Long Awaited Update

Clearly I've been slacking when it's come to writing my blog and I apologise for that. I just don't really have much to say if I'm being brutally honest! So let's just do this in bullet points before I rant on eh?

• My CPN may be leaving soon, oh what fun that's going to be..
• My little brother is a demon.. quite literally, although I've only found out after 16 years. FML.
• My binge/purge behaviour is out of control..
• My medication isn't working, it sucks ass tbh.

Think that's about it.. I'm hoping to get a volunteer job as an Animal Encounter Assistant which should be good. At least it'll get me out of the house which is what I need ;D

I've been offline for a while but now my Facebook, Twitter, blog and Formspring are all back and in action. Yayayay. Tempted to start making YouTube videos but I have no idea what about.. I've done like.. one.. and that was for Self Injury Awareness Day and it was a pretty crap first video in my opinion but life goes on doesn't it. Yes. I'll answer my own question there as I'm obviously that cool.

That's about it of my life right now :3 Just to let you know I AM BACK. Glad you obviously didn't miss me too much ;)

xoxo.

Facebook

Don't get me wrong, Facebook is useful and it can relieve intense bursts of boredom. However, when it comes to my 'alter egos', some of them want Facebook too. Why? Maybe so that they can be known. They're ready for people to know about them. I don't think I am though. I already feel like a freak. I think I'm going to need to think about this. Who knows? Maybe it could actually work out. 

Who Am I?

I've found myself doing bizarre things that I would never do normally. For one thing, I've bleached my hair. I never fancied myself as a blonde. I always stuck with dark colours. I don't know what happened but I felt the overwhelming urge. Then, this morning, I found myself dressing in pink. Why? I have no idea. To me, 'pink' is regarded as an extreme swear word; worse than using the word 'c***'... 

PG made me start to wonder. He saw my bleached hair, the punk hairstyle, the bright pink jeans... he said "Have you got someone new who's popped up inside you?" I hadn't thought of this as an explanation for my actions. However, it got me thinking. This has happened before and soon after, another person inside me randomly popped up inside my consciousness. I hadn't known about them before then. What if that's happening? But then the question is... why now?

It's Dark

Only a quick blog note. It's been a week, I have hardly anything to say. Well, that's a lie. I have a lot to say, just no way or no words to be able to say it.

It's cold. It's dark. I can't see the sunshine. I can't even see a light. 

How would you feel if all you know had been torn away? Everything you believed that was right, was all wrong. It's difficult. It's hard. It's frustrating not being able to understand; who to trust, who to speak to, who to believe. Your whole life disappears and you're left in a corner, confused, disorientated, misunderstood, alone, isolated.

New Goals

I was meant to post yesterday but somehow I never got around to it. I think I was caught up too much in my own thoughts to do anything. I don't think I even came online, which for me is a weird thing to happen!

Finished week 4 of group. Only week 4? It feels like forever! In a good way. I think. It's really intense but in some ways it's helping. All of us patients are seeing each other 3 times a week and it's amazing. None of us has yet missed a session, even though we've had 12 sessions. I'm quite surprised at this. The only other group I've done was when I was under the care of CAMHS. I did DBT (Dialectic Behaviour Therapy) for a year and that involved a group session once a week. From each session to the next you never knew who was going to turn up, if anyone else was going to at all! It might be why this adult group is helping me, everyone's turning up, it's a stable and safe environment, and I get along really well with the other patients. Go me! :)

I've managed to set out my reward scale for losing weight. I've put on weight in the last few months and in the last couple of weeks I've vowed to get back down to 77lb. Or less. I'm not holding that as a deadline as last time I was that weight I wanted to be lower... but for now that is my goal. When I get back to that weight I've decided I'm going to get a tattoo as a reward. Obviously, I have rewards at certain points to keep me motivated to lose the weight but that's my ultimate reward. I think it's very motivating. I am desperate to get this tattoo! I've wanted one for months! But considering I've waited months, I can wait a little longer until I've lost the weight.

I'm not isolating myself so much at the moment. I mean, I'm not really communicating very much with the rest of my foster family but I'm at least spending some time downstairs; even if it's only sat at the dining room table with my laptop and headphones in my ears. The good thing about this house is that we have an open plan kitchen/dining room/lounge. So wherever I'm sitting downstairs there's normally someone else around, whether it be cooking in the kitchen or fast asleep on the sofa.

I got my guitar out. It's been stuffed in my wardrobe for several weeks but I got it out again. I even wrote a couple of songs which I think are pretty okay. I'm not the most fantastic singer or player in the world but I am pretty good. Although, I freeze up instantly if I think anyone's listening or within earshot. This is a bit of a bummer as it kinda limits my ability to play at full volume. I have to dumb down the tone a little which makes it more difficult to sing or play. When no one else is upstairs and I'm sat in my room though, full power to me ;)

Hope you're all well. I am still reading everyone's blogs, I'm just not commenting very much. Don't think that's because I don't care, I really do. I just have very limited time in regards to getting online. I may be downstairs instead of in my room but I'm not actually online that much, I can't be dealing with it. Especially Facebook! Oh. My. God. Don't get me started on that. Some people on there... in my opinion they need to be shot. I'll get onto that at some other time otherwise this post is going to be outrageously long!

Ciao for now, mi amigos. x

Isolated

Oh. My. God. I've been sucked away into my own world. I don't mean that in the figurative sense either. I mean it quite literally. I haven't told anyone though. I'm scared shitless of everything that is going on. Staying in my room is very isolating as I have no 'real' people to communicate with. That's not my fault though. I'm scared that Sally will come out. For those that don't know Sally is one of my 'others'. She's destructive and violent and full of raw anger. I'm scared that she'll hurt my foster parents, my foster family. I can't let that happen. If I stay in my room, the only body she can hurt is mine. The only things she can hurt are the inanimate objects scattered around my bedroom.

I can't tell anyone. I know I'm not crazy. It may sound like it, but if you lived with me, you'd know that isn't the case. I can think logically. I can make the right judgements. Except when I'm like this. To be honest, I prefer my own world sometimes. It's a nightmare, I do admit that. But I'd rather be living in a nightmare rather than allow Sally to hurt my family. If that happened, I'd never forgive myself. It wouldn't have been me that did it, but I'd blame myself and hold myself totally responsible. I'd move out. I wouldn't stay in here and keep my family in danger. It's not right. I'd rather suffer than allow that to happen.

I had an appointment with AC this morning, my care-coordinator and psychiatric nurse. I never said a word about any of this. She knows I've isolated myself to my room almost incessantly since Saturday morning, considering it's now Wednesday evening. I can't do it. I don't want to take my medication, I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to do ANYTHING. I can't do it. I feel like giving up. The thought that my family could be hurt is absolutely petrifying to me. I prefer sitting in my bedroom, hoping that it'll never happen. I've managed to last over a year without Sally meeting LG and PG directly (however, they do know about her and the others) but I don't know how much longer this can go on for.

R.I.P. Jynx

My little brother broke the news to me today that my bunny died. Surprisingly, I've found myself more upset than I thought I would be. He was barely 3 years old. He was a dwarf lop-eared bunny and I had him from 8 weeks old. He was my baby! I got him when I was discharged from The Priory in April 2009. I asked for him and my parents agreed as I needed something therapeutic. I find animals very relaxing. He did me the world of good, motivated me to get up in the mornings as I had to feed him and clean him. I loved spending time with him. 

While I was living at home, Jynx was a house-rabbit and lived in my room in his cage and had free-rein for most of the day before going into his cage at bedtime. Whenever I was in hospital or wherever, my little brother or someone would take care of him. I loved Jynx as he always had time to snuggle with me and never judged me for what I did or who I was. When I was put in the children's home, he came along with me and stayed there. Near the end of my time there, he went back with my parents and my little brother as I was having a bad depressive episode. I didn't want to be separated from him but I had to make the decision that was best for him. If he'd stayed with me, he wouldn't have been looked after properly. I didn't want him to suffer.

He's been with my mother and little brother for just over a year. Whenever I've visited I've always found time to sit with Jynx. He never forgot who I was and always had time for a cuddle with me. It made me adore him even more. I always thought he'd forget me if I was ever away from him for more than a few days but that was never the case.

Today, my little brother told me he'd passed away in his sleep. They found him when my mother went out to feed him. I'm devastated. But why? I've only seen him on a few occasions in the last year. I thought the bond would've been weakened. It hasn't. Somehow it was stronger than when I was with him. Whether he felt the same, I have no idea. He's a bunny. Maybe he was just happy to be fed and given some quality time, no matter who the person was. I'd like to think that he had a bond with me too. I did have him from when he was a baby. Attachments grow more quickly and more strongly if you get a pet from a very young age. I got him as soon as he was able to be away from the pet store at 8 weeks. I had to wait a week or two before I could take him home but I was prepared to wait.

I miss you, Jynx. Another loss to add to my pile. That doesn't mean I won't miss you any less.

R.I.P. Jynx; 04/2009 - 02/2012.

Happy Valentines Day... :'(

<3 xoxo.

Fuck My Weight

I've suddenly managed to get a newfound urge to get totally strict and serious about my weight again. I was slacking slightly. I wasn't eating as much as I should but I was allowed myself to eat more than I normally allow myself to have. I did put on weight, especially when I went out with my little brother last Monday. Mcdonalds... popcorn... it was obscene. I didn't even throw up! I'm now on the 37th day of not purging via vomiting. That's a massive achievement.

I've sunk into a depression that I can't get out of. I have been trying but the voices are worse and it stops me bothering to fight. It totally drains my energy. I've spent the majority of time in my room, only going downstairs to either make myself a hot milky beverage, take my medication or eat something. Yesterday I had less than 700 calories, that includes fluid. I was very happy with this. Somehow this depression has got me back into the realisation of how good it feels to hardly eat and how good it feels to lose weight. I'd forgotten. I'd been too wrapped up in trying to eat somewhat healthily. Now I've realised, fuck that!

I want to disappear.

February Blues

I was particularly suicidal this morning and was in the process of hanging myself from the curtain pole in my bedroom. Fox intervened as a favour for David; these are two of my 'others'. I didn't realise this until I looked at my clock and realised it was 9.30AM and I was stood in my bedroom with them talking to me. I'd tried to hang myself at 6.30AM. Three hours of my time had just disappeared. When I realised what the time was it was time for me to go downstairs and get ready to leave for my therapy group. I wasn't going to hang myself with the possibility of being found before I was actually dead...

LG came to pick me up from my group at 12.30pm and I said on the way back for her not to let me up to my room unless I was just nipping up for a few minutes to get something. If I'm in there for longer than five minutes she had my permission to start harrassing me to get me downstairs again. Of course I didn't actually specify why I didn't want to be allowed to my room. I don't trust myself in the slightest at the moment. Problem is, people are hesitant about talking if they're suicidal. Normally it means you're dragged into a hospital and kept there until you start smiling and pretending you're okay again. Not something that I intend on doing this weekend thank you very much.

February is not a good time for me. It's coming up to Valentine's Day which is, in itself, traumatic for me as it's also my dad's birthday. Then I also have the anniversary of having my miscarriage. Plus I've got all this court investigation in the forefront of my mind.

J called yesterday and said she's arranged the intermediary for my court proceedings and for my video interview. My vid interview has now been delayed by two weeks (it was supposed to be on 20th) so that my intermediary can come over and chat to me and LG and sort out what help I need for both the interview and for court when I give evidence as a witness. He's from Coventry or something like that. Apparently there's only about 30 intermediaries in the whole country. I find this totally outrageous if I'm honest, but at least I'm getting help. It's a shame my video interview is now going to be delayed by a couple of weeks. I'm having a hard enough time as it is, let alone having an extra two weeks to sit and mull everything over. My weakness is over-analyzing things. I think WAY TOO MUCH. Sometimes it's a good thing but more often than not it's very bad.

Society Sucks

And from this point forward I will hopefully never touch a cigarette again. I have my new skycig. Go me! It's been an hour so far of giving up smoking. Not very long I know but we all have to start somewhere. Wish me luck. :)

Group was disastrous today. One of the patients got angry and walked out. Hopefully we'll see him again on Thursday. One of the main trigger points for the awkwardness in the group today was our opening exercise. We had to say something good about society. Now, in my opinion in regards to mental health, society is partly to blame for some of our difficulties. There is stigma attached to mental illness, the media doesn't portray it in a very good light and often there are stories about schizophrenics assaulting people or depressed people committing a murder-suicide with their families. Yes, people with mental illness can commit crimes but they don't commit crimes any more than the average person. If anything, people with mental illness are more likely to hurt themselves rather than other people. But hey, what newspaper is going to write that? It doesn't exactly make a good story does it? But that's fact. The topic of mental illness can make people feel uncomfortable. The health service isn't exactly excellent and the welfare of people, in general not just in regards to mental illness, isn't the main purpose of decisions that are made. Take the benefit cuts for example. Everyone who is entitled to them and needs them to get by is going to be effected, or has already been effected. Our society makes no sense and my view is that the country is going downhill. It has been since David Cameron took charge of the country, and since before that even.

I'm not saying that the prime minister is entirely to blame for society as it stands. He's not, totally. Getting back to the topic of mental illness, it's ignorance that takes control of people's behaviour towards the mentally ill, be it conscious or sub-conscious behaviour. Society has totally failed me in helping me accept my diagnosis. Society is partly to blame for it. There are other factors, of course. And I'm not saying that society is totally to blame for any consequence of it's actions. But it isn't exactly the best. No one is happy with their society. Look at the road tax people pay for their cars! That is supposed to go towards paying for the roads to be kept well-constructed. It gets paid and then divided into the various county councils. Do they use it to pay to repair the roads? Barely. In the end it's all about making money. I think it's time society needs to change. For the better. Right now.

Disordered Eating - Unexplainable

1. One day you're eating 200 calories, the next day you could be eating 2,000.


2. You can lose 10lbs in two weeks and gain 12lbs in the next week.


3. On one day you fast, the next day you eat a week's worth of food. Then comes the decision purge or no purge? On good days, you do. On bad days you eat more and just crawl into bed.


4. You keep telling yourself tomorrow will be different. It never is.


5. Even if you try to diet somewhat 'normally', you lose nothing because your metabolism is so screwed up because you're treating your body like shit.


6. You're too fat for help but not fat enough to be considered 'normal'.


7. On a good day you might go out to eat but then you're instantly triggered by seeing a girl ordering a salad with the dressing separate.


8. You still rule out the "bad" foods - like blotting off grease on food, eating toast or sandwiches without any butter, drinking diet coke etc.


9. After a major binge/purge you're scared to even drink water with the fear that you might have put on weight.


10. You're in a constant battle trying to decide whether it's emptiness or food that you crave the most.

End of Week 2

I've just finished week number 2 of my ten-week therapy group. It's still going quite well although some of the sessions have been pretty intense.

Thursday and Friday involved us having to go through various relationships we have, both good and bad, with different things and people. Obviously, I can't go into what the other patients spoke about as I don't want to break their confidentiality but what I can talk about is what I ended up bringing up when it was my turn to go through stuff.

I spoke about various things, starting off with the positives and ending with the negatives. My positives involved my supportive foster family, the dog, the fact I now have a stable home, my art, poetry and music, my older sister and my two nephews (her sons), my older brother and my niece (his daughter who was only born a couple of weeks ago!), and my little brother, JH. To be honest, my little brother could go into both the positive and the negative aspects of things. I worry a lot about JH as he's living with my mum and her new boyfriend. It can trigger strong emotions and flashbacks. That being said, I love him to bits and he's the one thing that I feel has kept me alive.

My negative relationships involved my mum, dad, my 'alters' and self-destructive behaviours i.e. going missing, getting into dangerous situations like on railway lines or bridges, self-harming, suicidal behaviours, behaviours that my 'alters' do etc. Along with this I put in lack of food, lack of sleep, lack of money, lack of friends, lack of education, lack of employment.. all of which link in with each other. If you don't eat and sleep properly, it exacerbates the symptoms of mental illness, you can't concentrate on education, get into employment, make money or involve yourself in social situations. It all adds up. Each raindrop which then leads to the flood as it were.

I also spoke a little about the court proceedings that were going on as I was asked if not having contact with my parents was my decision. I didn't specify what the court proceedings were about but I did mention that it was to do with my father's behaviour towards me and JH. It isn't my choice not to have contact with my dad, that's the choice of social services and the police. Having contact with my mum is a combination of my decision, social services and the foster agency. Social services and the foster agency were against me seeing my mother in person, of course they couldn't stop me if I'd truly wanted to but they wouldn't provide any kind of transport if that were the case. Considering they live in a different county, transport is quite difficult if you have limited money, besides getting the train which everyone is very wary of given some of my dangerous behaviour. It was my choice, however, not to have contact with her via phone or text right now. I don't know how long this will go on for but I'm hoping that when we have contact again it'll be a healthy form of contact rather than backfiring on me and causing all kinds of problems and out-of-reality episodes.

It was hard to talk about all this. It felt very weird as I've only known these people for not even two weeks. It was a good kind of weird though. It may only have been six two-hour sessions together but somehow we're getting along very well. It's a safe environment and very non-judgemental. I didn't go into much detail but I gave a rough outline.

My point is... talking about things is positive. Yes, it's difficult. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's not going to be the easiest thing you've ever had to do. But, if done with the right people, it can help massively. I felt a load off of my shoulders. It may not have made things any easier to deal with but at least it's not stuck in my head and it's out in the open within the group. I'm not as open as I am with LG & PG but it's only been a couple of weeks after all. If you feel s***, then talk, talk, talk. Find someone supportive. Anyone. But don't stay quiet. It WILL backfire on you. Even if it's difficult, give it a go. You'll never know how it'll help you if you don't try.

Real Family

It's now the beginning of week two for my group therapy. Everyone's gelled quite well. It's nice to feel supported.

Two things struck chords with me today that I wanted to mention.

We were asked to share what supporting relationships we had. My main one was my foster carers. They're with me through thick and thin, even when I feel like I'm a burden to them, even at my worst when there's nothing they can do besides be there, feed me, and make sure I take my medication. I wouldn't be alive without them, especially during times where I have serious hallucination problems and go missing, placing myself in highly dangerous situations.

The second thing we were asked to share was one thing we felt we'd achieved. I went totally soppy and almost cried. I felt my best achievement was finding a family. A family that cared for me and supported me, who accept me for who I am, not for who they want me to be. To me, family isn't about genetics. Family is about feeling loved, supported, cared for, part of a loving group of people. My foster siblings treat me like a little sister. LG and PG, my foster parents, treat me like their own daughter. The other boy who's fostered feels like a kid brother to me.

My parents have failed me. One day, I hope the relationship with my mother will be good and healthy. For the time being, it's not and won't be for a while. I wish that when I get through this and when my illness is stable, I'll be able to build bridges with her and put things behind us. Genetics and biology don't automatically make you parents. My foster carers have earned the right for me to call them my 'parents'. Just as any other foster carers or carers that have adopted. Their families aren't based on genetics. It's built on love and support and kindness. To me, that's what family means. Genetics means nothing. You have to earn the right and prove that you can be a parent and that you can support and be there for your children no matter what the situation.

It'll be a long and hard road for me as I go through the court proceedings and as I go through the long-term psychiatric treatment. I don't think I'll ever be fully "cured". I don't need to be. All I need is to be able to get my life back on track and be "stable". A diagnosis isn't the be all and the end all. My foster family has given me the starting point to get back onto a path where I can lead a meaningful and fulfilling life; to get better and be healthy; to build up my relationship with my mother again and challenge things that have happened in the past.

It won't be easy. Nothing worthwhile ever is. What I do know, is that even though I'll need long-term treatment and medication, I will get through it. I'll get over this. I will get better. I'll be 'me' again. I hope I can do this, I'm willing to accept the support I have. This new group has given me some kind of optimism about the future. I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel yet, but I am walking along it. Maybe the time will come where I'll reach the end of it. For now, I'll keep going.

Adult Diagnosis

LH, my shrink, finally managed to ring me today, she was off yesterday. I needed answers. I don't know whether she really gave them to me, but she did specify that I was diagnosed with "Emotionally Unstable" (aka Borderline) Personality Disorder. I don't know whether I agree with this yet. I don't know whether I truly wanted to know, but I guess at least what I suffer with has a name now. Maybe I'll finally get the answers I need.

What she didn't help me with was the fact that I needed to control my 'others' in regards to my video interview and court proceedings. She said that I would need long-term psychiatric treatment, but in the short-term I had to talk to AC, my CPN. Hopefully she'll be able to help me. LG, my foster mother, will hopefully be allowed into my interview with me. The most likely 'others' to come out during these times would be either Sally (the angry, aggressive leader) or Jimmy (the sad 4-year-old boy). It will be plainly obvious to everyone if one of them comes out, but I'm hoping LG will be allowed in so she can try and get 'me' back again. It'll be a little more difficult in court if Sally or Jimmy reveal themselves as LG will most likely be put as a witness so won't be able to sit with me. Awkward.

Intense group today. I couldn't really concentrate as the voices were talking and to be quite honest I had my mind on other things. That being said, however, it was quite eye opening. We learned about 'selfish/unselfishness', 'self-esteem', 'confidence' and 'resilience'. Turns out that all the patients there are quite resilient, or have been in the past, even if they aren't now. From my own point of view, my resilience was top levels through childhood, although sometimes I do wish my brain had developed different coping methods rather than using dissociation. But now, my resilience is extremely poor. I only have to have a small knock to kick me back to the ground again. It takes an awful lot of effort to get up. I'm hoping this'll improve as the weeks go on.

Week 1 of the group over. A weekend of recuperation and hopefully I can be up and running again by Tuesday. I'm absolutely exhausted. I never realised how emotionally-draining it all was going to be. Two hours, three days a week is intense and absolutely exhausting. All I want to do is sleep. My dissociation is a bit worse at the moment but I'm hoping it'll improve as the weeks go by. The memories brought up yesterday when J visited have made things slightly more easily triggered, but hopefully it'll calm down. 

Hope you're all having a good week.

xoxo.

Liason Officer

Dreadful day.

It started off okay. I had my group again this morning. It was a lot less awkward than Tuesday because everyone knew each other and we all have mutual respect, even though this was only the second session. More conversation and less awkward silence today. Eheh.

I spoke up about, what has now been explained to me, is a severe form of dissociation. Having different people living inside me is very difficult but now the group knows about it, it might be easier to deal with. Turns out a lot of us have thoughts and feelings in common. Some also spoke about feeling as if they had another person inside them so they can relate to some degree. Although as far as I'm aware, I'm the only one who LITERALLY does. Even so, I don't feel so alone about the whole ordeal. My psychiatrist should be ringing me tomorrow, I'm going to be asking her for answers.

I came back from the group in good spirits. I'm very black and white in regards to my mood. I'm either quite depressed or close to a manic episode.

The liason officer dealing with the case regarding the sexual abuse I and my brother experienced through childhood came over today. She only left a couple of hours ago. I'm now in a depressive mode. Everything was explained to me and, theoretically, I should be doing another video interview on 20th February. This will be my third. I did one in 2009 which I withdrew by saying I made everything up (pressure from my mother, and I was sectioned at the time), and one in 2010 which the CPS didn't go ahead with because of the state of my mental health. I'm very anxious about it. Now I know that my case will definitely be going to court, it's put everything into a somewhat more real situation.

J, the liason officer, is a lovely lady on first impressions. She's going to speak to the intermediary team about support in regards to being a witness in court. It'll be a highly anxious time and that will be the most obvious time where my dissociation may kick in and my 'others' may start coming out. This may even happen when I do my video interview, which will be very awkward as I won't realise until I'm "me" again. That could be an interesting and confusing situation to be in.

All in all, I'm now in shit mode. Halfway through J being here, I started dissociating, although not as severely as usual. I was still myself, but my awareness was totally gone. I was in my 'other world' talking to someone in a courtyard. I don't know how that works but J and my foster carers knew I was switching off. I just didn't tell them where I'd gone during those times.

That's enough for me blabbing, at least for today!

Take care, readers.

xoxo.

New Therapy Group

I started my new group therapy yesterday. It was actually a lot better than I thought it was going to be. My main concern was going into a room full of new people. Obviously, to protect the confidentiality of everyone else involved in the group, I won't be naming any names.

I was greeted by the guy who runs the group, CA, and taken into the room with someone else who had been waiting to go in. On arrival there were two other people in the room already. There were going to be six patients there altogether with two members of staff.

The term "Never judge a book by it's cover" is most important when it comes to groups like these. Even though there were only six of us, we were all entirely different. Although in some ways I guess we were similar. Needing support and hoping to have at least improved some aspect of our mental health by the end of the ten weeks.

The group is three days a week, for two hours per session, for ten weeks. It's pretty intense but I think it may help me. The problem with this is, I coped with it yesterday. The voices have got worse today, I may have to bring up the topic when I go back to group tomorrow if they haven't calmed down. I don't want the other patients to feel I'm deliberately ignoring them or feel uneasy if I'm staring at them constantly while they're talking, just so I can focus on what they are saying rather than what the voices are trying to say to me.

On first impression, it seems okay. Even if I don't feel it'll improve my mental health, I've at least met new people. I got along quite well with all of them. The one link we all had was a sense of humour. It's strange that in the mental health side of things, everyone seems to have developed the same kind of humour. It's nice that the group isn't going to be serious and that there will be some fun and joking sides of things.

Overall I think it'll be okay. I'd phoned CA the day before and explained I was having a rough time taking my medication. The voices are still arguing and I'd been scared shitless earlier that morning. I'd gone to pick up my prescription and after picking it up had a black spot and found myself a fair distance away from the house. I had no recollection of getting there and it just proved to me that the voices really can control me whenever they want. I think it's some kind of severe form of dissociation but no one has really explained it to me.

CA helped and I explained that I was in a lose-lose situation. My foster mother, LG, had spoken to me and said "Keri, we can't force the medication down your throat. We can only try and persuade you, but if you don't take it then you'll end up at Callington Road and we don't want that happening." For those that don't know, Callington Road is short for Callington Road Hospital which is an adult psychiatric hospital. Of course I don't want to go there! So by not taking my medication, there is a high chance of me being admitted there whether I liked it or not. By taking my medication, it angers the voices and they may end up doing something incredibly stupid, or being so loud that I end up doing something incredibly stupid, and I'll end up locked away in there anyway. That's what I meant by the 'lose-lose situation'.

CA said that considering the situation I was in, he thought the group was really going to help me. To get to the group though, and be calm enough to be able to get there, I was going to have to take my medication. He said not to think about it and to make my main aim to be able to walk through the door into the group. I managed that aim and got into the group, taking my medication also. Go me!

I hope the group helps. From hearing what the other patients have said, they all seem to have varying symptoms which fit with many of mine. I have varied symptoms but no one has given me a diagnosis so all I can go by is what they talk about. All I know is that I almost cried at one of the patients yesterday as she explained about what she was going through. I related to some of it, although I didn't say so. I didn't feel comfortable to say anything about it at the time. Hopefully that'll change once I'm more used to the other patients.

Pointless Shrink Appt.

I met my new psychiatrist, LH, from the adult services today. Bearing in mind I was 18 in October, I've only just met her. I wasn't even supposed to be seeing her until February but somehow she managed to suddenly come up with an appointment as I'm in crisis mode. WHAT A FUCKING WASTE OF MY TIME.

I don't like her. I can hardly speak properly as I can't concentrate as Sally etc (the voices I hear) were being a right pain in the ass. I got no diagnosis, no change in medication, nothing. There was actually no point in me even going. The only thing I got out of it was meeting this woman who was now in charge of my care.

What annoyed me most? She asked how my sleeping was. I said it was terrible. It had been alright when I was on the diazepam but I'm off of that now and my zolpidem doesn't work in the slightest so I had about an hour last night. I keep my music on so that I can try and fend away the voices so I'm not focused on them while I'm trying to sleep. It's never on overly loud, it's just for background noise. Laying in silence in a semi-dark room (I have a night light as I tend to have nightmares or hallucinations) is never the best idea when trying to ignore persistent voices that try to keep you awake. Her answer to sleeping better? "Try sleeping with your music off". THAT WON'T HELP ME IN THE SLIGHTEST. The topic of me hearing voices never even came up. I couldn't bring it up myself as I'm having great difficulty in speaking. The brain is whirring. I can see the sentences in my head but when it comes to saying them out loud.. well.. it's difficult.

Because of hardly being able to vocalise what I needed to, I couldn't ask about my diagnosis, I couldn't ask for a medication change, I couldn't ask her to help me stop Sally etc from talking, I couldn't ask her to help with my agitation. SHE DID FUCK ALL. Her conclusion was to wait it out and carry on taking the medication I'm currently on.

She did nothing to help try and keep me calm and gave me no advice on how I can try and calm myself down. I found this unbelievable. I was pacing up and down the waiting room when my psychiatrist and CPN came to get me for my appointment, and while I was sat in that room my leg was twitching like a pneumatic drill, I was writhing my hands together and rocking. Most of the time I wasn't aware I was doing this but sometimes I noticed and realised how much I was actually moving. She even commented on the fact I was quite agitated. Why comment if you can do nothing to help?

Total waste of my time. I didn't even want to leave the house this morning. My CPN, AC, sat there and said nothing. I at least thought she'd try and cut in with some comments to help me along considering how difficult I'm finding it to talk even in simple sentences. But nothing. Total silence. The only comment she made was that I'd "been like this for a couple of weeks". Is that helpful to me? NO IT FUCKING ISN'T.

I'm on my own again. Fuck mental health services. I want my old psychiatrist back. I want my old care co-ordinator back. They knew me well. I know I can't go back to them as they work in the child and adolescent services. I want to discharge myself from the adult mental health services. I still feel like I'm in "no name = no cure" land and I'm still living in a nightmare. I still don't know when it's going to end. My psychiatrist SUCKS. My old psychiatrist was brilliant in regards to trying to sort out medication and help me through things. Once she'd started me on medication again she made sure she saw me every week or so. This is the first time I've met my adult services psychiatrist, and probably will be the last.

I'm so angry and upset right now. I thought I'd get the support. It's obvious I need it right now, and it's not my fault that I can't ask properly. It's not my fault my head is whirring at such a speed that I can't keep up. It's not my fault that Sally etc are totally cutting down my concentration levels. I can't function.

The only bit that was reassuring about that whole time I was in that god forsaken place (I was there for 50 minutes of hell..) was when the guy that is running the group I'm starting next week, CA, came up to me and said that he knew I was having a very difficult time and that if I needed him at all then just to get my foster carer to ring up and give him a call. THAT WAS THE ONLY REASSURING PART. And he's not even one of my workers. I mean what the actual fuck? I get more help from someone who doesn't work directly with me than I do from the people that are supposed to be looking after me.

I HATE THIS. FUCK YOU SHRINK.

-endrant.

Nightmare World

It's been over two weeks of hell and things still don't seem to be getting any easier. I find it hard to string a sentence together when I'm talking to people. Even now, as I write this, it's taking an awfully long time to even get the words into place.

I wish I could wake up from this nightmare. I don't even know what it's called. I wouldn't call it a psychotic episode as I don't have a psychotic disorder. I haven't been diagnosed even though I've had intensive support from mental health services for 3 years and been in various institutions and hospitals.. which in my eyes makes it seem like "no name = no cure". When will this end?

My memory of the past couple of weeks is blurred. But I do remember the fear, in the past and in the present.  Right now. It's constantly there. You're terribly alone as no one else is inside the world you're living in. The mind plays tricks on you and logic means nothing. You don't know what to believe any more, you don't even know whether you even really exist. Time means nothing, it passes by and is meaningless. Night and day just turns into nothing. Food and drink turns into nothing. You want to sit in a corner and cry, talking to the voices, not eat or drink, not take any medication, just not communicate with anyone.

I know I have to take my medication. At the moment I'm still taking my diazepam, antipsychotics and antidepressants but it's still a battle. Twice a day every day I'm sat at that table staring at the pills that the voices are demanding me not to take. It takes every bit of mental energy to fight them and my energy is lowering, even with the outstanding support my foster carers and foster family are giving me. I don't think I've got the fight left in me any more, but yet here I am. I'm not thinking about tomorrow or next week. I'm taking it hour by hour. I can barely function. I need answers, I need support, I need help, I need to vent. Maybe that's why I reopened this blog, I don't quite know why I'm writing it. I'm not sure who will read it or if it'll ever be found, but what I do know is that it helps to get things written down. It's frustrating when your mind is clouded; when it takes forever to think of the words, put them together in a sentence without jumbling them up.

Only two days left to get through before seeing my psychiatrist. Can I do this? I have no idea. I'm not going to think that far ahead. The voices are strong, I am weak. It's taken me nearly 4 hours to write this and now I'm going to stop. I'm exhausted, I'm frustrated, I want to go to sleep and never wake up. I'm on my own in my own nightmare world and no one seems to be able to get inside it with me to help me get out.

Disconnected

It's hard to be in a house full of people when you'd rather spend time on your own. Isolating yourself always seems the nicer option in the short-term, but in the long term not so much.

Hearing voices and seeing things that other people can't see is like living in a nightmare. The problem is, in a nightmare you can wake up. In reality, once the voices take hold of you there's no turning back. It's a constant battle that's never easy.

I didn't think I needed my antipsychotics. I didn't think I needed my antidepressants either. Six days go by and I've ended up in hell. I've been living like this for five days. The worst of it being needing nearly 20 stitches to sort out some major self-harm that turned out to be only the beginning, of what seems to be some kind of horrible scene of a horror movie that seems like it'll never end. With my agitated state their idea is to keep me drugged up with diazepam. It's nice to feel relaxed but it doesn't make the world of hell you are stuck in go away. If anything it makes it worse. You are in a stupor and have very little energy to fight back and get your life back on track again. Yes, it relaxes you. Yes, I can sleep away my hell. But in the long-term, it won't make it any easier to deal with my voices or the things I see. I'm weaning off of the diazepam now. Two more days and I won't be having it anymore and back in full blown hell I'll be; unable to sleep away this unreal existence.

The voices want control of me. I want control of me. We're in a full on battle. My foster carers, LG & PG, are incredibly supportive and have managed to help me take my antipsychotics and antidepressants along with my diazepam; even if it takes an hour to calm me down or my tablets end up being thrown across the room.

The voices are still fighting for control. I don't know who will win. I don't know who I am. All I hope is that I beat this. I have an appointment with my CPN and psychiatrist on Friday. I can hold out until then. I hope I'll be given answers.