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.

Childhood Part 3

From the time when my dad moved out when I was 12, things continued in the same way for quite a few years. He would come over some evenings. He would come on holiday with us, and stay for a while over Christmas. At some point he started spending the weekends here. Then there would be times when I wouldn't see him for a couple of months because of my mum or I getting upset about it all and cutting contact with him. Neither he, nor my mother, were seeing anyone else. It was a fairly strange relationship, as it was so uneven. My mum desperately wanted him back, and so everything was on his terms. He came over when he wanted, but if he wanted to do something else instead then he would, and my mum would get upset, which would generally lead to a period of her not wanting to see him. If she didn't want to see him then I generally didn't see him either. I hated going to his flat - I only did it a handful of times over a period of about 6 years. I didn't like seeing that he had his own life away from us, and I didn't feel comfortable there. So generally either he came here, or I didn't see him.

At 16 I finished school and went of to 6th Form College to do A levels. It was a relief to leave H and co. behind - I don't think I have seen anyone from my year group since I left school over 8 years ago, apart from briefly bumping into a couple of people, including her. Maybe she is a nicer person now. I hope so. I did ok in my GCSEs, but didn't get the results I should have got, because I did no revision. That is something of a pattern for me. I think my fear of failure is so intense that I take it the opposite way and work on the premise that if I haven't tried then it doesn't matter if I have failed or done badly, whereas if I worked really hard and still didn't do as well as I should then I would have no excuse - I would just be a failure.

Anyway, 6th Form College was a much better experience than school in many ways. It was literally 10 times the size in terms of student population, and obviously they were all aged 16 - 19, rather than 4 - 16 like my school had been, so there were rather more people in a year group at college - about 50 times more.... C was going to the same 6th Form, and I also knew a couple of other people, through performing, who were going there, but that was it. Oh, and a guy from my school, but I rarely saw him. In theory everything should have improved for me in college. I had friends, and obviously I was studying the subjects I wanted to etc. And in some ways it was great. I had some really good teachers, one of whom I am still in contact with now - he came to see me in Carousel. The main problem with it was that I didn't want to be there. In the summer between finishing school and starting 6th Form, I had done a 2 week Musical Theatre summer course at one of the drama schools in London, and absolutely loved it, and therefore resented going off to study academic subjects when I wanted to be doing performing. I wished I was doing a Musical Theatre BTEC rather than A levels, so that I could be doing what I wanted to do. In retrospect I am glad I did A levels, and I don't think my parents would have let me not do them anyway, but it resulted in once again my attendance being pretty poor, because I couldn't be bothered with it, and so that, combined with not doing any work that didn't absolutely have to be done, and not doing any revision at all, meant that I finished my first year with pretty poor results. I didn't dislike college - as I have said, I had friends there, I enjoyed some of my lessons. I was very fortunate in that the Head of Music/Performing Arts seemed to think the sun shone from my arse, and so I got quite a few opportunities in that area. I was in the college choir, and got all the solos - I sung the Once In Royal solo 3 years running at the carol service (yes, I stayed 3 years - more on that later), as well as various other solos. I was always asked to perform in all of the concerts, and to record songs for the music tech students etc. In my 3rd year they did Les Miserables, and I pretty much got to choose my role, although that was actually a new member of staff directing that who had never taught me. We had a couple of auditions, and then were waiting ages for them to decide casting, and one day I asked if they had cast it yet, because I said I wanted to include it in my UCAS personal statement, and wanted to be able to say what part I was playing (oh the arrogance!) and got the reply, 'well we haven't finished casting yet, but I am assuming you would like Eponine as you sung On My Own in your audition?' I said I would please, and that was that settled. College gave me a confidence in my abilities that school never had - in college there were 2000 people, all of my age, and yet I was the one who got the solos and the leads, and who the staff knew, even if they didn't teach me. At school there was a lot of nepotism going on with casting, and so I never got leads, despite being the only person who regularly performed out of school (and regularly was cast in leads there). So college was good for making me realise I must be better than school had lead me to believe. My first year of college was fairly uneventful. I went to lessons some of the time, stayed home some of the time, did some of the work, didn't do some of the work. I was still doing dance and singing lessons outside of college, and some shows, although I had started doing less by that time.

I had just started my second year of college, and so was just 17 when the next thing happened in my home life. My mum picked me up from the bus one day and was very upset - she had received an anonymous text message saying that my dad had been seeing someone for a year and that she should divorce him. It turned out that it was true - we never did know for sure who sent it, although the assumption was that his girlfriend (another 25 year old who worked for him) had got the number off his phone and sent it, although she denied it. Whilst he wasn't living at home, and it was now 5 years since he had moved out, he hadn't seen anyone in that time to our knowledge, apart from the initial affair, and had generally spent quite a lot of time at our house and with us. Of course in retrospect we realised that for the last year he hadn't been spending weekends with us like he had been before that, and that he had been coming over less often, but since everything always had been on his terms anyway, we hadn't really questioned it before. I was very upset - not that he was seeing someone, but that he had been lying to us for over a year. It really hurt me a lot, and I think made me lose a lot of trust in not only him, but people generally. I still can't comprehend how and why he would lie like that for so long - it wasn't like he was living here - they were separated, and had been for quite a few years. My mum was absolutely devastated. As I said, she always wanted to be with him, and this news was just too much for her. She refused to tell anyone - she wouldn't even tell her friends or my siblings initially. She kept saying how ashamed she felt and how stupid she was for not knowing, and how if people knew they would laugh at her and think she was stupid. I think that for her too it was more about the secrecy, and not knowing than it was him seeing someone else, although obviously that hurt her too. Yet again, he broke up with her once we had found out. So we were back to keeping secrets (although we had never actually stopped) but this time it was just the two of us, as there were no siblings or friends or counsellors involved this time. And it really was role reversal - she was so upset, and had absolutely nobody to talk to apart from me, and so I listened to it all. Obviously I was older by this point, but she was really leaning on me quite heavily, and I couldn't rely on her at all emotionally. And I started to crumble. Not in front of her. I didn't let her know how much I was struggling. But I was struggling more and more. My mood was low and I started purging frequently.

I had a really great teacher at college who I started talking to. She was really supportive, and for a while I talked to her every week. I suppose really she was the first person I ever talked to about anything emotional at all - I had just never talked about feelings before to anyone. She was really helpful - without her I don't know if I would have gone on to get other help. She listened, and she got me information and a self help book for bulimia. She was also the one who encouraged me to go to my GP to get help (who gave me anti depressants and referred me to the CMHT), and also to see the college counsellor in the meantime. I was very attached to her. I think my issues with attachment can be attributed in some ways to my relationship with my parents, although as I said before, even when I was very young I was very possessive with friends, so perhaps it has always been in my nature. But it was after my dad left when I was 12 that I started getting really attached to people. Never men - it has always been women, who I suppose I see as maternal figures, who I have become attached to. I feel like it should be men, since it was my dad who left and wasn't there for me, but I suppose emotionally I wasn't getting what I needed from my mum, and therefore begun to look for it elsewhere. There have been a number of people I have grown very attached to - wanting to be around them all the time, and for them to care about me and look after me, and I suppose essentially to parent me. It is weird because my mum and I have always been very close, and yet I have always had these fantasies of whoever it is I am attached to at the time (only ever one at a time) taking me home to live with them. But I suppose it is due to my mum not being there for me emotionally when I needed her, because she was struggling so much herself. Maybe that is why even now I find it very difficult to talk to her about how I am feeling. I think I can also attribute my eating problems to my parents to some extent. My parents have very different relationships with food. My mum is tiny, but eats a lot of food, a lot of which is crap, and by rights should be enormous. She rarely weighs herself, and doesn't understand why I don't just eat what she does - she can't seem to comprehend that her metabolism is not normal. My dad is much more careful about what he eats - he is a healthy weight, but he weighs himself daily, and hates it if his weight goes up, and will cut out unhealthier foods until it goes back to where he wants it to be. As a teenager he used to frequently comment on my weight, and suggest that I should try to lose weight, frequently citing my career choice as the reason why I needed to be smaller. He doesn't do that any more, probably because I haven't been as big as I was as a teenager, although even then we were still talking healthy BMI range, just nearer the higher end of it. But he does still ask me how my weight is, and will make comments about what I am eating sometimes. As a family they (we?) are very sizeist - I have grown up with negative comments about overweight people etc, so I think that, along with comments about my own weight, coupled with a desperate need to feel in control of something when my life felt so out of control, was really fairly likely to lead to an eating disorder.

Despite my mental health problems, my second year of college was better than my first year in many ways. I think primarily because I felt safe there - it filled the same space for as rehearsals had when I was younger and my dad first left - it was somewhere to escape to. I suppose in a large part because college contained the only person I really trusted to talk to - at this point I had been referred to the CMHT, and at some point during the year had an assessment there, and was then on the waiting list for the rest of that year. My attendance was better, and although I was having problems concentrating, I actually did better than I had in my first year, although still not nearly as well as I should have. And then my second year came to an end, I had A Levels, and I didn't have a clue what to do next. I was terrified of leaving college, because that was where my only support was. I had no plans to go on to university or anything. And in the end I just couldn't face leaving. So I stayed on an extra year. I retook the first year of English Lit, because I had got 2 grades higher for my second year than I got in my first year, and then I took both the first and second year of Sociology at the same time, so that I got an A level in a year. I also worked part time at the college, as a Learning Support Assistant. Just before my third year started, I started seeing a Clinical Psychologist at the CMHT, primarily for help with my eating disorder, although during the year my mood got worse and worse, until I attempted suicide at the end of the year. This academic year was 2004/2005, and so was 6 years after my dad had first moved out, in 1998, and 1 or 2 years after we found out he had been seeing someone again, in 2003. During this time he had started spending more and more time back at home - staying there more often, and by some point in 2005 he was more or less living back at home, although he still kept his flat, and spent occasional nights there. But he was back home. The perfect fairytale ending right? And they all lived happily ever after....

I do not by any means think that my problems now are caused by my parents splitting up. As I said before, I don't think things were quite right when I was even younger than that. But I do think it probably exacerbated matters. I find it really difficult to admit that my parents splitting up could have even contributed slightly to me having mental health problems now. What is the statistic - half of all marriages end in divorce or something like that? And people go through much worse and don't end up with a slew of psychiatric diagnoses, which makes me think that either I must be really pathetic, other people must be really strong, or my problems come from absolutely nowhere, and it is absolutely nothing to do with my parents. I flit from one view to another depending on my mood. But I can see that L had a point when she said how difficult it must have been having to keep it all a secret, and having to try and contain my emotions to avoid upsetting my mum. That was difficult, and probably isn't a typical experience of parents' splitting up, although of course I don't know for sure. I almost feel guilty for having mental health problems when I have been through so little in comparison to other people. Ok, my parents split up, but so what? That is hardly uncommon. And apart from that I had a good childhood. I got to do whatever activities I wanted, I had a good education, I was loved and looked after. I certainly was never abused in any way, or neglected, or anything else terrible. Nothing bad happened to me. And yet here I am, at age 24, with 7 years in the mental health system, multiple suicide attempts, multiple admissions, numerous CPNs and Psychiatrists and other professionals, medications, etc etc. I feel ashamed of myself for being so weak. For having these problems, when others go through so much worse and yet cope so much better. I really do feel guilty when I think about it. I don't understand why I am in the position I am in, when there has been nothing serious in my life to cause me to feel like this. I can see that my teenage years weren't perfect, but they were not bad enough to lead to this. So what is wrong with me? I have absolutely no idea.

Childhood Part 1

So, my childhood. I didn't talk about all of this with L, but I decided I wanted to write about all of it, to put it into context. My childhood memories are fairly sketchy. I only remember odd bits here and there. I have no memories from when I was very young, and really very few before the age of about 10. And even after that, I know certain situations happened etc, but I don't remember how I felt about them or anything. So a lot of it is quite hazy.

I always think of myself as having a happy childhood, and I think it was overall, and certainly was compared to the experiences of many others, which means I am always reluctant to criticise it in any way. But there were downsides. For a start, I never fitted in. From as far back as I can remember I just didn't fit in with most other children. I was more comfortable with adult company, which is probably unsurprising, given that I have 3 older siblings, and the closest of those to me in age is 12 years older than me. So I was used to being around adults the majority of the time. When I was young, and I am thinking back from when I was very young up to about the age of 11 or so, I was probably what Lexie would refer to as a 'pretend child'. I spent hours and hours sitting reading. I would wander around stately homes and gardens with my parents. I was always beautifully dressed. Overall I was pretty well behaved. Which is lucky really, because punishing me generally consisted of sending me to my room, where I would become engrossed in a book, and when told I could go back downstairs reply that I was ok in my bedroom reading thank you. I went to dance classes, and was a Brownie, and had riding lessons. I did well at school. I was intelligent. I had a reading age far higher than my actual age. I got all my spellings right. I think I was generally fairly amenable, although my parents may say otherwise of course... I got on well with my parents. I got on well with my siblings. My sister (yes, the one who now hates me) absolutely doted on me as a young child. So in that sense I was a good child, with a happy childhood.

The less positive things were that as I mentioned, I never really fitted in with my peers - probably because of being a pretend child. I had a best friend (whom I will refer to as C for this post), who I met when I was 4, who lived just down the road from me, and we were at school together until I moved school after a couple of years. I was very possessive over her. I wanted her to play with me the whole time. I wasn't interested in playing with any of the other children - she was my best friend, and she was the only person I wanted to play with. I don't remember it, but I apparently used to come home from school incredibly upset if she had been playing with other people instead of me. Early attachment issues, or is that too psychoanalytical? There was another girl at that school (who will be referred to as H for this post) whose mother used to look after me after school when my mother was working, and when I switched schools, she also switched half a term later. She was a very strong character. A bully essentially. Again, I don't remember it, but apparently sometimes when I would go there after school she would lock me in her bedroom and leave me in there and not let me out. Sometimes she would be nice to me. Other times she wouldn't. When I moved school at 7, I left C behind, although I still saw her a lot, and whilst I got on fine with the children at my new school, again, I didn't really fit in. I wasn't 'cool' in any way. I was certainly not one of the popular girls. I would try and tag onto some of the other less popular girls, but I remember often finding myself alone. I was also ill a lot - I had a lot of problems with my ears - constant ear infections, multiple burst eardrums, various other infections. I spent an awful lot of my childhood on antibiotics. My mum generally used to still send me into school when I was ill, as she worked there, and I was too young to stay home alone, so I either went to lessons, or if I was really ill I went to the sick bay. I didn't enjoy school though. From a fairly young age I remember exaggerating how ill I felt to try and get out of going to class. I remember pushing near the bottom of my neck to make me retch so that my mum would think I was sick. I am not sure why I didn't want to go to school, as it wasn't like I struggled with the work or anything, and it was a nice school. I just didn't want to go.

I have also had issues with food my entire life. Not an eating disorder, but I have always been an incredibly fussy eater, to the point where it has interfered with my life. In some ways I am slightly better now with that, but overall the foods I will eat now aren't very different to those I would eat as a child. When I was inpatient on an eating disorder programme they said I had always had disordered eating because of how fussy I was. I don't know whether or not this is true, or what is behind it, or if it contributed to my eating disorder in later life, but there have certainly always been issues surrounding food. I was always very attached to my mum. I suppose most children are, but I didn't like her being out or away from me. I would stay the night with friends, but I remember getting into a terrible state when I went on Brownie camp once. I absolutely hated it. I was horribly home sick, I had issues with most of the food, and I just wanted to be at home. The whole time felt like torture, and all the other children were having a great time. Obviously none of these things were major problems. Ok, I didn't really fit in with my peers and was teased a bit, but most kids are. And I was happy at home as far as I can remember.

Up to this point I would consider myself to have had a happy childhood. Although if I look back on it I can see signs that maybe things weren't quite right even that early on, ie up to the age of 11. But I don't know if that is just going into the realms of navel gazing. But things like being very attached to certain people, and feigning or exaggerating illness to avoid school, when actually there was no reason to not want to go that I can see do strike me as not being quite right. I also always had a need to please people - generally adults rather than peers. But there have always been issues with relationships I suppose. And of course issues with food. There was no reason for me to be unhappy, but I wouldn't say that I was happy, and I don't know why. Maybe there has always been something wrong, although I don't know what. But overall everything in my life was pretty simple up to this point, and there was no reason for me to be unhappy. It was after that that things became more complicated, but I will finish writing that tomorrow, as the more I write the more flashes of memory are coming back, and I need some time to process them. There was nothing I would consider to be traumatic, or anything more than an awful lot of children go through, and not nearly as bad as lots, but I still feel like I need to write about it. The appointment with L yesterday got me thinking a lot, but I will go into more detail regarding that tomorrow.

Another whole week...

I don't know what to do. I am feeling pretty crappy, which is probably evident from my last few blog posts. Not being able to see L today made it worse. The obvious thing to do would be to contact her and see if she could see me any other time this week rather than waiting another whole week, but that feels really difficult for a few reasons. Firstly, it sounds really stupid, but when an appointment has been cancelled I don't like to be the one to contact her - I want her to contact me. I am aware of how needy that sounds, and maybe I am, but if the CMHT call and cancel one of my appointments with her, then I really do find it difficult to be the one to make contact next, even if I know I need to speak to her. I suppose I just go into a little sulk because I feel like I don't matter when appointments are cancelled, and if I am the one who makes contact then I just feel resentful, whereas if she contacts me then I come out of the sulk and it is ok again. I still feel jealous and pissed off with whoever has taken my appointment time, but I do know that she wouldn't cancel unless she has to, and that it therefore isn't her fault. But I really dislike being told that she can't see me by the CMHT rather than her. Childish? Absolutely. But it just presses all my abandonment and rejection buttons, and I don't know how to deal with it. So that is one reason why I don't feel like I can contact her for an appointment.

Also, common sense makes me think that if she had any time free this week that she could have seen me in, then she would have told them to offer me that appointment slot, rather than waiting another whole week, and therefore it would be pointless contacting her. This is probably true - she is very busy, so probably has no other times free. And so contacting her to try and see her this week would just end up being like a double rejection, as she couldn't see me today, and then wouldn't be able to see me any other day either, plus I would have been the one to contact her and I would resent that. And finally, I feel like if she does have time free later in the week, I must not deserve it. I am sure there must be other people more important than me, and if she felt like I deserved that time then she would have offered it right? Or rather told the receptionist to offer it. And in that case I would just feel stupid for asking. And like I was wasting her time.

So basically, I don't feel like I can contact her. But I really feel like I need to see her. I feel shit, and a week feels like a really, really long time when I am feeling like this. The last week has been difficult, and this week isn't looking like it is going to be any easier. I just want to hide away and not see anyone, and instead I have to go out to rehearsals every night, and pretend that everything is fine when it really isn't. And the only release I ever get, when I can actually be honest about how I am feeling, and don't have to put up a front, is when I see L. So that hour a week really matters a lot, and losing it when I am feeling this low is really difficult. But contacting her and not being able to see her, which is the most likely outcome, would be even more difficult. I just don't seem to be able to cope with life at all at the moment. Little things are sending me into a complete spin, and this has just made me lose any remaining feelings I had of being able to cope.

Middle of the night thoughts

It is 3:30am and I don't know what to do with myself. I am not sleepy. Not at all. Exhausted, but not sleepy. I don't know what to do. It's funny. I read so much normally. Even if I am not feeling too great I can read children's books, or fast paced books like thrillers, but when I feel really bad it is like I forget how to read. Of course I can still read the words, but they don't go into my head. I read a sentence, and have no idea what it actually said. So I give up. Occasionally I persevere and get through a chapter, and then realise that I can't even remember the name of the character, let alone anything that actually happened. At that point I generally realise it is quite futile even trying to read, and give up until my mood starts to pick up a bit. I try and carry on reading simpler things, like blogs and message boards - nice little short manageable things. But often the same thing happens. I read a blog update and have to keep going back over and over it. Sometimes I just give up, like with books. Reading is what I usually do in the middle of the night when I can't sleep. I am not sure what to do with myself when that option isn't there.

There is nobody to talk to. Obviously my parents are asleep. My friends are asleep. Nobody is online. I could go and talk to the dog, but even he doesn't seem to appreciate it very much when I go downstairs in the middle of the night. I don't even know if I want to speak to anyone. Some of the time at the moment I just want to shut the whole world out. My family. My friends. Everyone. Nobody can say anything that will make me feel any better, so there is no point talking about how I feel. And how am I supposed to talk about anything else, when that is all I can think about? But sometime I just feel really lonely. Completely isolated. I can't talk to anybody, because there is nobody to talk to. I don't like worrying people, so I can't talk to family or friends. And there is also an element of me that is wanting to keep quiet about how I am feeling because the suicidal thoughts are very strong, and they are saying that if nobody knows then nobody can try and stop me. Not that anyone could actually stop me killing myself, but they could make it more difficult for me. Well, I suppose technically I could be stopped if I was in hospital, but I am confident that won't ever happen again.

Sometimes I feel like there are two mes. Two voices inside my head. Well there are two voices inside my head, but they are both mine - they aren't actual voices. Just out loud thoughts I suppose. But they do have conversations about things, and I don't know which side the outside of my head me agrees with. For example, the suicidal voice is quite liking the fact that L is away. It knows that normally I would talk to L if I was having suicidal thoughts, and that would help me to get through them. It also knows that one of the things that bothers me about killing myself is feeling guilty because of how much L has always supported me, and knowing that if I killed myself and she had known I was suicidal (which she would know if she was there, because I always tell her what I am thinking) that she would have to justify all her actions and decisions etc at a tribunal, and maybe she would feel guilty or something for not being able to stop me. I don't know. It just knows that I don't want to let L down, and killing myself would be the ultimate way of letting her down I suppose. But if she isn't there, that doesn't apply. She doesn't know how I am feeling. She wouldn't have to justify anything. There would be no guilt. It keeps reminding me of all of that. How much easier it would be to do it now, when she isn't about, than it would be when she is there. Not easier in physical/practical terms, but emotionally. So the suicidal side is seeing quite a lot of positives. Then there is the other side - the side that wants help. The side that often pisses me off by being too needy, too emotional. I am not sure what to call it. I suppose essentially it is my survival instinct, so I will call it the survival side. The survival side really isn't liking L being away. It is like it has lost its main support in surviving. She is the person I talk to, who I tell how I feel, and who helps me cope with it. She doesn't take it away, because nobody can do that, but she listens, and she doesn't judge, and she supports me, and knowing she is there to do that helps me survive. My survival side is panicking a bit about not having that. Although technically there are other people I could speak to - whoever is on duty at the CMHT, or maybe my GP - it knows I won't, because I don't trust those people. The suicidal side would not allow me to call the CMHT and say how I am feeling, and what thoughts I am having. I don't think any side of me would want to do that actually. I don't trust people, and of course there is nothing they can do. And there is absolutely no way whatsoever that I will be taking any trips to A&E, which is always a risk when telling someone how you feel. So yes, survival side is finding it very difficult not having L around. Survival side's first instinct when feeling bad is always to speak to L, and it seems a bit short on other suggestions. The only thing is has come up with is to try and keep thinking of things to stay alive for - as I said before, at the moment that is my Dad's birthday on Tuesday. After that it will have to try and think of something else. And to take Diazepam if I feel overwhelmed. But that is hardly rocket science. I sound like a complete idiot talking about 2 sides of me thinking things as though they are people, but that is how it feels. As a whole I have no idea what I think or feel. It changes all the time - one minute I am with suicidal side, the next I am trying to listen to survival side. I don't know where I am. I just know I am confused and overwhelmed by it all. It is tiring having a battle in your head the whole time.

'Ooh, Thank you, doctor, Valium is my favorite color. How'd you know?' - Next To Normal

Cancelled appointment

I was supposed to see L this morning, but the office rung and cancelled and said she was off sick. Feel a bit crap. It is already 2 weeks since I have seen her, because obviously last week I was in Cornwall, and now I don't know if I will get to see her this week or not. For some reason I don't get upset when it is cancelled because she is off sick like I do if it is cancelled because she has an emergency though. When it is an emergency I just get jealous of the other person who is getting to see her, even though I know they must be in crisis and are probably being admitted, whereas when she is off sick I find it hard but I just think well it isn't her fault. But it is still hard. I missed having her to talk to when I was finding things hard when I was away, as I couldn't call due to the lack of mobile reception, and so I have been waiting on today, and then it was cancelled. I really hope she can fit me in another day, but I don't know how likely it is.

Relationships with professionals

I talked in my last post about relationships with friends etc being complicated. At the moment I am feeling like relationships with professionals are just as complicated - sometimes more so. I said recently that I feel like my relationship with L, or how I feel about it, has changed, and I wasn't sure how or why, and I have been thinking about that. I think it is probably partly because I haven't seen her as regularly lately - she has had to cancel several appointments, and she has also had leave, and that has left me partly not feeling quite as comfortable with her because of having been seeing her less, and also quite let down and rejected because of the cancelled appointments. I find it very difficult to trust people, and there are very few people that I do completely trust, and I usually end up getting very attached to those people, as I have with L, and so then when I feel rejected by them I tend to back right off, to stop myself getting more hurt. I do know that the cancelled appointments haven't been her fault, and that it has been because she has had other patients in crisis etc, but know it is related to other patients that she sees makes it even harder in some ways, because I feel intensely jealous of them - I suppose for being in the type of crisis that means she has to cancel all of her other appointments. It makes me feel like they are important, and I'm not - nobody has ever cancelled all their other appointments when I have been in crisis. It sounds very petty and childish, but that is the way I feel. I also seem to see her for less time now even when I do see her. I usually used to see her for about an hour and a half - then there was the period when I was supposed to see her twice a week (which only actually happened twice, as the other times she had to cancel the other appointment that week), and so the appointments were shorter, only an hourish, but there were 2 of them (or supposed to be). Now it has gone back to once a week, but the appointments are still shorter - the week before last was just about an hour, then last weeks was cancelled, and then this weeks was about 50 minutes. Again, I know it sounds minor, but it makes me feel like she doesn't think it is worth seeing me for longer like she used to. And then there is the whole making goals and setting targets thing that was brought up at my CPA, and that L has been talking about since. I just can't seem to do it - I can't think of any goals or targets to make at all, but L wants them to come from me. And I am constantly worried that if I can't think of anything, and I am not making any progress, then she will discharge me. It is a cliche, but I am terrified of being abandoned by her, I really am. And I keep wondering if that is why she is seeing me less lately etc - because she doesn't see the point when nothing changes and I don't make any progress. I think all of those things are affecting my relationship with her, because I am scared of being too reliant on her, as I think I am, and then being dropped, so I am subconsciously trying to distance myself a bit. Relationships with therapists and other professionals are really hard, because they are the people you are meant to be able to trust, and rely on, and be honest with more than anyone else, and yet there is always fear, for me anyway, that they will leave, or something will happen that will stop you seeing them etc, and it is incredibly hard to deal with that when it does happen, so part of you doesn't want to let them in, or let yourself get reliant on them, because then it hurts too much when they leave, or you can't see them anymore.

I have an appointment with my GP tomorrow. I have mixed feelings about her at the moment. I started thinking about my relationship with her after reading DeeDee's post on Mental Nurse about GPs and Mental Illness. I can't decide what I think about my GP. She is nice, she tries to understand, and when I was first seeing her and waiting on an appointment with the psychiatrist, she pushed for that etc. So in some ways she is good. On the other hand, I get the impression sometimes that she thinks I just need to pull myself together and stop being a mentalist, which is obviously not as simple as it sounds. When I saw her and was very suicidal she told me to replace the obsessive thoughts about suicide with obsessive thoughts about something else - I like dogs was her suggestion I believe... She claimed not to notice when I gained 25lbs, and yet recently when I mentioned my weight having gone down slightly (2lbs), she said she had thought I looked like I had lost weight. Last time I saw her she asked if I had had CBT - I said that I had and thought that it was patronising crap for the most part. She then asked me if there were any other types of therapy. Whilst she is not a specialist, I would expect a GP to know that more types of therapy than CBT exist. I said that DBT is usually the recommended treatment (in the NICE guidelines) for BPD, and she asked what that was. I gave a little explanation (bearing in mind I have never had any DBT myself) and she said she thought that sounded really good and would really help me. I explained that it wasn't available in our area, and her suggestion was that I become a DBT therapist so that I can run DBT sessions in our area?! This was one of the most bizarre suggestions I have ever had from any professional, ever. I think that she probably mainly has experience with IAPT, and I believe some of the people who deliver that do literally just do like a short course in basic CBT etc, which I can only assume was her reasoning for thinking I could become a DBT therapist. She didn't seem to realise that even if it was that simple, it wouldn't actually help me, as I need therapy myself - not to become a therapist for others. So she says some pretty ridiculous and unhelpful things at times. But she is nice, and I think she does genuinely want me to get better - she just seems to have very little knowledge past the absolute basics about mental health problems, and so I think doesn't know what to say a lot of the time. I have considered seeing another GP, but I do like her, and it is a small practice of 3 Doctors, and she is the only female. I am generally more comfortable with females, and one of the others I wouldn't consider seeing, as he was the first GP I ever spoke to about my mental health problems, back when I was 17, and was very unhelpful and unsympathetic. The other I think may possibly be the best where mental health is concerned, but I used to know him outside of the Dr/patient relationship (which is what happens when you live in a rural area!), and have therefore always felt slightly uncomfortable talking to him. But I don't know if my GP is right for me really, and I do sometimes feel like she doesn't grasp how desperate and suicidal I am feeling when things are really bad etc. I miss my old GP. She was the perfect combination of caring and knowledgable. Living where I do I don't have much choice in terms of GPs, and I do like Dr O, as I have said. But for example if L was on leave, and I was having a very bad, suicidal episode or something, and really needed help, the person I would try to speak to would probably be my GP, as I would rather speak to someone I know than a random CMHT member that I don't know, or even worse, my ex CCO, who really was a chocolate teapot. And I know that I wouldn't get anything in the way of help or suggestions from Dr O, except to talk to L when she was back. She wouldn't speak to the CMHT or Crisis Team or actually do anything. Maybe that is ok, and normal for GPs, and I expect too much after my old, fantastic GP. It just doesn't feel quite right. As I said, I have an appointment with her tomorrow, so I will see how that goes. I did think about seeing the GP there that I used to know, but if it felt too uncomfortable then I would then feel really awkward about going back to Dr O. Maybe better the devil you know?

Then there is Dr E, my psychiatrist. Again, she is nice, but is completely unwilling to try me on any medications, even though both L and I feel that I have been worse overall since coming off anti depressants, and I don't think would ever admit me to hospital or refer me to the Crisis Team however bad things were. So basically she does absolutely nothing, and therefore I am not going to be seeing her anymore, unless I want to for something in particular, in which case L will get me an appointment with her. So basically she is out of the picture now, and I am not sure how I feel about not being under the care of a psychiatrist, particularly since Dr O won't ever touch my medication, or rather she would never change anything when I was on medication - now I only have Diazepam there isn't much to touch I suppose.

I think overall I just have this feeling of being stuck, and general dissatisfaction at the moment with my mental health and treatment for it, or some of the time, lack of. I still think L is great, and I am still very attached to her, but for the reasons I talked about above I feel like things have gone slightly off with her, and given that she is now the only person I see about my mental health problems, this feels like a problem. I can't see anything changing for me with my current treatment, and that makes me feel very hopeless, as I can't cope with living like this, which in turn leads to suicidal thoughts. And that is why relationships with professionals are so complicated!

Cancelled

I was supposed to be seeing L this afternoon, but the receptionist just rung and cancelled. Said she had to see an emergency appointment or something. I did know she was on duty today, but she hadn't said she might have to cancel because of it, and I am feeling a bit shit about it all to be honest. It was 9:30 when the receptionist called, and I wasn't due to see her until 3, so unless it is the type of emergency that is going to literally take all day and therefore all her appointments are being cancelled, then I feel like I must have been seen as the least important person, and therefore she could see the emergency appointment instead of me. After finding last week's appointment quite difficult, now that today's appointment has been cancelled I am feeling quite crap about the whole thing. I can't cope with appointments being cancelled, I get too upset by it. They rearranged my appointment with her for next Tuesday, and that feels like a bloody long time away at the moment, especially since I have this whole birthday/funeral stuff to get through first. And I think that upsets me even more, because she knows I have that on Friday and am feeling really bad about it all, and she still isn't able to see me. Typical Borderline response, but I do feel rejected. Like I have said other times she has had to cancel, I know these things happen sometimes, and are unavoidable, but today it just feels like a rejection. For some reason I just don't feel as supported by her lately as I used to. I am considering discharging myself. That sounds a bit drastic in the circumstances, but it isn't just because she cancelled today, I was thinking about it after my appointment last week. I feel unable to do the things she wants me to do at the moment (primarily this goal setting stuff - I just can't think of anything at all, but apparently it needs to come from me), and so I feel like I am wasting her time. At the moment I want to die more than I want things to change, probably partly because it is a lot easier to imagine dying than it is to imagine things changing - it feels like far more of a possibility. And so again, it feels like I am wasting her time. And then when appointments are cancelled, like today, I just can't deal with it. It makes me feel worse than if I hadn't had an appointment booked in the first place. So I suppose I am wondering whether I want to carry on with it or not. Whether what I gain from seeing her outweighs the times when I feel useless for not being able to do what I am supposed to be doing, and when I feel rejected because appointments are cancelled etc. At the moment I don't know. This would have been unthinkable a few months ago, and I am not quite sure what has changed, but something has. I am not feeling very able to cope right now, I think I will try and go back to sleep.

Tough day

Today was a really hard day. I am not sure why really - I can't put my finger on what was wrong. My appointment was quite difficult. I had a bit of a panic attack not long into it. There seemed to be lots of noises coming in from outside, like there was a dog barking, and a child crying, and someone banging something or cutting something down or something, and all the noises seemed to be getting louder and louder and really overwhelming and I couldn't hear what L was saying because the noises were too much. And it was getting more and more overwhelming and distressing and my heart was getting faster and faster, and I could feel myself drifting away and I ended up in a ball on my chair crying and hyperventilating a bit, which made me dizzy. It didn't last long I don't think, maybe just a few minutes and then I managed to start to slow my breathing down, but I felt really tense for the rest of the appointment and hyper aware of all the noises, and I kept feeling that I was starting to dissociate and have to try and pull myself back. I don't often have panic attacks. I have problems with anxiety, but usually it comes on more slowly, and so I can either try and calm myself down before it develops into a panic attack, or I take some Diazepam which stops it from going any further, and it just stays at little heart palpitations and feeling tense, rather than shaking and hyperventilating etc. It just came on so quickly and suddenly, and there was nothing to even cause it, which is weird - I generally know my triggers for anxiety/panic attacks, and so avoid them whenever possible, which is one of the reasons I don't have more panic attacks. But I just felt so weird, and everything felt really threatening and scary, even though they were just perfectly ordinary sounds that weren't even coming from the room or building. I really don't know what that was all about. L did say that I am very sensitive, and do seem to feel things more intensely than other people might, and so if I was already feeling bad then quite ordinary things could affect me. I see what she meant by that. I do seem to feel things very deeply, and sometimes that is good, and other times it can be bad.

I suppose the actual appointment itself was alright. It just didn't feel quite right. I don't know why. She asked if I had managed to think of any goals, as talked about at the CPA Review, which was the last time I had seen her. I said that I hadn't been able to think of anything, and she said again how important it was that we had some objective goals to work towards, so that there was proof that seeing her was helping etc. But it is difficult. It isn't practical things that I see as the major problems that need changing. I don't see how sorting out my sleep pattern, for example, is going to change anything - I will still feel the same, just asleep at different times. That seems pointless, until there is something to change my sleep pattern for. I need to change how I think and feel, but that isn't an objective goal and therefore won't do for the NHS, or it has to be achieved through making goals that are objective. She asked if I really wanted to change anything. That is a hard one. I don't want to carry on like this. I can't carry on like this. But I can't imagine things ever changing, and I don't know how making goals about my sleep patterns or eating regularly, or whatever else they have in mind, will change anything. And at the moment I don't know if I can cope with going through the struggle of changing things like that when I don't think it will actually change anything meaningful for me. So I don't know. I don't know if I want to change things. And if I don't know that, then I don't know if there is any point in seeing L, and being under Mental Health services. I feel like I am wasting her time because I can't think of any goals, and I can't make myself want anything enough. I just want to not be here, and I can't see past that. I did sit there today wondering if there was any point in keeping going, or if I am just wasting her time.

Something did bother me about my appointment with L today, but I feel a bit weird saying it. Those of you who regularly read my blog will probably have noticed that I am pretty attached to L and think she is fantastic and can do no wrong, because when I get attached to someone they are then perfect in my eyes. But if I am completely honest I felt a little invalidated at one point today, which I never usually do with L - she is very understanding and supportive. It was towards the end of the appointment, and I said something about my belief that it is my fault that my Granddad died, and I felt like she was really quite dismissive of it. She said something about it not being a realistic philosophy at all, and that she thought that talking about it would be giving it more credence than it deserved, or something along those lines, and that I am intelligent enough to know that it isn't a viable theory. I know it might sound stupid to other people, but it feels real to me, and it is something that I have been thinking about a lot, and that has upset me a lot the last few days, and I did feel like it was just completely brushed over, which just left me feeling really quite invalidated. Saying this makes me feel quite guilty and disloyal or something - L has always been fantastically supportive of me, and never made me feel like this before. But I did today, and I think I needed to acknowledge that, if just to myself.

I really feel like things have slipped a lot over the last 3 or 4 weeks. I am still purging - not every day, but probably 4 or 5 times a week, which is quite a big increase from nothing. And then there has been the self harm; I haven't done that since last week, but I did do it several times, which again isn't great when I hadn't done it for 9 months. And then just the suicidal thoughts generally have been so strong, and I have been feeling so overwhelmed by everything - normal noises causing a panic attack today were an example of that. Everything feels so big and loud and dangerous and scary. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to stop things spiralling any further, if that is possible, and I don't know how to cope with the suicidal thoughts, or the feelings of guilt, or anything else that I am experiencing at the moment. It is just all too much.

Past vs. Future

When I saw L on tuesday she asked me to write about what being 'better'/well means to me, and what I would want from life if I didn't have mental health problems etc, ie how I would want my life to be if I recovered from this (she didn't say if - she said when, but to me it is a big if). I am finding it very difficult, I think largely because I find it so completely impossible to imagine. My adult life so far has been completely taken over by my mental health problems, and even before I was diagnosed as having Depression, and given medication etc, things were not right for quite a few years before that. I am not sure if they were ever right, I have a bad memory.

I do remember that even when I was very young, ie primary school age, I didn't fit in, and I was more comfortable in the company of adults than I was with other children. I had one best friend, who lived down the road from me but went to a different school, and I wasn't massively interested in having other friends. I was very jealous when she was spending time with her other friends from school etc - I didn't want to share her, I just wanted her to be my friend. I suppose I did have friends at school, and I did have friends round to play and went to theirs etc, but they weren't really close friends that I can remember. I was teased a lot at school, which turned into bullying when I was older, although only verbal - nothing physical. I am kind of side tracking here, but I suppose what I am trying to say is that there was always an element of not fitting in and of being different, and quite isolated, and then quite a lot happened around the time I was 10/11/12 - nothing really traumatic, but things that were big to me as a child. Within a couple of years my brother moved out, which I remember being very upset by, although I am not quite sure why as he must have been about 23 at the time, and I don't remember spending a lot of time with him prior to that or anything. My granddad died, who I was very close to. And my parents split up. I think it was also around that time that my relationship with my sister started going wrong. She had absolutely doted on me when I was little - she was almost like another mother, and she used to take me out a lot and buy me all sorts of things. Then suddenly (it seemed to me) she just kind of turned on me and started saying how spoilt I was, and just not being very nice to me. I probably was spoilt, but it was her who had been doing the spoiling - my parents didn't spoil me. Even the things I did hobby wise, like dancing, had been on her insistence - she had been desperate for me to do ballet when I was little, so I did. But at some point she seemed to start resenting me a lot - I think partly because of the opportunities I had that she never had, and partly because I obviously had most of my Mum's time etc - she is 17 years older than me. Our relationship has never really been right since then. Sometimes she is fine with me, and seems to want me to spend time with her, but she can be really quite nasty sometimes, particularly when there are other people around, and she isn't at all supportive of my mental health problems. She is quite a difficult person generally - everyone is really careful of what they say around her as she is liable to explode over tiny things - comments she takes the wrong way, or something she perceives as criticism, or really anything at all. So people tiptoe around her. I suppose if I am honest I can see similarities between us behaviourally, but I tend to bottle things up far more than she does I think, and I think I probably direct more of my anger inwards, whereas she gets very angry with other people. Although having said that, I do too sometimes - I can completely explode, generally at my parents, and be really aggressive. I don't know. Maybe we are more similar than I would like to admit. Anyway, this is all digression.

So my pre-teen years were quite difficult. I was particularly affected by my parents splitting up. My dad used to come and see me, and I would be completely distraught when he left, really hysterically crying and screaming and trying to chase the car as he drove away, and laying down in the middle of the road outside the house after he had gone. Then sometimes I would refuse to see or speak to him for months at a time. Then it would be back to him coming over as though nothing had happened. I think I was very confused and upset - my parents had always been the couple that would never split up, and I had no idea he was leaving until the day he left. I was a mess, and my mum was a mess, and so I would try to be ok for her, because I didn't want to make things worse for her. She went for counselling for a while, but I never talked to anybody. We didn't tell anybody he had left. We just pretended he was still living there. Nobody at school knew they had split up. Most of my friends didn't know. This went on for years really. Just keeping up a facade of happy families. He would always come and stay over Christmas, and come on holiday with us. I was always devastated when he left again. For some periods of time he would spend every weekend with us. Then either my mum or I would decide we didn't want to see him, and he would disappear for months, until we let him back. It was all pretty confusing really. I didn't have any friends at school, and over the years I started to grow away from my best friend. I wasn't happy. I used to skip school quite a lot. I did get ill quite a lot as a child, and when I wasn't actually ill I would pretend to be to get time off school. The only time I was happy was when I was rehearsing shows or performing. I felt accepted there. I felt like people liked me. I could pretend to be someone else. I think that was when I first started having a happy face that I would put on, however I felt inside. I was 12, and I had just auditioned for my first big production outside of school (Annie), and then between the auditions and rehearsals starting my dad had left, and I was confused and upset and all over the place, and those rehearsals were a safe place for me. I had the lead part and I didn't feel useless - people thought I was good and all of the cast were nice to me, and it was my escape. It was also around that time that I first remember getting attached to people. Not to the same extent that I did when I was older, but it was definitely there. I idolised the woman playing Grace. My teen years were basically spent avoiding school whenever possible, and going from one show to the next, because rehearsals were the only place that made me happy, and where I felt good about myself. And where the various people I got attached to over the years were. So although I was 17 before I ever spoke to anybody about how I felt - I had really never ever talked about emotions and feelings at all before then with anybody, not even in a general way - and was referred to the CMHT etc, right through my childhood and adolescence things weren't right. I wasn't happy. I wouldn't say I was depressed as I did still enjoy things, or performing anyway, but I wasn't happy either. And I think that is partly why I find it so difficult to think about the future, and what I want, and being happy and living a normal life. Because I don't really have much experience of that - certainly not as an adult, but not really even as a teenager or child. But I did have a clear idea of what I wanted when I was a teenager, and so I will try and write about that. Occasionally I will have moments when I remember why I cared, and why I wanted things, and I try to hold onto those, but they don't last long. I think one of the reasons I am finding this play so frustrating is because I am just not enjoying it at all - I have spent all of the rehearsals wishing I wasn't there, and when performing was my only outlet, and the only thing that I enjoyed for so many years, it is really hard to know that even that doesn't make me happy now. It makes me feel more hopeless.

I compare myself a lot to other people. People I went to school or college with. Who now have virtually all moved away from home and been to university, and are now working. A few didn't go to university but have been working. Nobody else seems to have done absolutely nothing. One girl from my class at school is a Doctor now. Another is doing a Masters degree. One guy is in a band that have had Mercury Prize nominated album and toured all over the world. I feel completely humiliated when I see people I haven't seen for a long time and they ask what I am doing, because I am not doing anything, and I haven't done anything since A levels. And it frustrates me because I know that I was as clever as everyone I was at school with. I don’t mean to sound arrogant when I say that, but I was. Even though my attendance at school was relatively poor, and I didn’t work terribly hard, I always still did well. Not as well as I could have done, but better than most people. I got the best GCSE results in my year, and I didn’t do any revision. Admittedly my year group wasn’t the brightest (both girls I have mentioned had moved schools before GCSEs), but even so, I should have done something. I feel like I have been left behind. Not just academically either. In life generally. Some people I was at school or college with are engaged or married. I even feel useless when I compare myself to friends I have who also have mental health problems. Even compared to them I seem to have achieved less. Some of them have also been to university and got degrees. Some haven't managed to get their degrees, but at least managed to do a year or 2 before leaving. Some have worked. Some have travelled. Nearly everyone I know apart from me seems to have a driving license. There is just an endless list of things that I haven't done that other people I know have. And that makes me feel really useless.

To me, being well would mean;
- Feeling ok about my life. Not wanting to kill myself. Not happy all of the time, because I know that isn't realistic, and that people aren't happy all of the time, but happy some of the time. And ok most of the time. Everyone has bad days, but every day shouldn't be a bad day.
- Feeling well enough to do things, like the summer course in America for example.
- Enjoying things. Having things that make me happy. I am completely lacking this at the moment, and it is probably one of the hardest things to deal with.
- Being able to go into busy places, like bars or something, without getting such overwhelming anxiety that I have to leave.
- Having friends, and wanting to spend time with them and go out with them. I don't really have many friends who don't have mental health problems themselves, and whilst I do have some really good friends, I would like to be able to have friends who aren't caught up in the whole mental health world. I know why I tend to stick to people who have MH problems - it is because they understand when I am having a bad day and just can't stop crying, or when I can't cope with leaving the house, or I can't have a proper conversation because all I can think about is suicide. And because I have been hurt by other friends I have had who haven't been able to deal with that, because they just don't understand. Or because they get bored of me never wanting to go out with them. Or because they have been scared off by seeing me or talking to me when I have been bad. But it has all lead to me feeling abandoned, and so now I am scared of making friends with 'normal' people. If I was well that wouldn't happen. I would want to go out and see them, because I wouldn't be anxious about being around people, or feel like I had to put on a happy mask all of the time, or be too pre-occupied with suicide to hold a normal conversation.
- Having relationships. Wanting to see someone. Falling in love. Not feeling like I don't deserve it, or like I shouldn't be with someone because it wouldn't be fair on them to have to put up with me.
- Accepting my body and weight. Not neccessarily being happy with it all of the time, because again that isn't realistic, but just having the type of relationship with my body and food that other people do. Not desperately wanting to purge when I eat 'bad' foods. Being able to eat healthily without going into restriction mode, and being able to eat some junk food without beating myself up about it, and then letting myself just eat as much crap as I want because I have ruined the day anyway. Finding a balance between eating whatever I like (mostly rubbish) and restricting. Not letting the scales determine whether it will be a good or a bad day. Not constantly thinking about calories and weight whenever I eat.
- Having my own place. Not supported accommodation, but actually my own flat, or flatshare. Just like other people do.
- Being able to go to drama school. This is probably the biggest thing, as it would mean being able to do most of the above, plus be in college 40 - 60 hours a week, as well as all the work outside of college - vocal work, body conditioning, learning songs and scripts, writing essays etc etc
- Not being reliant on benefits for money. Working like everyone else - ideally in acting, but doing the typical out of work actor jobs like temping and telesales when there is no acting work.
- Being out of the mental health system. Not needing therapy or medication, or support in that way. Just dealing with bad days however other people do.
- Not wanting to turn to some form of self neglect or self harm all of the time, and not seeing suicide as the way out when things get overwhelming.
- Being able to think in a more balanced way, rather than just in black and white.
- Wanting to live. Seeing life as a positive thing, rather than something that I want to be over as soon as possible.

I am writing all of this but it feels like something that is a complete impossibility. I can’t imagine any of it ever happening. I find thinking about the future so overwhelming, because the things I always wanted seem too far out of reach, and I don’t even know if they are what I want, because I don’t want anything at the moment, except to die. Thinking about the future goes against every instinct I have – I find it difficult to even think a day ahead, let alone years into the future, and I find it very anxiety provoking and just scary I suppose. Because I can’t imagine any of this ever happening. Because all I can see is years of feeling like this stretching out in front of me, and I can’t cope with that.

Catch up

I haven't written for a few days. I have been very tired and just not really felt like I have had anything to write about. Things are not getting any easier. Having said that, I think there has been change over the last few weeks, but I couldn't say whether it was good or bad. A few weeks ago I was completely exhausted, to the point where it was difficult to do things like move my head. My thinking was really slowed down, and I knew I felt really terrible, but I think I was too tired to actually do anything about it. Now I am still exhausted, but not in quite the same way. I don't really know if I could explain the difference, but it is different. And my brain is definitely different. It is filled with thoughts. Racing thoughts. Constant thinking and planning and plotting. I think I seem better to other people - certainly L has commented that visibly I don't seem as bad as I did a few weeks ago. I think that is largely because I have recovered the ability to talk in full sentences, which is of course a good thing. But I actually feel far more at risk now than I did then. I am much more on edge. I am having to take a lot more Diazepam to try and calm me down and slow my thoughts a bit. I feel like I am actually a much greater risk to myself now than I was a few weeks ago, even if I appear better to others.

It is the play this week. I am not looking forward to it. This is all wrong. I used to love performing. Being on stage gave me such a buzz. When I was growing up I was only happy when I was at rehearsals, or performing. That was the only part of life that interested me. Now I don't even have that. I said I couldn't make the rehearsal friday because I was ill. That was a lie - I just couldn't face it. I had to go sunday as I didn't feel like I could let people down by missing yet another rehearsal, but it was crap. I wasn't in the mood at all - I was completely lost in my thoughts. I just phoned it in. I also got very faint in the middle of the rehearsal and had to sit down for a few minutes. I am not sure what that was about. I got like it again at ballet today. I have quite a heavy period at the moment so I am wondering if it is related to that. Either that or I am ill. The weird thing is, that much as I hate this play, in a way it is keeping me going. I have been having such strong suicidal thoughts over the last few days, particularly friday and saturday, but I am acutely aware that I would be letting down the rest of the cast, and I can't do that. I have the tech rehearsal tomorrow night, and then the dress on wednesday, and then performances thursday, friday and saturday. And then it will be over. Thank goodness. I feel like it is taking too much of my energy, and I don't have enough as it is. Plus of course the feeling obliged to stay alive thing just makes me really resent the whole thing.

My mum picked up my Zopiclone on saturday. Unfortunately she is following the little note that my GP scribbled all over it and giving me one tablet every other night. Which basically does fuck all. Considering I have been taking 30mg a go lately when I have dipped into my stash, and not even been knocked out by that, I think it is fairly obvious why 7.5mg isn't doing a lot. Or anything at all really. This is pretty unfortunate. I am now thinking that since they don't work I may as well not take them and just add them to the stash so that I can either take a few at a time when I really want to sleep, or use them to overdose on. Sleep is still a problem. I am having trouble getting to sleep, which isn't anything new, but I am waking up a ridiculous ammount, and I just still feel so tired when I wake up. And I look tired too. I have black circles under my eyes, and bags. People keep commenting on how tired I look. I am never quite sure what the aim is when people say that. I am usually aware that I look like crap, and someone reminding me doesn't really help. And how are you meant to respond?

The weekend was really hard. Friday night I came very close to overdosing. Much closer than I have for a long time. Actually probably the closest I have got since I last did overdose. Then I got into a complete state on Saturday - I was convinced that L was going to stop seeing me, and the thought of that just sent me into complete turmoil. I know I will have to deal with it at some point, but right now I just can’t think about me. It just really fuelled my fears of abandonment enormously and I just got so worked up and I just couldn’t calm myself down for hours – I was just sobbing completely uncontrollably for ages and ended up with a splitting headache as a result of it. It also made the suicidal thoughts even stronger, because the thought of trying to cope on my own just feels so completely impossible. It is hard enough to keep going at the moment as it is, and without support I just couldn’t do it. And then I was also thinking that I should kill myself because I feel like I am such a nuisance and if I was dead then she wouldn’t have to see me, nobody would. But then I got really scared about what would happen if I tried to kill myself and it didn’t work, and would I end up with no support then. And round and round in circles my brain went. It does worry me how I can get so dependent on somebody. I get so that I really rely on people, and then if/when I lose them I find it incredibly hard to deal with. I think it is partly because I find it so difficult to trust people – I could count on one hand the number of people I have ever completely trusted, and whose judgement I would always believe. Actually, I would probably only need 2 fingers for the people I have trusted absolutely, and then a couple more fingers for people I have trusted, but not to quite that extent. I wonder if that is ‘normal’ or not.

I have semi made a decision on America. Primarily due to pressure from my parents. Well I don't think they intended it as such. My dad asked me if I had made up my mind, and I said no, and he asked why not and didn't I need to decide. It seems that grabbing my teddy bear, bursting into tears and repeatedly saying 'I can't talk about that now, please close the door' made him think it wasn't a good idea for me to go to America for a month. My parents basically said that if I was in that much doubt about whether or not to go, then it probably wasn't a good idea, as I would just end up getting more and more worked up about it. They have a point. But I now feel like a failure. Naturally. I tried to persuade my mum last night how much better off she would be without me. I asked if she wished she had never had me. She said parents don't think about that. I said that I was now making her think about that, and did she wish she hadn't had me. Apparently she doesn't wish that. Neither does she wish I would disappear, which I have felt was a good idea ever since watching a documentary last week about a man who tried to disappear for a month to see if it was possible. I thought I could pretend to disappear, and nobody would be worried about me because I would be disappeared, and I could then kill myself, and nobody would know, and therefore nobody would be upset. I didn't share the killing myself part of the plan with my mum - just the rest of it, but she didn't like it. I suppose she has to say that really though. She can't really say to me that it was a massive mistake having me, and of course she wishes she hadn't, because that would sound a bit mean. Although I did say that I wish she hadn't had me, which is possibly also a bit mean, but true. That is what I want more than anything else. To just not exist.

Hmph

Since I have taken quite a few Zopiclone lately I decided I needed more to replenish my supplies, and so that I would have some to take to help me sleep. I rung my GP surgery yesterday. Dr O doesn't work on a tuesday, which I thought was probably a good thing as she was unlikely to give me any. I asked to speak to a different GP, who I have known for years, but don't ever see because I used to know him outside of the GP/patient relationship, and so feel a bit awkward talking to him about my mental health problems, plus I am more comfortable talking to women. Anyway, I thought I would be able to get him to prescribe some Zopiclone. When I rung they said he was out on home visits and they would ask him to call me before afternoon surgery. He didn't ring back, I didn't know why. I got a call from Dr O earlier today saying that the Dr hadn't got the message to call me yesterday, so she was calling. I asked her about the Zopiclone, and somewhat suprisingly she agreed. She said she would give me 14 tablets, and to take one every other night so they would last a month. Since I need at least 2 to get any effect I thought they would probably last about a week, if that, but I decided not to push my luck and ask for more. But she then said she would want my mum to pick them up and dispense them because she didn't trust me with them. I said that would be difficult because it would be hard for my mum to get to the pharmacy to pick them up, and I could pick them up that afternoon when I was with N. She asked me to promise that I wouldn't overdose on them and said she was giving them to me to help on and not so that I could overdose on them, and that she would be really upset if I did that. I said I wouldn't and that I just wanted to get some sleep. I justified this in my head by thinking that I wouldn't use *these* Zopiclone to OD on, I would use the old ones, and I would just use these ones to get some sleep. Probably.

This afternoon I had my last ever appointment with N. I was seeing her at 2 and she hadn't booked in anyone else for the afternoon so that we had a few hours. We went to a different town and wandered around the shops and that sat in Cafe Nero for a little while. On the way home I decided to pick up my prescription. I went into the pharmacy and asked for it, and the pharmacist stood looking at the script for a minute and then came over, looking a little awkward, and showed me a note that the GP had written on the script saying that it was only to be dispensed to my mum. He said he wasn't really sure what to do as he wasn't used to getting notes like that on prescriptions and would my mum be able to pick it up. I was fuming inside, and felt like a complete tit, but just said that my mum wouldn't be able to get it today but that hopefully she would be able to get it tomorrow. It was a very awkward situation. I was embarrassed - I am 23 years old and I wasn't allowed to pick up my own prescription, and he seemed embarrassed that it said not to give it to me. I underestimated my GP. I thought I had managed to persuade her that it was all fine, and I clearly hadn't - she obviously wasn't fooled. Dr O - 1, Bip - 0. I then had to go back to the car and tell N that I hadn't been able to get my prescription. Tried to fob her off by saying it was a long story, but she asked why not so I then had to explain that my GP had written a note saying that my mum should pick them up. She seemed slightly confused and asked if my GP thought I was that at risk or if this was a regular thing, and I just said I didn't know.

I am annoyed. Now I don't get my Zopiclone how I want them. Unless I can persuade my mum to give them to me. Which I doubt will work. I get pissed off when my plans don't work out right.

N dropped me off and I said goodbye to her, and gave her a card I had bought for her. I do feel a bit sad that I won't be seeing her anymore, but I have had other endings that have been much more difficult and emotional. I suppose I know I still have L, and it is her that I really rely on, and who is my main support, and yes, who I am attached to. I am seeing her tomorrow. She is taking me to have a look at the housing that I talked about before. I guess at least then I will know what it is like, and be in a better position to judge if it is something I am at all interested in or not. She said she would pick me up just before 10. I said she was cruel and that I will still be unconscious. She said she was looking forward to seeing me bright eyed and bushy tailed. No chance! I am going to attempt not to mention the Zopiclone fiasco to her - I am not sure that she would be pleased I have managed to get more, as she knows that I have some and that I have been taking it fairly liberally.

Election day tomorrow! Come on the Greens! Really hoping the Tories don't get a majority. I think it is unlikely, but I am slightly concerned...

Appointments today

So I had 2 appointments today. First with N, and then one with Dr E and L. When N arrived we stayed here for a little while and then went to the town. We were planning to go into Costa but I didn't want to be around people so we just sat in the car.

Then I had my appointment with Dr E and L. Again, I can only remember bits of it - I was kind of drifting in and out. They asked what the hardest thing was at the moment, and I said the suicidal thoughts and how I couldn't get a break from them because of not having the concentration to do anything, and so I couldn't distract myself. Dr E asked some questions that I can't really remember, I just know I couldn't answer. Things about seeing L, and what was helping and what I was learning etc. She also asked why things are so bad at the moment, and what was causing it. I said I didn't know. She asked if it was because N is leaving. I said no. L mentioned that a while back I jokingly said that I was cursed because everyone that I see ends up going off sick long term, or leaving. Dr E really latched onto this and said I was feeling like this because of N leaving. I said I really didn't think it was. She said it was and that I was feeling rejected and abandoned. I didn't have the energy to argue so I just didn't say anything more about it. For the record I really do not think it has anything to do with N leaving. If L was leaving then absolutely, I would be a mess, but although I like N I do not feel attached to her, and whilst it is a shame she is leaving I am not upset about it.

They asked what would be helpful. L asked if it would help if she called me every day. I was very honest and said that I was feeling so suicidal that I really couldn't imagine not killing myself and that I couldn't even make myself think about tomorrow or next week as in my mind they don't exist. L said she would ring tomorrow. Dr E told me I needed to distract myself, which made me wonder if she had heard anything I had said earlier on in the appointment. She told me to go for a walk, which made me laugh hysterically for no real reason, which turned into crying. She kept saying that they understood how hard it was, and that they were there to support me, which whilst well meaning, came across as rather patronising given that I haven't seen her since January, and therefore she isn't really a source of support for me. L saying that would be fine, as she actually does support me, but it just seemed a bit trite coming from someone I haven't seen for 3 months. She also gave me the usual speech about what a talented, intelligent girl I am, and what a shame it was to see me like this. I never find that a helpful comment, and it baffles me when people who have never seen me perform say that I am talented. I said that I was completely exhausted and I just need to make everything stop.

There was no mention of medication, so I am assuming that L had already spoken to Dr E about that before I saw them and that Dr E had vetoed that idea. So overall it was much as I had expected really. I was particularly useless and bad at speaking, and whilst what I have written here is the jist of what I said, it was rather more confused and muttered with the odd staring into space and having to be brought back to earth to continue what I was saying etc. But at least I have been completely honest about my suicidal intent, so nobody can say I should have told someone how I was feeling or anything, as I clearly have done so.

So.....

I haven't written anything for a while. Don't really seem to have much to say at the moment. I am feeling quite flat/numb most of the time. I am still really unhappy with my weight and struggling on that front. I ordered some weight loss tablets earlier. Nothing drastic or dangerous - just some herbal ones from a health shop. Figured I would try those before I went for the Ephedra. So I have ordered some Hoodia, just to try and curb my appetite. If they don't work I will order some Ephedra. I feel so enormous. I do know logically that I am not fat - if BMI 20 - 25 is healthy (I say if because so many BMI guides say 18.5 - 25, but Doctors and health people always say 20, and I believe that it is officially 20 for Caucasians) then I am at the low end of that, but it is a big increase from my BMI of 17.5 in September. Even in the last 3 or 4 weeks I have gained about 6lbs, which is a lot. And actually it is those 6lbs that have made the difference between me feeling ok in my clothes, and not wanting to get dressed because everything is so tight, so I am going to focus on losing that first, before I think about long term. But I need to stop gaining first!

I was supposed to be seeing L today, but she was off sick, and she is on leave next week, so that isn't too good. I haven't seen her since tuesday of last week, so that is a week and a half ago already, and it will be another week and a half before I see her, so it will be 3 weeks between appointments, which is really hard when I am used to seeing her every week. I do get annoyed with myself for being so dependant on people. That is the trouble with therapy, and getting so attached. It does make it really difficult when I have to miss a week for any reason, and even 1 week to the next feels like a long time. It isn't only down to attachment - it is partly because it can be such a relief to have the chance to talk about everything and just get it all out, and it is the only time I even come close to doing that. So it is really difficult when that hour and a half disappears an hour before. I don't blame L at all, it isn't her fault she is ill - it is just unfortunate, and it is difficult when you have expected a session and then don't get it, and also unfortunate that she isn't there next week. I am seeing N next week, on tuesday, so at least that is something. She had this week off, so I haven't seen anyone at all next week. I was due to be seeing Dr E next week as well, but I have had to cancel as I can't get there when my mum is at work, so I am waiting to hear when that will be rearranged for. And I am seeing Dr O on friday, but that is just a little chat really.

My sleep is very bad still. At the moment I can use the Olympics as an excuse to an extent (did anybody see the Women's Skeleton tonight? So exciting!), but I am sleeping until 3 or 4 in the afternoon, which even I admit is not terribly good. When I spoke to L the other day she said we really need to work on improving that. For some reason the day scares me a bit. I think it is partly because when things are really bad I don't like being awake in the day, as I know that I have the whole day on my own and it feels really unsafe, and also psychologically the day feels shorter if I wake up later - I know it isn't, but if I wake up in the afternoon then I can tell myself the day is nearly over, whereas if I wake up in the morning the day feels painfully long. Also, if I don't wake up until the afternoon there is less time left for eating... But I do accept I need to improve my sleep, even if it goes back to waking up at 12 or so, that would be a vast improvement. There is just so much I need to work on, it all feels a bit overwhelming.

My day

I saw L today. I am so grateful to have such a supportive and caring CPN. If there were more people like her working in the NHS then Mental Health services would be so much better. I have never had another care coordinator who I have felt able to trust to such an extent, and who I have believed genuinely cares about what happens to me and is actually committed to helping me. I am obviously very attached to her, but I think she knows that and knows how to deal with it (and me!).

I am struggling a lot. Very strong suicidal thoughts, which to be honest I do feel like I will act on at some point soon. It sounds stupid but my weight and eating issues are contributing to this, although obviously that isn't the only thing by any means. A couple of weeks ago I mentioned that I had lost a couple of pounds, basically from feeling too crap to move. Unfortunately that has now swung into comfort eating, which is the other thing that can happen to my eating when my depression is bad. Consequently not only have I gained the 2 pounds that I lost, but I have gained more on top of that. I have just weighed myself (yes I know it is 3AM and that is a stupid time to be awake, let alone weigh myself) and nearly burst into tears as my weight is just going up and up and I feel so bloody out of control of that too now, on top of all the feelings and thoughts that I can't control. Plus I have some documentary on TV that just showed a clip of You're The One That I Want from Grease, and Olivia Newton John looked so skinny that I found it really triggering, and I am not usually triggered easily like that. It was just weighing myself and seeing my weight so high, followed by seeing that. It just really set me off.

I don't know what to do with myself. I just can't cope with all these feelings, it is too overwhelming. I really am desperate.

Borderline Personality Disorder

I hate it.

I don't want it to be my diagnosis. I don't want professionals to look at my notes and think oh great, another bloody Borderline. I don't want to be thought of as a manipulative, attention seeking, pain in the arse. I don't want to have the diagnosis that all the professionals hate. If it was going to help me access specialist treatment, like a theraputic community, or DBT, then fair enough. But it isn't. The treatment I get is the same I would get without the BPD diagnosis, except with the added bonus of my psychiatrist telling me how lucky I am that they are providing me with treatment, as they generally turn down all PD referrals. Which I am assuming means that as soon as it isn't convenient for them to treat me I will be discharged. Perhaps I am being overly cynical here, but I have seen the difference in treatment I received from the Crisis Team before and after they knew I had a PD diagnosis. Before, I was getting daily visits, and although I generally scorn the crisis team, it was actually helping. Or it was at least stopping things from deteriorating. Then they found out I had a PD diagnosis and I never received another visit from them. It is all very well the NICE guidelines stating 'People with borderline personality disorder should not be excluded from any health or social care service because of their diagnosis', but this isn't the reality. People *are* refused treatment because of their diagnosis. I am lucky - I have L, who is possibly even more anti BPD diagnosis/stigma than I am. But if she were to leave I have no doubt that I would just be dropped. I want my diagnosis to be Depression again. There are no advantages for me in having a BPD diagnosis, and many disadvantages.

But also, I don't want to 'be' Borderline.
I don't want constant suicidal thoughts
I want to be able to have 'normal' relationships with people
I don't want to form ridiculously strong attachments to people who can't genuinely care about me in return
I don't want the crazy changes in mood
I don't want to get so angry over such minor things
I don't want that horrible empty feeling all of the time
I don't want to make impulsive decisions that lead to me being disappointed in myself

There are so many other things, too many to even go into. Some are more related to my Depression or Eating Disorder or Anxiety, but really it all links in. I don't know where one issue stops and another starts.

I don't want to be Borderline.
I don't want to be me.

Mish mash thoughts!

I feel shit. Confused and stressed and frustrated and just shit. New Year is stressing me out a lot. I am trying to think of it as just another day, but I can't. I don't want to be here. I desperately wish that people would let me go. I suppose by that I primarily mean my parents. I wish they could accept me killing myself. And I know that they never will, which just puts me in a horrible situation. I hate living, I don't want to be here, I desperately want to kill myself, but I know that in doing so I would hurt the people that I care about the most, even if I do think it would be better for them in the long term.

I saw Dr O today. I asked her to put me on Tryptophan again. I used to take this alongside an anti depressant, as some dipshit psychiatrist thought it would make an SSRI more effective. Needless to say it didn't, but it definitely did affect my appetite, which I didn't actually realise until recently. Whilst I was on the Tryptophan my appetite decreased, and I lost weight without having to try too hard. Yes, I was restricting, but it was easy as I just didn't get hungry. Then when I stopped taking it, my appetite came back and I gained weight - I am now a stone more than I was in the summer. Stupidly I didn't link the weight changes and the Tryptophan until a week or so back, and I now desperately want to start it again. I don't give a flying fuck if it doesn't work as an anti depressant - I just want to feel in control of my eating again. Unfortunately Dr E, my psychiatrist, seems very anti medication for me, so I know she is not very likely to give it to me again, so I decided to ask Dr O. This was possibly a tad manipulative, as I know damn well that Dr E deals with my medication, but I thought I had more chance of getting it from Dr O so I was going to ask anyway. She said I didn't look like I had gained weight (bullshit), and looked it up in her little pill book and said that loss of appetite wasn't even listed as a side effect, so I made her google it, as I had done this and found that it apparently does help with weight loss, but I couldn't remember what I had googled, and she didn't find anything that said that, so I think she thinks I am imagining it anyway. I thought she was going to give it to me, but then she said that I am seeing Dr E in 3 weeks, and could I not wait until then and talk to her about it, and if she said no, then next time I saw her we could talk about it again. I did whine slightly and try to persuade her to prescribe it now, but she wouldn't. The bloody frustrating thing is that I know I have some somewhere from when I took it before, but I can't bloody find it. I could of course order them from a health shop or online or something, as Tryptophan is just an amino acid, not a 'real' drug, but since I know that the prescription version makes me lose weight, AND I get my prescriptions free, I want it on prescription ideally. But if Dr E says no I will just order it online.

I miss L. It is still 6 days until I see her, and she is the only person I trust to talk to at the moment. I fucking hate attachment. Why do I only get attached to people who I can never have a real relationship with, like therapists, or Doctors, or when I was younger teachers? Why can't I form an attachment to someone who can genuinely care about me in return? I want L to care about me. I want her to take me home with her and look after me and adopt me. Which of course is never going to happen, and is also a complete contradiction to my saying earlier that I wished people would stop caring about me and let me go. I really do confuse myself. I also really wish that I could see L more than once a week, and I genuinely don't think that is just because I am attached to her. It just goes so quickly, and I have more to talk about than can fit in that time, especially because of the way our sessions tend to go (bit of general chat, recommending books to each other, moaning about the NHS etc). We do virtually always run over, which makes up for that stuff, but even so, there just isn't time. I usually write stuff during the week, about how I am feeling and what I am thinking etc, which she then reads, as she finds it useful to actually see how I am feeling at times when I am not there, because my memory is atrocious, and so although I may be able to say 'Oh, tuesday was crap, I felt awful', I won't remember what I was feeling and thinking that made it awful etc, so I suppose it gives her more insight. And I try to be as honest as possible when I am writing, and so it does mean that I end up writing about things that I possibly wouldn't talk about. So anyway, she reads what I have written and we talk about some of it, and then that kind of takes up most of the session. I feel like I need another session a week to talk more in depth about some of the things that come up. She has said that she is going to start reading what I have written in the previous week, and make her own notes on it etc, which I can then read the next session to make sure that we aren't missing out on anything I have written that may be significant, and so I can see her observations on it etc, which might be interesting. But I just feel like I need more time. I want to ask if there is any chance I could see her twice a week, but I know the answer is likely to be no, so there doesn't seem much point, plus I would be a bit embarassed asking.

I had a Diazepam when I started writing this, so am feeling marginally calmer now. I may attempt sleep. This was rather long again. Ah well.