Catch Up

 I have been through a lot in the last few months and some of my thoughts and so forth were documented over the time but they are fairly scattered, so I am doing my best to write down what happened in the order it happened and eventually get back to writing in the present tense!
I will let you know that today, I am in a better frame of mind.

Friday Five: Fucked-up-ed-ness

You know your fucked up when....

1. You spend the morning sorting out your pre written suicide notes to see which one fits best this week.

2. You put 5 days worth of your pills into a pile, take a photograph and cry about having to take meds every day while simultaneously searching for your dope stash and swigging from a wine bottle.


3. You wake up in the morning and decide to take a shower. The reason this is fucked up is because you are planning to burn yourself and you know that the hot shower will sting it more, even though you know that you deserve that pain anyway.

4. You drop the kids at school early and spend the next hour pacing past the club waiting for it to open so that you can blow all your money on the pokies.

5. You cant cope with eating something that is 100 calories during the day but you get home and binge yourself stupid on ice-cream and raisin bread.

Meds, Phone calls and other things I avoid.

I look down into my hand at the little pile of multi-coloured meds for the morning. Yes I started taking them again, only lasted a week because I am far more dependent than I realised and the withdrawals were becoming too obvious to hide.

The deep feelings of inadequacy this twice daily ritual encompasses are seemingly endless.

Today I finally googled the names of some psychologists that were recommended to me 6 months ago, unfortunately I am not the Queen and as my funeral would cost less than a visit to them that impracticality put me firmly back to square one.

 I then called the local mental health team to ask for a phone number for the psychologist that is covered by medicare. I need a referral from my GP then I can make an appointment.

GP is away until May. Might call back if I can be bothered seeing her - not much point once May hits, a little late anyway I reckon.

I have consolidated a folder containing PDF downloads and great resources for the family of suiciders … suicidees? Suicide victims, people who commit suicide… whadevva you want to call them I have a stockpile of info to validate their feelings and give them ideas of ways to cope.

I have been binging like a mother fucker and my fat is expanding daily. None of my clothes fit me and a very small part of me WANTS to go to hospital PURELY because I can't binge there.

I’m going to go smoke a joint and go back to bed now. Not just because I am depressed but also because I have a killer sinus infection and my whole face hurts.

I did something naughty...

 I stopped taking my meds.

The Lamictal, Lithium and Seroquel combination. Stopped the lot of them, cold turkey.

After some killer withdrawals for approximately 48hrs I am feeling more clear headed than I have in I can't remember how long! I actually feel like a person, heck I can FEEL - I have been numb as hell for so long I forgot what it feels like to be human. - I LIKE feeling human!

That being said I only got 4hrs sleep last night and its currently 2:44am and I am not even remotely tired that coupled with some other mild hypomanic symptoms that I have been having over the last week or so, it is possible that I am heading up.

I think that feeling like I was going up is part of the reason I have now stopped the meds, I really NEED to go up and don't want it jeopardized the suicidal zombie self was getting old and I cant live like that for much longer.

I am pretty much thinking that even if this isn't simply a lovely hypo productive plateau and if this does tailspin into a full blown manic episode in a few weeks time, its fucking worth it, heck what have I got to lose?

Best that will happen is they are all wrong, it's not bipolar and I will be fine and dandy and never have another episode anyway.
Worst that will happen is I go nuts, they lock me up and medicate me back to zombie- again.
Nothing lost, just a chance of normalcy for a while or more or at least a little fun along the way.
I hate being controlled by doctors, meds, people in general!

Nope, screw everyone its ME TIME!

The School Of Life

We all spend hours, days sometimes weeks pondering the meaning of life, finding the point of it all, I mean surely there is a point to it all, right? The trouble is while we look for the meaning of life we are constantly focusing on all the negative aspects such as Aunt Joan died of cancer, why? What was God/Allah/Buddah’s plan? When we focus on the worst parts we are turning a blind eye to the many good things that occurred before this event. One might say that so many people were devastated by Aunt Joans death that the funeral was packed – rather than thinking how wonderful it was to have an opportunity to share a part of their life with a wonderful person like Joan who had clearly touched so many peoples lives.

The meaning of life isn’t about the great plan from a higher being, it is actually very simple:

It is to simply live. No different to the ants or the sunflowers we are here to live, just that we as humans are lucky enough to have free will over our decisions and surroundings, intelligent enough to influence the world around us and emotional enough to love, laugh and cry.

That thing you are doing when you are not asking ‘why?’ the thing you do unconsciously every day. That, is living and that IS the point to it all. When you are looking at the negatives, you are blinding yourself to the reality of what you have, the positives that are all around you and the lessons you are able to learn and the fun to be had in Earths playground it is the school of life.

You only get one shot at this life, make the most of it until your lessons are learned, then retire to pasture or wave farewell with dignity.

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.

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.