it was later than I like to take it - I only take it if I have 10 hours before I have to be awake, as otherwise I feel like a zombie the next day, and unfortunately my mum has fridays off work, and so will be at home, and will wake me up at some point. Not early, but I won't be able to sleep half the afternoon like I do sometimes. I suppose in theory that is a good thing, but I don't know what I am waking up for. Another day that I don't want.

'At the end of the day you're another day older
And that's all you can say for the life of the poor
It's a struggle, it's a war
And there's nothing that anyone's giving
One more day standing about, what is it for?
One day less to be living'

Ok, poverty isn't really an issue for me, but the rest feels appropriate. Good old Les Miserables - a lyric for every occasion. Except happy ones. It isn't called The Glums for nothing. Luckily that isn't a problem for me as I rarely have anything happy to express. It is now 6:50. Parents will be awake in a minute. I will get told off for still being awake. Never mind.

The mask is slipping

It is 4:30am and I am not even a little bit sleepy. My sleep seems to be getting worse and worse. This always happens - the worse I feel, the worse my sleep gets, and then I end up exhausted and feeling worse. It has been a difficult day. I have been feeling really low. Low is a ridiculous word to describe it - it doesn't even begin to express how I have been feeling. No words do. So for now I will use low, because there is nothing else. I have reached a point that only happens very occasionally, even when I am feeling really terrible, where I just can't pretend to be ok. Usually, even if I am feeling desperately suicidal and depressed, I can still keep up my facade, providing I don't have to spend too much time around people. But I can't do it at all at the moment. The mask is slipping. My parents both commented - according to my mum I looked peaky and they both asked what was wrong. But I didn't know. I don't know. I have absolutely no idea what is wrong. I just feel terrible, and I have no reason for it. So I just shrugged and tried not to cry. I thought I was going to be able to get out of going to ballet, as my mum had to go over to rescue my dad, who was at the flat he owns that is supposed to be let out but got flooded in the summer, and is just being repaired now, as he had somehow managed to lock himself out of his car with the keys on the inside, so she had to take the spare set over. I hoped this meant we wouldn't have time to have dinner and still leave for ballet on time, and I said to my mum maybe I shouldn't go, but she said she thought I should. Then later on, after dinner, I was feeling worse and worse - it was at this point that I was downstairs with my parents, and I came upstairs to get ready, but really didn't want to go, and ended up getting a bit upset and crying a bit, and went downstairs and said I wanted to stay at home and that I didn't want to go to ballet, but for some reason my mum had decided I really should go - I think she thinks that going out when I am feeling bad helps me - and so sent me back upstairs to get ready. I was really choking back the tears by this point - I felt awful, and I just did not want to leave the house. Then I got there, and nobody else from my class had turned up - I think there is a lot of illness around, and then some people have exams at the moment, and one girl had an audition, so I was the only person. The Wednesday class is always smaller - there are usually six or seven of us, but I was the only one. So I had to do the whole class on my own. It did at least mean I didn't have to make any small talk, but it also meant that I got lots of 'smile!' and 'use your eyes!' and 'perform it!' comments, which I just couldn't do today. I am so relieved that my rehearsal tomorrow has been cancelled. I absolutely cannot face leaving the house again any time soon. Now that is cancelled I don't have any committments until the rehearsal on Sunday, which I don't want to go to, but I am not even letting myself think that far ahead at the moment as it is too overwhelming - I am trying to just take things a day at a time. Or an hour.

I am thinking about emailing L, but I don't really know why. I don't know what I would say - I can't really send her an email saying 'Hi, just thought I would let you know I am feeling a bit down, which of course you already know' and I have nothing else to say. I can't express this. And even if I could, there is nothing she could do, so it would be pointless anyway. I suppose I just wish there was something. I am feeling really desperate, and I don't know what to do with those feelings, and it is really difficult knowing that there is nothing anyone can do to help, or to make them go away. I suppose the other reason I have been thinking about contacting her is because I have been under mental health services for so many years, and always been told to contact someone if you are having suicidal thoughts, and so when I feel like this it feels like I should be contacting her. But there is absolutely nothing she can do, and so I don't know if it would just make me feel worse - I suppose at least at the moment I can kid myself that I have an option there if I need it. When you have run out of options it is even worse. Although I know in reality that I am essentially out of options in that sense - nobody can take the thoughts away, or make them easier to cope with. I don't know. I just feel a mess.