Monday, 25 August 2014

I wish I was allergic to peanuts...

People comment about being worried that they are feeling suicidal, I guess maybe I have been suicidal for such a long time that I am completely used to it, that it is just who I am. Perhaps I want to want to live, but I don’t want to live, I want to be suicidal. All the time. When I am not feeling actively suicidal I am plotting and planning, enabling myself for the next time I am hit with the god awful energy depression must-die-now rush that comes with a mixed episode.

I had a fairly hypomanic day, I unfortunately bought a whole stack of useless crap and knik knacks, then I got home and started coming down a bit, as I was making dinner and remembered that I ate a litre of icecream this morning for breakfast which along with the glass of wine I used to wash down my morning meds was like a weeks worth of calories for me. I chucked a mega tantrum (poor hubby) and went to bed crying just wanting to die, of course I couldn’t sleep and my mind was going a bazillion miles per hour, so I ended up getting up to watch a movie with hubby, couldn’t sit still and then started binge eating. Again. L

We went to bed after the movie but I still couldn’t sleep, plotting all the ways I could escape and off myself should my Psychologist/GP/Shrink try and commit me. Then I decided to combat the binging I would write a menu plan, so I got up and over the last few hours I have been simultaneously looking at you tube videos, facebook, the news, pintrest, writing lists of stuff I want to sell on e-bay, writing a menu plan for next week and now typing this. I don’t quite know how the browser in my 4yr old laptop is coping at the moment! (Shout out to Toshiba)

Bloody rapid cycling, its doing my head in, have to see the GP tomorrow morning, don’t want to confess my actual thoughts, maybe I should. If I do get locked up there are SO MANY things that will come with that that are worse than death, not that I am frightened of death anyway – when I took that overdose I didn’t regret it, even a few days later when I was warned my liver could fail – I was still hoping it would, I was high as a kite, happy as larry and still completely fine with the thought of impending death.
 I wish I was allergic to peanuts, imagine how easy that would be? Tombstone could read "She died with a snickers in her hand..."

Sunday, 24 August 2014

Run Away

Recently on a freezing winter night we were visited from my neighbour and good friends other half, he arrived very upset, my friends 14yr old daughter had decided to run away.

We live on bushy farmland in the middle of nowhere, so running away from home in the middle of winter is at the very minimum inviting hypothermia. I went looking and found her on the side of the road about half way between her house and ours (we live about 5km apart). She had a jacket and a backpack with all her most loved worldly possessions in it including lap top, iPod and a few clothes.

After a hell of a lot of convincing I managed to get her and her 45kg bag to come into my warm car and talk, she eventually opened up to me and apart from the usual teenage mother/daughter clashes I was saddened to hear how she has been bullied mercilessly at school. She has been very down for a long time and I think she would most definitely fit the criteria for depression.

As we talked, I told her how I was bullied horribly in school, and while I will never forget that things will get better and that even though it doesn’t feel like it now, high school is such a small part of life compared to the rest of adulthood. I made some suggestions of different coping strategies she could use while thinking in the back of my mind what a complete and utter hypocrite I am.

I tell her how it’s all going to get better yet the other part of my mind is still plotting my impending suicide. I remember thinking of her as I drove home after taking that overdose and hoping she wouldn’t find out why I had died, I felt guilty for lying to her – it doesn’t always get better.

Perhaps things will be different for her, perhaps she will be able to find the happier parts of life and cling to them. There is a window of opportunity where people will still look for and see the good things when they happen – you see this particularly in children - No matter what awful circumstances they are living in they grab onto the little sparks of light hoping everything will turn around. Unfortunately after enough times of your hopes getting dashed and nothing changing you eventually give up, your spirit broken and resigned to the fact that some things can’t be fixed.
Even as an adult, I have thought of running away often, mostly to save my family from the burden of living with me. But I also know that running away wont fix anything, I can't runaway from myself sadly and it would make the kids feel abandoned in a different way to the way death would.
*Sigh*.... I hate being like this, I am trying I want to try to get better or at least I want to want to...

Thursday, 21 August 2014

Suicide attempt and the week that followed

Hi people,

I have just uploaded the below posts which I had stored on my computer but never posted. I decided to upload them all and start doing this blog properly as in the past writing has been good therepy for me. If you are reading this in order I need to add a pretty big TRIGGER WARNING. If you have any thoughts of suicide AT ALL, this is NOT the blog to read. Stop, turn around and leave now!

Quick.... off you go!

I will wait.....

Ok, now that the crazies are gone ( I can say that cause they aren't supposed to still be reading),
The most recent post below was during a mixed transitional state which peaked out the next morning (Monday) when I couldn't handle being in my own skin anymore.

I tried to crash the car twice (ended up being harder than it sounds) and ended up just damaging it and then I went to work where I promptly lost the last of my marbles in the car park and ended up ODing on the only available substance I had with me at the time which was paracetamol, I took enough to do the deed and started feeling nauseous pretty quickly. I had been under the impression that it took several hours if not days to work so I was a bit taken aback by how fast I was affected.
I went into my work, told them I was sick and had to go and went back to the car.

I was quite disoriented at this point I drove (very stupid and unsafe decision) I wasn't sure where to go but was feeling increasingly unwell, I thought I would head out to a look out area I like around 40km from my small town, unfortunately (or fortunately upon reflection) I was getting dizzier and dizzier and realised I wasn't going to make it. I reached the small town before my small town and started vomiting uncontrollably, this is not ideal whilst driving and made a huge mess of the car while trying not to swerve into oncoming traffic.

The vomiting probably saved me as I think I threw up a large portion of what I had ingested, I managed to make it home and had a bit of a freak out regarding the children coming home from school and finding me, I even contemplated calling a friend to take me to hospital so that wouldn't happen but didn't want to risk them saving my life.

At this point all I could think about was crawling into bed, which I did and slept for what must have been a few hours. I woke up - this in its self upset me greatly - and promptly threw up again, lay in bed feeling god awful for a few more hours, started to feel more alive and pulled out the lap top to google how long liver failure takes etc and did a vlog entry.

Long story short, hubby came home and I had to confess due to my pitiful state, he was AMAZING about it ( I am SO lucky to have him) and took me to the GP. She took blood tests, organised hubby to stay with me and I managed to talk my way out of being sectioned although I could see she wasn't happy about it. I came home and started to feel better physically and mentally, went to bed and SLEPT until morning.

Tuesday I woke up manic, as you do, but physically fine, organised a week and a half off work and we went to the shops and bought some things we needed, hubby kept watch of my money spending and had lunch together and talked. It was actually a really nice day! That night I ended up in a mixed mood again and was starting to really freak out but was eventually able to contain it by running on the treadmill for half an hour with my headphones up full bore.

Wednesday I went out with a friend to the movies and was flying high but still reasonable, spent a bit too much money, ate too much and didn't care until later that evening but then as I was manic I continued to binge ALL night because I didn't go to sleep.

Thursday I went out by myself - I was manic as hell at this point and bought a STACK of things, ate too much, GAMBLED (very very naughty for me) luckily I ended up $200 richer. Went and looked at new cars I cant afford ( I am going to have care salesmen bothering me for months) Met a friend for coffee and headed to my GP appointment.

My GP has been awesomely trying to find me a new Psychiatrist and generally being very helpful. All my blood work came back ok even the liver function test - which was surprising.
So I have all these plans in place now for in case of more nervous breakdowns, my hubby has been given phone numbers and strategies for him to use on me if I happen to lose it when he is around.

Knowing myself, when I am in that state the chances of me calling anyone are pretty slim as I don't want help, I want to die. When you WANT to die, you don't tend to make phone calls to people who will stop that from happening.

Just glad to be still fairly hypomanic today (Friday) but not off my rocker and rested as I actually had a real full nights sleep last night!

I will leave it there, but that's an update on my mixed episode instant suicide attempt.

Can't take it anymore

Well that fucked up. I don’t know what the fuck I want right now, part of me is angry most of me is sad – suck at life, suck even more at death. I have EVERYTHING, the best life anyone could hope for so WHY don’t I want it? Why do I just want to dissolve away into nothingness?

Why when I ask that question does it not change my thoughts at all? I cant stop moving, thinking, I wanna run, I wanna scream and I want to curl up and go to sleep. My mood is varying between agitated as fuck and euphoric, I have been anxious all day because of ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOTHING! I have nothing at all to be sad, angry or anxious about. I should be euphoric all the bloody time, I have everything that everyone could ever want. I dont know! I cant fucking handle it, Im so damn shakey I just want the whole thing to end, except I SUCK at suicide. I keep remembering and forgetting everything, EVERYTHING from why I walked into a room to that its my sons birthday next week so WHY WOULD I TAKE THOSE TABLETS THEN????? I sure as shit don’t want help for it.

Followed by fuck I keep waking up and the tablets havnt bloody worked, I will take more… Oh wait its my sons birthday next week, I FUCKING FORGOT AGAIN!!!
I guess im in a mixed state at the moment. Cant stop thinking, its like a runaway train – I cant think rationally – which brings me to my next point – if I KNOW I am not thinking rationally, then how do I know that they are actually wrong – I may not want to kill my self later, however if I go ahead with it I wont br able to regret it because I will be dead. So it wont matter.

I would love this fucking lithium to work, I would love this lithium to keep supressing my appetite. I would love this pressure neck head thing to stop – I don’t know if it is anxiety or the lithium causing it – only get it when taking Li but by the same token I am generally taking Lithium when I am rapid cycling/manically mixed state and by definition anxious.

God I just need it to stop, if if wake up tomorrow and this is still the same I don’t think I will be able to go to work. It just needs to stop – the fucked upedness is that this will NEVER TRULY GO AWAY. I cant live with myself knowing that my family, my perfect fucking family should be subjected to a crazy wife / mother / daughter. I cant EVER deal with the in laws finding out about this, which means I cant be truly honest with my Psych or GP because I know they would hospitalise me. Frankly I am aware that this is what I really need, but I cant be hospitalised because then the family would find out. NOBODY can find out. Its not ok for this to be me – I don’t care if other ppl have mental illness and I would jump up and advocate for them in a heart beat, but not me. That’s different.

If I end it they will never have to live with the shame, I wont have to live with the shame. I don't want to go to work tomorrow I don’t have the ability to cope with the pressure of the new training that I didn’t see. I bought new dresses to wear to work – this should mean I am subconsciously happy about going but I think I was just spending money cause I could, and besides I keep eating like the fat whore I am and this means those dresses wont fit much longer anyway. Another tick in the pro suicide column, I can die skinny – that would be so much better than having to become fat again. I CANT become fat again. Essentially I think that answers any question I have left. But again then I remember that its my sons birthday next week. OH GOD the original date is SO CLOSE, if I can just hold out until then. But I don’t think I can, if I make it that far it will mean that I will already be fat and I will already have suffered through work. I just want to quit, I have already written my resignation, its sitting on my desk top waiting to be sent. I cant be there, I jst want to cry and there is no reason for that either – they have done nothing, but I just cant help it, I cant be there. There has got to be a way to escape it other than the obvious – until after his birthday.

This is too hard. Way to fucking hard.

Que Sera

There isn’t much time now and I must get ready to say goodbye. In the end everything turned out exactly as it was always meant to.

By chance I was able to see or reconnect with almost everyone that I intended to and please know that this brought me great peace.

There is a playlist in my music folder marked ‘funeral’ it has the songs that I most related to and is in my preferential order.

I want to be cremated with all but a handful of my ashes scattered across the back paddock at the farm (the one near the back neighbours place at the area just before the trees start) facing west on the spring evening of a red sunset. (not that I’m picky or anything).

For the last handful of my ashes, take me to the top of my magic mountain near where I grew up on a warm breezy day and stand overlooking the mountains. Feel the wind on your face as you lean forwards and hold your arms back until it feels like you are soaring high across the valley below. There you must let the last of my spirit fly one final time. This is a sacred place to me and was the place where I first learned of the destiny of my soul.

Despite the challenges along the way, I wouldn’t change a single thing. The way a story ends is not always an accurate summary of the chapters lived between.

Thank you, all of you for such an amazing ride. Nobody could hope for a more fulfilling life with their soulmate, a wonderful family, great friends and the opportunity to understand and achieve their destiny.

Take care, remember que sera sera, cest la vie. Let peace be forever in your hearts and I will see you on the flip side!


God Theory

Depression sucks, being high is awesome. I’m the happiest I have been and yet I am ready to cease my life. I guess that I want to go out on a high. Does that make me sound depressed? LOL

I feel better than I have in forever, I am so complete and fulfilled and to the amusement of anyone who has ever known me, I think I found God! OK, rather I have summarised my interpretation of the meaning of the word ‘god’ and how ‘god’ fits into the creation/ development of our perceived world.

I watched a movie today called Lucy. Very long story very short, u know how humans only use 10% of their brain? Well this lucy chick ends up using 100%. The movie speculates what would happen if we had this ability. (*Spoiler alert*)When she reached the 100% she disappeared and essentially became everything or as we humans would view it, a god like entity.

Anywho, I was thinking about it after and came to the conclusion that using 100% of brain function is you become so in touch with your structure and the environmental structure at a cellular level that you become one with all matter which is equivalent to ceasing to exist. So therefor you are unable to use 100% of your brain potential until you are using none at all. Death is equivalent to complete life, in the way that all colours are white. This is probably where the perception of a god like after life state or going to be with god when you die originated from. If you think about it, the fact is that we are all simply energy particles forming and changing shapes.  Perception truly is the only reality, we perceive energy particles around us to form in a predictive manner, what ever causes these particles to connect together to create and duplicate cells until they form a ‘physical’ being surely potentially causes a energy image or shadow style effect of the previously existing cellular structure that is left behind once these cells die and go back into the energy pool. It would therefor be plausible that people who are more sensitive to changes in energy levels around them to pick up on these ‘energy shadows’ and perceive them in the shape they once held as a physical being thus giving rise to the theory of ghosts.

If purely energy based, these apparitions would not have any intentional function to visualise such as walking or spontaneous movement, they would merely behave in a replicate manner  or photographic style model of the physical form they had been previously connected to, for this purpose the existence of a ‘soul’ for example would more likely be present in the replicated energy field than within the breaking down cells from the physical form.

Depending of the energy frequency the human perceiver is tuned into, these ‘spirits’ for want of a better term may be able to communicate although this would only really be possible using implanted imagery or word based thoughts transmitted via energy particles. Actual ‘speech’ as we know it would not be possible for the same obvious reasons that tree frogs don’t verbally communicate the same way dogs, cats or even ppl do – the ‘speech’ or method of communication using sound relies on physical structure through a collection of cells. The sub atomic structure that goes into creating just one physical cell is nearly infinite and can only be increased via duplication. Always continuous equal parts, always in pairs – DNA, Reproduction as a general – to create the existence of any cell based object it must involve a level of duplication. This process is not (by sheer natural design) supposed to be reversed. The splitting of an atom, creates an explosion – this almost proves the big bang theory in one simple step, we reversed the natural process and created an explosion, thus an explosion would have created an atom in the first place, atoms must be duplicated in order to form anything else. – What would be interesting is to know exactly what substance was released in the explosion of the atom splitting as that substance is essentially what creates life as we know it, that substance IS energy, the molecular everything or “god” not in the man with a beard way, but in the true scientific sense of the word.

We can never harness that substance as it is God, there for it is everything. Halving one atom creates “God” energy. Halve the “God energy” and we would cease to exist, one can only imagine what comes before that – unfortunately our 10% brain capacity doesn’t quite stretch that far… 

As far as the alien debate is concerned, I think the forming of physical structure in such a predictable manner (ie humans are one form, cats are another) is probably magnetically based, when we look for life on other planets we need to pay particular attention to places that have a magnetic core like earth rather than focusing so much on oxygen and water. Our physical structures have evolved like that due to their environment however if another planet had a life, it would be plausibile that it is the magnetic structure of the planet that governs the way atomic particles cluster together, creating a unique environment which in turn would see life forms model physical designs based on their individual environment ie lungs might not be required at all but cells may form from gasses absorbed through the bottom of a foot or hoof or talon. 

What ppl need to remember is that HOW and WHY don’t always matter. Just because we have the ability to ask these questions doesn’t always mean it is necessary, or ideal to do so. Sometimes simply being present in the moment and knowing what IS and observing what CAN be will be a far more powerful and liberating thought process that dwelling on the things we have no control over.

As previously stated perception is reality and therefor reality is perception, we can choose our perceptions and how we react to them. Your life is your choice, take today to take charge.

THAT is the true reality.

Clearly Blurred Lines

I don’t know what the fuck I want, I don’t know what I am thinking anymore or more often what I’m not thinking. I think I know something/ understand something/ want something and then five minutes later I do a total 180 on the subject. My memory is fucked, I am doing random shit like cleaning the car to within an inch of its life even though I am planning to crash the bloody thing anyway. I am trying on and buying dresses that are on SUPER special and SO nice while simultaneously throwing a cocktail of drugs down my throat with the intention of overdosing.

Asked the Guru for details of her sound system today via text (super awesome sound quality) I told her I want to get one for DH for fathers day. She commented that she was pleased to see I am planning for the future – I sent her the txt mostly cause I felt guilty for putting her in the spot I did yesterday. I shared enough that she could have and arguably should have put me in hospital, but I talked my way out of it – the text was kind of a silent “see Im still alive, like I promised”. The fathers day thing was just a good excuse to buy something expensive, lol. I do want one, yet its stupid because I just took a fatal overdose. Hey look subscription to H&G is reduced, and OOH it has free mixing bowls *clicks and orders*, hang on wait a min – why am I wasting money, I just took a fatal overdose…. Part of it might be I’m a touch manic so wanna have fun and spend money rather than actually thinking about the fact that I wont be alive in a week or less anyway!

I guess one good thing is the constant in all of this is even when I realise that I wont get to give DH that sound system, read that H&G mag or wear those dresses – I don’t mind, I have been resigned to the fact for so long now that its more a passing – hmm shame, could have worn that to A/B/C…

Augghh! I’m so messed up! Thank god I took the overdose I’m better off without me LOL.

Asking for help?

I made a decision today, a decision that scares the living fuck out of me. I wrote an email to my psychologist asking if I could come and see her again.

This scares me because it inadvertently means I am questioning myself, questioning the belief I have held deep to my core for well over a decade, questioning the date of my death. The date that when originally handed to me along with the vision of the future seemed so far away and so unlikely until time passed and visions came true, time and time again.

I’m not sure what I hope to achieve from this, perhaps the act of sending that email is far more telling and thought provoking than any session or the flow on effect from it could ever possibly be. The fear of being wrong about everything is far more frightening than being right.

My days are currently being spent simply trying to keep it together, most of my being thinking that this is a fruitless exercise and why drag it out and the other smaller part, some would say voice of reason saying , wait.. you have to do xyz first, reach your date and then you can do what ever you like.  I remember the guru telling me once right at the beginning, that when you make the decision to finally cut the shit and actually commit suicide that you should stop right before you do it and say, this is ok I have made my decision and I have every right to make this choice but first I need to wait until… tomorrow/3pm/after the 6’oClock news. Then if I still feel the same way I can go for it, no probs. – this tactic is very effective, as between then and the end of the 6 o’Clock news something has generally happened to distract you from the task at hand and death is no longer your top priority and you put if off as you want to do abc first.

I remember the day I took out life insurance, I felt this immense relief, the lack of it had held me back for so long, now I only had to wait another 13 months for the cooling off period and I could finally let go knowing my family would be able to pay off the house, I just wanted so badly for it to end right then and there, I couldn’t stop the pain, but now at least I had a plan.

13 months later? I I had stopped counting the months down at that point, I was happily in one of my manic phases and enjoying my god like zen’ness with the natural world as I stayed up for days on end designing my future magazine worthy garden that people would come from miles around to see featured in the Australian Open Garden Scheme and carted hundreds of dollars worth of potted colour home from Bunnings, potting mix spilled all through the boot. Of COURSE I could plant approx. 300 seedlings that afternoon before DH came home… - yeah suicide was no longer a priority of scattered thoughts.

From the moment I was ‘given’ – I hesitate to use that word- the date of my impending death, I think I have always known deep down that things would end at my own hand. The date has in many ways been the only thing that has kept me here for as long as I have been. It has been my ‘6 o’clock news’ and now its rapidly approaching I am in my current mind awash with relief. D day.

5 days ago I took my medications down from the cupboard and looked at the ½ full packet of Lithium I had previously used, then abused as a means of having an excuse to stop taking it. Why did I want to stop taking it? Frankly because I was afraid it might actually work, I didn’t want to get better – I wanted to die, I had a plan and I was scared the Lithium might change my mind.

I looked at this packet and made the decision to start taking it again, in my general non compliant fashion I began the pills and have not mentioned this to anybody. The Lithium was only really making me sick last time because I was purposely overdosing so my blood results would say my levels were toxic even at the low dose and the Drs would let me stop. Prior to my little decision to abuse it I had in fact had no ill effects at all. So I know that as long as I follow the proper dosage recommendation’s I won’t have a problem.

The reason behind my decision to take the Li again is that I want to prove to myself that it’s not just the uncontrolled bipolar that is making me want to die, and that even when medicated it is still a decision that I am making.

This email was so hard to write because I am still terrified that something/somebody will stop me, I don’t want to be stopped. That little voice quietly points out that ultimately it’s my decision but what do I have to lose by sticking around? If that really is the date of death then nothing I can do can stop it anyway. I suppose there is a reason that people aren’t supposed to know their expiry date, even when it’s a goal not a fear it becomes all consuming.

I do wonder if perhaps the toll that my eating disorder has put on my body perhaps it will simply be my heart that gives out and I won’t have to take that last breath as I close my eyes and lock the steering wheel to the left.

All I know for certain is what I have seen in the vision of my final moments. I see the poplars still stark naked, a few weeks away from new leaf. The sun is slowly setting and everything fades to black a force pushing my shoulders down, the world is black now but completely peaceful and I am aware of the feeling of sinking into the leather seat and the car pulling away to the left, and nothing more.

December 1984 – insert date here September 2014

Somebody please put “told ya I wouldn’t make 30” on my grave stone ;D

My final goal, is that I must achieve before D day is putting this and all my other incoherent ramblings together in some sort of order. No matter the outcome they will be a source of understanding to others or a means of reflection for myself should this not turn out the way it has been foretold.   

A reflection on how mental illness has affected my life

The brush has claimed yet another clump of my rapidly thinning hair, I pull it from the knobbely pins and drop it in the waste basket. Taking a deep breath I look down over my skeletal frame briefly acknowledging the place where my breasts used to be. My skin has become a dry slightly greyish colour and the dark circles under my eyes could make people begin to question my husband’s integrity.

The sad thing is while I endure the day in day out nausea and dizzy spells caused by this war I am fighting, it is inevitably a losing battle. This battle is not against cancer as an outsider looking in may imagine at first glance, no, this is a war against myself and one entirely of my own making.

Suicide is a funny thing, usually a quick solution to a painful situation that feels inescapable, in my case it is a long slow drawn out process, but one that can no longer be stopped, and one I have no will to stop. I have anorexia nervosa and bipolar disorder, I am putting a psychologists children through the finest collage and keeping the pharmaceutical industry running.

Whatever motives I had when this journey first began, back when I still had a choice in the matter, have long since been replaced by a compulsion, the simple terrifying phobia I have developed about gaining weight.

My relationship with food and weight loss isn’t because I want to look like some super star in a magazine or attract a man, it never was. This began as a teenager when I was bullied for being overweight and decided to do something about it, lose weight or kill myself. When I did manage to lose weight the thought of ever going back to that dark place was so terrifying that gaining even a gram was unacceptable, in fact I needed to keep losing a few, just in case… Of course that spiralled out of control quickly and soon I was in the grips of Anorexia.

Lots of things happened after that, long story short I moved out of home at 16 and met the love of my life, that relationship saved me in so many ways, I slowly stopped caring about my weight, I was truly happy, one thing led to another and at 17 I was expecting my first child. That pregnancy forced me to give up my vegetarianism due to anemia and that let me cut my final tie with the weight obsession that had owned me for so long.

Over the years 3 more children followed, my weight issues came back from time to time but only in a mild manner, I was able to acknowledge that I didn’t want to go back to that place and chose to eat in a more health conscious manner to avoid excessive weight gain.

Although my weight issues weren’t taking over my life I was still waging war on myself, I had always been at the mercy of my moods, I was generally fairly content and had no reason to complain at all however I would go through months of severe suicidal depression which I tried very hard to hide from the outside world, I had the perfect life after all I shouldn’t be unhappy, it was WRONG to feel that way. In stark contrast to these bleak times I would sometimes find myself so increadibly happy and grateful for the things that I had, my spiritual oneness with nature would bloom and blossom, I would make it my mission to inspire those around me, I would join groups and committees and come up with hundreds of brilliant and grand ideas that I would stay up all night filling notebooks with lists and lists of the things I would do and achieve, telling anybody that would listed all about them.

I went through different phases and tended to spend too much money for our meagre budget on these things, like the time I spent $2000 on Christmas lights after seeing a house all lit up on TV and deciding that I could DEFINITELY win that competition the following Christmas. The time I joined AMWAY which my family and friends have kindly never spoken of again, or that time when I decided that I was going to immerse myself in learning how to cook – a task I have always loathed – so I looked up and saved hundreds of recipes off the internet, I went and bought a stack of expensive pots and pans and cook books and made spreadsheets and lists of menu ideas putting them in catagories. This phase, like all the others ended when eventually I would burn out from trying to do absolutely everything on my list at once and plunge into another deep depression as I was a failure who couldn’t do anything right and generally rather broke given the unwarranted spending on my latest failed venture.

Fast forward several years of similar scenarios and I finally cracked it totally, I went through one of my energetic excited learning phases when I got a new job, this started out great as my bosses loved my enthusiasm and drive and the fact that I was inspiring others too, I won a stack of office awards and life was peachy, then the depression hit again this time was different though, I was still energetic and felt electricity running through me but simultaneously wanted to die. I won another award and hated myself for getting it, I knew I didn’t deserve it, the other staff were whispering about me behind my back and how I was the teacher’s pet. ( A few childish types really were)

 I didn’t trust anyone, they were all against me. I started getting really forgetful, I couldn’t control my thoughts their fast pace I usually used to my learning advantage had gotten out of control, I would sit staring at my work not having a clue what I was doing, I was struggling to remember my name. In order to concentrate even a little bit I had to put headphones on with fast paced dance music, this seemed to occupy the part of my mind that was running away from me and let the other part get a little bit of work done.

Every lunch time I would go for a fast walk to get the energy out and try and hopefully lose a bit more weight while I was at it– I couldn’t control my thoughts but I could control my eating. I didn’t want to sit with my colleagues, they would notice I wasn’t eating and whisper about me even more. I would walk up the little hill and work out the best place to go to die, should I run down to the highway and jump in front of a truck? If I popped out just past the bridge they wouldn’t see me so definitely wouldn’t have time to stop, I didn’t want to fuck it up and end up quadriplegic or something.

Just as Christmas approached it got too much, I thought my head was going to completely explode, I was fairly aware I was going crazy and trying desperately to hide it. I had to go to my in-laws for a big family Christmas do on Christmas eve and I was terrified, I could barely construct a sentence, they would surely know something was up, they couldn’t know, they could never know. The only solution I could come up with was killing myself before Christmas eve.

In a brief moment of clarity I thought perhaps I should see my Dr, so I rang to make an appointment but she was away. I then asked a friend if I could have the number of a psychologist she was seeing, she wasn’t available until after Christmas. So fete had spoken, suicide it was.

I dreamed up several different ways of performing the act which were all dependent on circumstance, I guess I knew I was nuts because I had a paranoid fear of people trying to lock me up in the psych ward and most of my suicide plans involved escape scenarios and fast acting suicide for that exact situation.

My favourite scenario at the time was to do 180km into a particular tree I had picked out. I was doing a lot of high speed driving, the 100km speed limit of my daily journey to work and back felt like snail’s pace to my racing mind and so I tended to float around the 140 mark and on a quiet stretch where the police don’t hang around I tended to do 160 to 180km p/h I had a personal goal to hit the 200km but I kept running out of road.

I had decided that 180km into the tree should be enough to kill me, retrospectively 100km was probably enough but it felt so slow at the time that I remember thinking I would be lucky to sprain an ankle at that low speed.

The trouble with Christmas time, is that our family has A LOT of birthdays in December, so trying to pick the optimum day to kill yourself that wont make the death anniversary on or too close to a birthday proves very difficult. I felt bad for the kids and thought that if I knocked myself off before Christmas it would screw up Christmas for them as someone would have to arrange a funeral and insurance etc so ppl might forget to give them their presents.

So I decided I needed to wait until after Christmas and try my very very hardest to get through the holiday period without giving away my position.

This post is becoming very long and drawn out, but after one failed suicide attempt I did make it through Christmas, My birthday, New Years and just barely my sons birthday in Jan – which there is a post somewhere on here about, the rest is pretty much documented below.

Dark Nights

The nights are getting darker, in a figurative sense. I close my eyes and see things I never used to see pictures of unfamiliar people and places, playing like slideshows in my mind have now given way to early motion picture style sequences of the same. Who are these people? Why do I know them?

I hold on to most of my guilt throughout the day and it comes exploding out into my mind when the house grows silent and I close my eyes, I come up with imaginative ways in which to punish myself and prevent the infinite loop that encircles my mind, I dream of being able to cut the excessive flesh from my body with a knife, burn welts into my skin – the physical pain a punishment and the scar to serve as a reminder of the regret that always comes later, every time I open my mouth.

 Like the depression that always follows the mania, food and guilt are entwined together and always will be, but there is no chemical compound to silence that incessant voice that chastises every worthless move you make. When it comes down to it I lie awake on these dark nights pondering, imagining and yet I always come to the same and correct conclusion; that there is always only one way to permanently end this cycle.


So many hours are lost to this disease, the ‘unhelpful thinking’ patterns as the Guru puts it. It’s ridiculous when actually put into words or thought about in any logical way. But still it remains, every hour it creeps in, at some point a comment, something you see or hear that reminds you or god help it you catch your reflection or need to go to the bathroom.
Eating is the worst, it’s a constant battle of instinct vs mind. Your body takes over gorging everything in its path while all you can think is how worthless you are and how desperately you want it all to stop.
If I had a dollar for the amount of times I have glanced at that knife block while stuffing bread down my gob just longing to plunge it deep into my flesh or slice deep into my wrists. End the torture.
Silence. Inside, outside. Peace.
My husband walked in just as I typed that sentence and I slammed the computer down like a 14yr old girl hiding something from her parents. Now he’s upset because I wouldn’t tell him what I was doing, what I was hiding. Is it wrong that I would almost rather he thought I was having an affair than writing a diary like this? Honestly, I don’t know which one of those would hurt him more.
I hate myself every time I eat at the moment. The trouble for my messed up mind is that I am eating constantly and I cant stop. It’s too hard.

Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Stolen hours

So many hours are lost to this disease, the ‘unhelpful thinking’ patterns as the Guru puts it. It’s ridiculous when actually put into words or thought about in any logical way. But still it remains, every hour it creeps in, at some point a comment, something you see or hear that reminds you or god help it you catch your reflection or need to go to the bathroom.
Eating is the worst, it’s a constant battle of instinct vs mind. Your body takes over gorging everything in its path while all you can think is how worthless you are and how desperately you want it all to stop.
If I had a dollar for the amount of times I have glanced at that knife block while stuffing bread down my gob just longing to plunge it deep into my flesh or slice deep into my wrists. End the torture.
Silence. Inside, outside. Peace.
My husband walked in just as I typed that sentence and I slammed the computer down like a 14yr old girl hiding something from her parents. Now he’s upset because I wouldn’t tell him what I was doing, what I was hiding. Is it wrong that I would almost rather he thought I was having an affair than writing a diary like this? Honestly, I don’t know which one of those would hurt him more.
I hate myself every time I eat at the moment. The trouble for my messed up mind is that I am eating constantly and I cant stop. It’s too hard.

Doubt, is it just the crazy talking?

Sometimes I doubt myself, I doubt the prophecy. Perhaps I really am just crazy and these beliefs I hold so close are nothing but the delusions of a mad women, lost in her sea of darkness and false sense of clarity.

I don’t want it to be that way. I need this to be real, I guess I am frightened of what will be if it isn’t, I am not prepared for that. I have spent so much time conditioning my mind for this that for it not to happen is simply unfathomable.

My best friend was frightened by me the other day. I hate that, it fills me with guilt. They stayed for the Easter weekend and I was getting a little hypo, not even very much, but enough to say more than I should – including telling her that I was off my meds, that was supposed to be a secret. After a conversation that admitted things I normally would save only for this blog she went off to bed and I decided the children HAD to have a easter egg hunt with riddle clues, so I stayed up to write that, and then I cleaned up, and then around 4am I thought the kids and adults for that matter should have a lovely fully cooked Easter breakfast so I set about baking fresh bread, hot cross buns, cooking scrambled eggs and pancakes…

 So while they loved the breakfast I was apparently getting a little too “fast” – I just wanted to get a whole heap done, there was washing up to do and I wanted the egg hunt to go perfectly so was trying -arguabley with limited success - to wrangle 7 children.

It turns out my friend hasn’t seen me like that before and she just happened to already be there otherwise she still wouldn’t have. I normally keep away from friends when I am in those moods, more than anything else because I am busy doing whatever. I certainly get a whole hell of a lot worse than that, didn’t even have crazy racing thoughts or anything but she was freaked out by it and actually went off on a walk wondering if she should do anything.

It may have been because I stopped taking my original meds, I was supposed to keep them up until I next see the pdoc but I was gaining WAY too much weight and I couldn’t take it anymore so I stopped them - and I might add, dropped 4kg in a week, must have been mostly fluid retention.

The meds must have been doing something though because although not even close to as severe as in the past, my moods have been becoming all over the place again, I was pretty steady there for a while, not hyper not even feeling depressed at all and starting to looking forward to some sort of imaginary future.

This reliance on meds makes me seriously question, what IS real?

The ‘me’ on some sort of pharmaceutical induced normal or the me that is ME, pure.  Sure I might be ‘depressed’ and ‘over the top,’ sometimes in one sentence, and yes I might have some ‘alternative’ beliefs about myself and my life that others don’t agree with or seem to understand.

But I have to ask, if I have to be drugged up to conform with everyone else in this mainstream society then isn’t that really the biggest self -delusion of them all?

I think my biggest problem is that I have a family and I need to be able to earn money. If I am going to work where I do I need to conform. I find myself wishing more often than ever that I could just run away and live in the hills, with nobody to answer to but myself. Helping others when I can and then moving on as I choose, nothing to force me to act like everyone else and free to fly from the roof tops or end my life if I choose to. Freedom.

succumb to the call...

I knew it was coming, I could feel it. But I chose not to heed the warning signs and now it is too late, I am owned.

I have had my mind infiltrated by my best friend and worst enemy. I now hear her as a voice separate to my own, which is different to the way it was before. She made a whispered promise to help me reach my goals, to set me free from this depression and stabilize my hectic mood swings as she has an amazing power to gain control. But she lied. Of course she did, she always does.

I am depressed and mostly at her will it is decided whether I retreat into myself or not. I want to partake in conversations I normally would, my own voice is still there in my mind as it always was, making small talk, laughing at jokes and making smart arse comments but I am unable to speak out loud unless permission is given by her. My thoughts are racing, my concentration sucks and my thoughts are darker and darker the further out of control I get the more I need her to be in charge, her voice is loud, belittling, sarcastic and often contradictory, but it keeps me functioning in society.

As much as I know I should fight it, her, for my own mind. I am too weak. Frankly, I am done trying to escape, the pain of fighting it is so much worse than the pain of succumbing to her call and I am stuck again, sucked into the vortex she creates, that I created for myself and I know deep down I won’t get out this time, it’s over.

Like a cliché Stockholm syndrome, I have fallen in love with my captor.

I have been put on Lithium in conjunction with the Lamotrogine for the bipolar and when I went to see my psychiatrist after a fairly good morning with intention to ask for help with the ED I was rendered almost unable to speak or concentrate, her voice loud in my head a constant stream of:

 “You cant say anything you fucking idiot, then she will want to weigh you, maybe put you in hospital and then make you EAT. If you EAT you will get FATTER. Do you want to get FATTER? Do you WANT to get more depressed? Why not go end it now then, jump through the fucking glass window and slice your femoral artery. Go on! I dare you!! You know why you’re not doing it? Why you haven’t killed yourself yet? It’s because you are a weak piece of shit and you’re never going to have any sort of control over yourself.

Watch as you go the fuck home and eat a tub of ice-cream then come back and cry about how sad you are – see now that she thinks your depressed again she’s upping your meds. You know Lithium makes you fat right? REALLY FAT. You have photos on the weekend, you wanted to pretend to be normal for a minute, thin and normal wearing your jeans that used to fit you until you went manic and thought it was ok to eat. Hot chips! REALLY???!! WTF is wrong with you, you dumb whore, each potato has 150 Cal and you had them deep fried in lard and fuck knows how many potatos are in a bucket of chips – Oh and don’t forget the icecream. I hope that you had fun in Melbourne because you are NEVER EVER going back there, 8kg, 8kg!!!!! the consequences aren’t worth it, are they?

Or… You could let me help you? You don’t have to get fatter- even if you can’t pretend but actually have to take the Lithium because of the blood tests. All you have to do is say no. Every time you eat when you take Lithium, your weak piece of shit self will end up binging again, so stop eating. COMPLETELY stop. You know the tricks, you know how to lie! Hell you might even be able to lose weight before the photos! You have 6 days to prove yourself, if you fuck it up then you are a lost cause, destined to be a fat heffer for the rest of your life.”

It was Monday, so I filled my script, went home and didn’t eat, kept my 1hr exercise regime up. Tuesday, I didn’t eat and exercised properly AND got offered a new job with less hours and better pay.  – A reward for my diligence, she suggested.

Wednesday I had off work – this would be my biggest challenge, especially as I was supposed to meet a friend for dinner. I managed to turn dinner into coffee and then of course didn’t have a cake like she did.

then this morning (Thursday) I woke up tired and weak and a bit nauseated, so I didn’t exercise ‘she’ suggested that I weighed myself for the first time in around a month – mostly to teach me a lesson about not exercising – But I was pleasantly surprised, I had actually lost weight!! She allowed me to try on my clack shorts and grey pants and they fit perfectly. So today was allowed to be a good day and she has left me alone somewhat although I was hungry a bit during the day but she gave some gentle encouragement and I managed to deflect it by chewing gum and guzzling diet coke.

I am slightly messed up however by the slight reaction I have been having to the Lithium – an uncontrollable shaking of my hands making it very difficult to write and dizziness, I am aware that some of that may be attributed to the lack of food too.

Then tonight at dinner time I fucked it all up. Badly.

 I ate some zucchini stuffed with cauliflower, garlic, onion and capsicum. It tasted so good while I ate it, until reality set in and I realised what I had done, my stomach seemed to grow before my eyes, I desperately wanted to throw it up but for whatever reason I am incapable of purging, always have been. So we went to bed and watched some episodes of Fringe, all the while I am too busy listening to the loud voice in my head reprimanding me for my actions, I hate myself.

I realised I hadn’t taken my tablets so I got up to do so and for whatever fucked up reason opened the chocolate ice cream sitting in the freezer and bloody ate some – about 100 cal worth. SHIT. So that essentially renders today’s minimal 300 cal exercise null and void and she is very, very angry with me. The voice is too loud to sleep… Many suggestions are that now might be an ideal time to finish things, It would be good timing really as I am changing jobs, the photos will be done so there will be something for the kids to remember me by.

I also now have Lithium at my disposal, FINALLY a drug I can use to properly OD on, I would still combine it with the original cocktail, but at least it guarantees the outcome and is a great quick escape should I find myself cornered.

But on the other hand, this new job brings in great money, so I could stay there as per the original plan and use that extra income so we can finish the house and yards off a bit and make up some savings for the funeral, they are so damn expensive – Far out, a cardboard box in a bonfire at the farm is fine by me. If I can keep up the not eating, eventually my heart will fail and I can sleep in peace, really I do feel this would be a much nicer way of going than the throwing up and shitting myself overdoses may bring if I fuck it up and end up not actually dying, also worried about screwing up the drive into a tree thing and becoming a quadriplegic. Other options tend to involve excessive bloodiness and scaring someone else for life – that’s plain unkind and so of course it’s my last resort.

Tomorrow I have to stick with it. It’s my last day at my old job and they want to take me out for lunch but I have to somehow not eat or maybe choke down a small garden salad as I NEED to be ready for these photos on Sunday. I am also really worried that after that I know I kinda need to start eating a little bit because I have two weeks of intensive training at my new job and I really need to be able to concentrate and remember things, but I am scared to do that. Gaining weight is NOT AN OPTION, and I am worried that I won’t be able to maintain my current weight. I really need to go 3kg under my goal so that I have a safety net to rely on. *sigh*

Back on the roller coaster.




You Are My Sunshine

 Today is the day before mother’s day, I have been really sick this week with Lithium toxicity, went to the doc again today after stopping the lithium 3 days ago, my symptoms are still getting worse, I am trembling constantly, I have a thing called Nystagmus where my eyes jump around all over the place when I try and focus. The doc said the Lithium should have cleared my system by now and has ordered more bloods, she thinks I also have a sinus infection which is contributing to the feeling like hell so I’m on antibiotics too.

I was left feeling awful terrified that this could be permanent, my eyes are so bad that it is taking me forever just to type this and its quite painful. Suicide has been on my mind again lot lately and then something happened this afternoon that made me feel really guilty about it, less like I would be doing them a favour.  

My 5yr old daughter (baby bel) came up to me handing me a little creation she made and said “This is for mother’s day tomorrow but I want to give it to you now. Then I can give it to you again tomorrow.”

This is the card:

She the promptly looks me in the eye and with a big smile starts singing

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine you make me happy when skies are grey, you never know how much I love you, so please don’t take my sunshine away. 

Mum, you are my sunshine, I love you SOOOOOOOO much!”

Please don’t take my sunshine away. Fuck.

Sorry baby girl, I promise I will try my best I love you Sooooo much too! You may have just saved my life.


revival and resistance

Well I haven’t blogged for so long I have almost forgotten how to do it. So much has happened, so much has changed yet nothing at all is really different. I don’t know where to start, my life has done a full circle repeatedly over the last 18 months and yet I’m loathed to be back to the beginning again, phases – Always phases, I really should be used to it by now, a high wouldn’t go astray either.

I guess this is just another one of those rapid cycles. I can’t keep it up much longer, my pseudo life is starting to collapse – ironically it’s not the blogging one I think of as false, but the real one where I try and hide all of my sins and dirty secrets…

Speaking of secrets, forgive me bloggerverse for I have sinned.

 I stopped taking my meds cold turkey and lied about it.

I went to the shrink on a bit of a high ages ago now and promptly forgot everything she told me within 48hrs. It occurred to me just now that I have not filled in a single day of the mood chart that I forgot she gave me and my moods have been all over the place for a little while now too so I really should have filled it in, but I can’t even work out how long ago I should have started because my memory tends to fuck up when my mind goes…

 I also can’t remember when my next appointment with her is and I’ve miss placed the appointment card I was given. I would ring up and ask but her name escapes me as well and I really don’t care enough to bother trying. I wonder if I shouldn’t have taken myself off the meds after all, however the side effects are no longer something I am able to cope with and I have been off them too long to go back on them anyway. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

Not much point going to the shrink really anyway if I’m not going to take what she prescribes. It becomes an expensive and pointless visit. I do kind of miss seeing The Guru though, I call her my ‘rent a friend’ to her face and she laughs. She is a great wall to vent to with a few zen contributions where it counts. Unfortunately money issues and school holidays make it impossible to go to see her at the moment though – besides I would probably just end up dobbing myself in about the meds and I think she has to tattle tale on me in to the GP/P doc and that simply doesn’t work for me.

 Tomorrow marks day one of the end project. I am committed to this now. Temptations are inexcusable and willpower is the only answer. This is what needs to happen and I am the only one who can make it happen. This is the one chance I have to get something right and I will bloody succeed.

Still Alive, Still Crazy

Today… Still alive, slightly less foggy headed from the lithium OD, but still dizzy as hell, shaky sore eyes with trouble focusing but not quite as bad as yesterday, very strong pressure in my head that comes in waves – feels similar to ice-cream headache only you start blacking out. didn’t take Lithium again as I cant stand this feeling a moment longer

 I was triggered horribly by a fucking 13yr old. I tried on a pair of jeans that were a size 8 and while they went on, my big fat calves made the bootleg look like skinny leg, I already wanted to cry seeing my giant shape in multiple mirrors is confronting enough.

As I was getting dressed again I hear someone talking to a girl saying “ooh lets try the size 7s shall we?” and when I walked out I saw miss size 7, the jeans were way too baggy. I KNOW she was only 13 and I am a grown women nearly 30 FFS but still, I guess cause I’m a fruit loop it triggered the crap out of me, I want to be that small, I NEED to be that small. On my way out of the shopping centre all I saw was stick thin women with perfect legs and perfect hair and I just wanted to die.

Then I had to pick up like 4 things from the grocery store that weren’t for me, I had them in the basket in 5 min and proceeded to spend nearly 40 min doing the old pick up and put back things that I wanted to but could never eat. I hate being this ridiculous.

new job, old tricks

Start Job, End life

I need to die now. I am ready to go, its time. I had a great life and for that I am truly greatful, but I have now hit the point of no return. I am not willing to give up the demon that has reclaimed me, her voice is too strong.

Started my new job today, it sucks. The team leader is like a size 4 and drop dead gorgeous, I am so intensely jealous I cant function when she is in the room. My legs are unforgivable. She must not have eaten in years.

Today I fucked up, I narrowly avoided having lunch at the mall, got as far as the food court before having a panic attack and getting the hell out of there. I then ruined this COMPLETELY by having a 500kj boost juice after work. Instead of learning to throw it up like I should have I had 5 grapes and got home only to eat a vege meal of possibly up to 100 cal. I can’t believe what a loser I am. I have already gained weight from it, you could see in the mirror when I went on the cross trainer this evening, ass thighs and my size 8 jeans that fit yesterday are snug and downright tight on my calves.. Now its going to add an extra two days at least.

I have started Lithium in place of Sodium Valporate and it is making me feel awful, got a call from the dr 2 day re my lithium level bloods & other bloods.   enough Li levels r too high and my liver is mildly affected (yay! Now how to finish it off, or better yet, induce heart attack – quicker method. Have been downing V drinks like a madwomen for the heart and slipping in many Panadol as possible to quietly finish off the liver. What got me was that my cholesterol was really high!!!!!!!????? Im not complaining, its 1 more thing to add to the self destruct arsenal, although this fucks with my head majorly as I don’t understand –WHY? – I don’t really eat... – particularly saturated fats, god maybe thinking about eating those foods really can add calories… I guess this simply means that I need to reduce my food intake generally and stop thinking about all those fat causing artery clogging foods, as much as it would increase my heart attack risk, the chance of weight gain just isn’t worth it,

Must go to bed now, tired & dizzy. With a bit of luck lithium toxicity will set in and I wont wake up, otherwise I need to be ok at work tomoz as now that I am casual, sick pay doesn’t exist for me any more. Try and earn some more $ towards my funeral costs. I need to cut or burn to remind me that food is forbidden, then I can poke it everytime I think of eating as punishment.

Meds and Mania

I have been taking my medication for 9 days now, the first 7 I experienced no change, still caught up in the whirlwind glow of my most recent hypomanic enthusiasm that left me aware of my inability to work but completely un phased by it. On day 8 however, something changed. I woke up, which was pretty special in itself as it meant I had actually slept the night before. This should really have been a good thing, but instead I had risen irritable and tired with my mind still racing but my body feeling as slow as a snail.

The children bore the brunt of my angry outbursts for the morning and I shipped them off to school only to come home and sink into the pit of depression. The knowledge of some of the goings on in my most recent hypomanic phase were slowly sinking in, the fact that I had gambled, drunk and OD’d myself for no decent reason, spontaneous road trips at 200km/ph all alone while spending to the tune of $1000 we don’t have spare, on junk I didn’t need and then feeling that turning up to work while hallucinating was perfectly reasonable had very nearly cost me my job, and had most certainly cost me my integrity.

Yes, the aftermath wasn’t pretty.

I find now days that there is a very fine line between, ‘I’m not feeling happy’ and ‘I must die’. In the old days, I would slowly get more and more depressed until the only way out that seemed reasonable was the permanent one. Now the dive to rock bottom is almost instantaneous.

My mood remained unchanged for the rest of the day and I was due to see the GP that evening. The journey to the medical centre was wholly uninspiring, I didn’t feel she could help me anymore so why bother going at all? Every tree was looking like a more attractive target proposition and by the time I arrived I think I only went into the building because my body was acting on autopilot.

 I had to wait 45 or so minutes as she was running behind. The last 43 of those minutes were spent hatching an escape plan, I shouldn’t have gone in and wanted to leave, I wanted to die right then and there yet my body felt frozen to the seat. What would I do, where would I go? I decided to amend and enact the emergency OD plan I had concocted and prepared for previously.

I would get up and walk out the next time the secretary left the waiting area and run up near the train tracks where I would hide in the ditch as I would not be easily seen there in case followed and take my concoction before falling blissfully asleep never having to deal with this awful feeling again.

While I was waiting for the receptionist to leave I had the sudden realisation that there was one massive flaw in my plan, I didn’t have a water bottle with me. How was I going to swallow a few hundred pills without water? FUCK. It was an evening appointment and the local store was shut and the waiting room unfortunately didn’t have a water cooler. I was still trying to work out a way around this ridiculous blip when the doctor appeared and summonsed me in.

 I was so angry with myself for not having a drink with me that I could barely talk, I didn’t really need to – she sensed my tide had turned a 180 since my last visit and did most of the talking for me. I neglected to mention how her lack of putting a water cooler in her waiting room had probably saved her a late night visit from a policeman and begrudgingly took a card for the mental health crisis team from her as she was going to be away for two weeks, I was instructed to call ‘just in case I felt un safe’.

A useless proposition really as I would never call, because when I feel that way I DON’T WANT HELP and when I do want help, I DON’T FEEL THAT WAY. Catch 22. I also hate the term un safe, I know perfectly well what is meant by it but frankly when I’m suicidal I feel perfectly safe, because I want to be that way Thank. You. Very. Much. I feel like I actually have an ounce of control for once.

 I’m certainly not afraid to die, there is no “oh no, help me, I don’t want to kill myself”. I cant really imagine that people who are actually want to die anyway, surely they are just crying for help. No, I am quite at peace with the concept of death generally and am utterly desperate for it when in such a mood, however irrational my motives at the time may seem to be later on.

I have just as yet been unable to get my shit together in the moment and the moments are relatively fleeting so I am distracted or interrupted and plan and prepare to do better job of it next time.

Yes the “mental health crisis team” card is about as useful as the “suicide prevention plan”. I think they just give them out to make the GP/Psychologist feel better, or at least reduce their risk of being sued by a disgruntled family member later.



I don’t usually throw around sentences like “Breach of confidentiality”. This time I was hurt.

The Guru sent my GP a long letter, I don’t actually know what was in the letter exactly but I feel completely betrayed by it. I specifically did not sign the piece of paper allowing her to contact my doctor. I know I shouldn’t care and that she’s ‘trying to look out for me’ and all but frankly she can get fucked. All trust has gone, she should have told me first and she didn’t.

The letter thing was coupled with the fact that the GP suddenly seems to have forgotten which drug she has put me on and after a slightly frenzied discussion on my eating disorder which I hadn’t previously mentioned and must have been in the letter put me way out on the defensive she added that she was glad she put me on something or other starting with L as its not known to cause weight gain where the others do.

I got home and googled it thinking that it might be another name for the one I’m on and it fucking isn’t. It’s a totally different drug and now I’m guaranteed to be back to being a fat fucking whore in no time.

Also the one I am on is supposed to be monitored with blood work so they can make sure it’s not fucking up your liver. Lucky for her I want to die anyway so it fucking my liver would be great news, but other people don’t want to die and they should have the right not to be fucked around. So as general angry retaliation I have researched how many I need to overdose on so maybe that would be the best way to go down, that way she can feel a little bit fucking guilty and think in future before writing down the wrong thing.

I have been hungry as fuck and eating way more than I am comfortable with, my stomach is getting really really flubby and my thighs are so devastating I just want to cry when I see them. I might not be manic but feel far more out of control than I have in a really long time. I would much rather be manic. I am trying to make it to the end of the month as I’m supposed to be going to Melbourne with some friends for a girls weekend, haven’t seen them in a while and should leave them with some good memories I suppose but frankly I can’t be fucked and it doesn’t matter to me.

But at this rate I might not be able to last that long anyway, its prob better before to keep it away from bubba’s birthday after melb doesn’t leave much time, I am pretty much left with the 15th.

Now I don’t even have a psych I can vent too, before seems like a much better option the more I think about it, I will have to still see her still and pretend I’m not seething at her betrayal and that these meds are making me all fucking better and I don’t need her as much anymore – make up some bull shit that I’m looking forward to so she doesn’t twig something’s off before I get a chance to finalise this thing.

 I am so done with trust betrayal. I have REALLY gotta get some sort of control over my eating too, I can’t believe I could come so far and fuck it up like this and right at the end too. It’s like stopping just before the finish line. At this rate I won’t even fit in the bloody coffin.

A Somewhat Innappropriate Article

Forgive me if this is inappropriate but I am kinda manic right now and so I am going to post it anyway!

*Extra Trigger Warning*

This is hands down best anti suicide article ever written and it’s hilarious to boot. If it doesn’t change your plans at least you get to laugh once more before you go!

And yes, I do stupid shit like google suicide, even when I’m high as a kite and not feeling remotely suicidal. I do however challenge myself to re-read this article next time I am about to end it all, I have a feeling it might just be enough to stop me…


Organisation is currently, the hardest part of this whole mentally unstable suicidally minded thing,

I have been a compulsive list writer for as long as I can remember, many a list of all the ‘brilliant’ ideas and plans and to do’s and how to’s has been cultivated via the unable to sleep must write this down RIGHT NOW in list format in the wee hours of the morning.

Now though, I have So much to organise, So. Very. Much. I am just so tired that I simply can’t be bothered to sort out anything at all. Part of me just doesn’t care anymore, I figure I still have the best part of a year, and knowing how this goes I will have boundless energy again at some point, I just don’t know if when that energy strikes that I will be able to focus to the task or I will be designing that laser tag course again.

Pah! Laser tag, I was hell bent on that. God I’m stupid. I can’t believe TBH still has the patience to listen to my crap and smile, nod and gently re direct me again, since the poor guy has to do it continuously.

Speaking of staying focused.  Must prioritise and organise the important things first, insurance for example, sort out paperwork into a filing system that actually makes sense to other people so they can find stuff. Gotta make sure kid 4 can read, I don’t trust the school and once she starts the boys will be able to help her. So many letters to write. Names, address’s, phone numbers to consolidate – Christmas card lists to make, at least there will be 12mnths for them to figure out Christmas the next year, should be right by then. Teaching someone to give a damn about the garden, worked hard on that and would like it to go on after me. A really big one is sorting out the post timing for 365, that’s critical to the plan.  

So much to do, too overwhelming. Kids occupied with technology, Nap time for me. Bye now.