Into the system…

blogging, work, mental health, therapy, disability, benefits and more…

Posts Tagged ‘anger

Am I Being Fair…?

with 14 comments

A question that is plaguing me and my relationship at the moment.

My partner has been objecting to what I’ve written about our arguments lately. I am not sure he appreciates me writing about our relationship in such a public, but one-sided way. Maybe it is unfair to expect him to sit back without the opportunity to say his piece, but I need somewhere to work all of this out. I need to know if I am making sense. I need someone to listen.

He is of course right that I am only showing my side of the story and I am not giving him the opportunity to defend himself. Maybe I could let him write his own post, give his own argument, but I’m not sure it would be suitable for publication! ;) It is true though that much of what I have written has presented the facts and I am not trying to criticise or upset him with these posts. He did indeed call my illness a “stupid teenage fantasy” and does indeed make little snide comments about my blogging, so he cannot argue with that.

He tells me though that I do not realise how much the things I write hurt him and that I shouldn’t portray him as some big evil monster. I don’t mean to do that. He isn’t. We really do have our problems at the moment, but I don’t think he acts with any malice. I don’t think he gets any pleasure out of annoying or hurting me. He just doesn’t know how to deal with everything that is going on. I’m pretty sure he genuinely tries to understand better, but I am just not sure that it works.

One thing he said was that his sulking is not in any way aimed at me. He said that when he read about me stopping my medication he was really angry and that when he went off to sulk he wasn’t trying to manipulate me, he was just taking time out so he didn’t do or say something he may regret. That seems fair enough. There are times I have to take myself away from a situation. The problem is though I am unsure. Even if he doesn’t mean it that way, it still puts me on the back foot and makes me feel guilty. Of course he says that is my problem and that I shouldn’t think everything is about trying to hurt me. I guess it is my own fault for feeling guilty, but perhaps he should find another way of staying in control and maybe he shouldn’t give me the cold shoulder when I try and find out what is wrong.

When I said that our long conversation (argument) on Saturday night didn’t get us anywhere he was upset as well. He felt it did help and that we were getting somewhere. He argued that I am always seeing the negative in things and that we’re never going to get anywhere if I continue with that attitude. Yes, we did say things that needed to be said, but I am unsure if we actually got any closer to finding a solution. I know that he was trying though.

We had another one of those conversations on Sunday night. He said he’d been making a concious effort all day on Sunday not to make the biting comments I find so frustrating, yet I can’t say I noticed an improvement. This confuses me. Are things really not as bad as I think they are, but because of the negative nature of depressed thinking I am feeling things more acutely? Am I just making things up to taunt myself with?

We seemed to spend a great deal of time discussing the merits of twitter. I do think things have escalated on the blogging-hatred front since I started using twitter more regularly. You may remember that I wrote a blog post about my feelings on twitter about a month ago. I myself was sceptical of its merits, but I have come around because I do genuinely think it is helpful and dare I say it? I enjoy it. I enjoy being in the middle of discussion between an interesting group of people. I like the fact that twitter is taking my blog to new audiences. I like the fact it is quick and I can log my thoughts without having to dwell or develop them.

One of his arguments was that 140 characters is far too little to say anything constructive. I thought that too at first, but I am amazed at what you can actually convey through a few short messages. Thoughts after all aren’t logically constructed into sentences and paragraphs when you have them, so sharing a few snippets can still get across the same message.

His other was that he doesn’t understand why I want to broadcast little snippets of info to a bunch of strangers. He doesn’t really understand why I want an audience on my blog. I know I didn’t really start writing this for an audience. I started as I hoped it would be therapeutic, but I have found it helpful, interesting and encouraging to know there are people out there that care. I have met people who I do genuinely count as friends and I have received a great deal of useful advice and support. I wouldn’t get all that from a paper journal hidden under my bed.

As for twitter and an audience. I only really intended it to be aimed at my blogging audience. Little extra snippets of information for those that already read. Little updates for when I don’t have the words for more. It has developed into a new outlet though and also a new source of readers to this blog.

We also talked about me and my illness. His main argument was that I do not try hard enough to get better. This is an argument I hate, because it implies such a lack of understanding about mental illness, that I thought I could have changed by now. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, it isn’t going to take this illness away. I may be able to ease some of the symptoms, but that will be as far as it goes. Yes, I know that lifestyle changes can be useful and I even know that eating better and exercise can help, but it is not a panacea. The eat better, exercise more, be a better person stuff just doesn’t wash.

He is worried that I am pinning all my hopes of recovery on finding a wonder drug and/or therapy and that I am not going to do anything myself to get better. I am hoping that one day I will find a cocktail of medication that helps. Most of the people I know that have had some recovery have been aided in that by medication. It is often pointed out at The Priory that you should take a three pronged approach to recovery: medication, therapy and lifestyle change. By pinning my hopes for recovery on therapy and medication I am not being lazy, just realistic. I would also hope that the fact I have hopes for therapy (when the NHS finally get their ass in gear) does suggest I want to do some of the work to get better myself. Therapy is far from an easy process and involves a great deal of hard work, work which I am going to have to do.

As an example of how I am being lazy and not trying hard enough, he says that I haven’t done anything to improve my sleep, except take a few pills. I have tried medication, but I’ve been through the sleep hygiene stuff too. Admittedly I’ve made less effort in recent months, but only because I have given up hope. I have spent years swinging between hypersomnia and insomnia, although in recent years I’ve been firmly in the insomnia camp. I have tried all sorts of things and nothing has succeeded in restoring “normal” sleep. What is normal is questionable anyway, because there are times when 4 hours is fine, other times when 4 hours is no where near enough and even times when 4 hours feels too much. Sometimes I can have 2 hours sleep and feel fine. Sometimes I can have 2 hours sleep and feel awful. Other times I can have 7 hours sleep and still feel exhausted. I guess it’s all linked to mood, but I guess it also means my sleep will never be great.

He suggests I need to follow more of the CBT and self-help stuff we went over at The Priory. Setting myself a routine and activity scheduling. I do need to get back into a routine, but it is understandable that things go haywire over Christmas. I know activity scheduling was something that was always encouraged at The Priory, but I never really found it helpful. I also worry that this is just another means for exerting control. He can try and make me follow a routine he approves of and if I don’t stick to it, then he can get angry and tell me I’m not trying hard enough.

His latest suggestion is that I only use the internet/blog in the evenings to try and contain the time I spend on here, but I fear this is merely so he will be around at the time I’m doing it. Of course him being around will mean I will spend even less time on here because the automatic guilt-trip will be triggered and secondly, he will be able to keep an eye on me whilst I do it. When I tried to go online this morning, forgetting this had been suggested, he got angry at me and told me I was only allowed online at night and that I should do as I’m told. I had never agreed to following his suggestion, yet he was determined to enforce it. I am not sure I’m comfortable with his assumption that I will do as I’m told

I can’t remember what else was discussed on Sunday. I don’t exactly enjoy the arguments and I have found my short term memory seems to be pretty selective. Some of the bits that provoke the strongest emotion and reaction stick, but the rest slips through my hands like sand.

I do remember that I gave up before the bloke was ready to stop. I couldn’t take any more of the argument and at 2am or whatever it was I was too tired to discuss anything properly. He was annoyed at this, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to start the discussion then anyway. It would be a lot easier to talk about such things when I’m actually functioning properly.

The thing is now I am confused and conflicted. I wonder if I’m being fair. I wonder if this is all my fault and if I am overreacting. I wonder if I am just seeing the negatives all the time. But things have got to the stage now that I am always suspicious of his motives. Is he trying to make me feel bad so that he can control me? Is he trying to guilt trip me into compliance? Is he just saying all of this to get his own way?

I wonder if anything will ever change. I really don’t know what to do.

Alison suggested on my last post we had some time apart and it is something I have thought about a lot myself, but I do not know how feasible it is. I hope that him going back to work will help. At least it will give us a few hours space. His cold is now improving, but his attempt to get to work this morning proved futile due to the snow. Both routes out of the village towards Warrington were difficult – one impassable and one almost so and he didn’t want to get stuck on the way back, so he turned around and came home. Unless it dramatically warms up overnight there’s little sign of him getting there tomorrow either. We’ve had another couple of inches since he got home this morning.

Even if he does get to work soon, a few hours apart probably isn’t going to be enough to help. Would a temporary separation be useful? It might make us realise what things we miss about each other and it might give me some space to get better. Our relationship was once long distance and it is true that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I just don’t know if he’d be happy about it and I don’t even know if I could. Things are not good at the moment and I wonder how Dr N and the CMHT will react if I am on my own. I wonder how I would cope. I worry that I would end up in hospital, perhaps not because he would get me sectioned or maybe even not because I couldn’t cope, but pretty much because there is no where else for me to go. I can’t exactly go home – my support is up here and I’d go mad after a couple of days with my parents anyway and I don’t really have any friends I could stay with. I don’t have anywhere else to go.

As has been mentioned before, I don’t think I am well enough to make any big decisions on our relationship whilst I am still in the acute throes of this illness. I am pretty sure things would be a lot easier if I was well. My illness has skewed the power relationship and I think that has escalated the worries about control. I think he wants to control me, because he wants to keep me safe. I am in a weakened position naturally, because he is my carer and ultimately if he wanted me in hospital he could make it so. Before I was his equal and I had things of my own and they gave me freedom. I had my career and my work friends, both of which I have lost through illness. I find it hard because I don’t feel I have anything of my own any more and that only adds to the feeling that I have no freedom anymore.

Admittedly we argued before I was ill, but it is true that arguments are a fact of life in relationships and things have been so much worse lately. The problem is, I can’t really remember the good times. A combination of depression and the effects of ECT means they’ve pretty much gone. I can barely remember our engagement. It makes it very easy to think that our relationship is all bad and maybe it should be over, when really things are just a little difficult at the moment and there is a lot going for us. NYE was our 7 year anniversary. That’s a long time and we must have been doing something right to get this far.

You would be forgiven for reading this post and thinking that our relationship struggles are the only thing going through my mind at the moment, but they are not. These struggles are the thing which I feel most able to write about, but on top of all this there are other struggles going on. I want to write about them, yet I am scared about doing so. The depression is pretty intense, but the agitation is back again and the only respite I have is my appreciation of snow. I love snow and it has been a welcome distraction from the worst of my thoughts. Sadly I know that as the snow melts that respite will disappear and I will be left with the misery that fills the rest of my mind. I do not relish that thought.

ESA Medical…

with 9 comments

I know I’m updating a lot all of a sudden, but I guess there are things I want to document this week. My talkative mood is probably helping too.

I made it to my medical this afternoon. I am so glad it is over.

I was all over the place during the interview. The doctor kept asking the same things over and over again and it was tiresome. My head was spinning, thoughts racing, agitation brewing. I kept forgetting what I had just said and found myself getting more and more worked up. I couldn’t keep still from the agitation. It didn’t help that she wasn’t following things, but I don’t know if that was me talking too fast or her being a bit slow. She kept mixing my doctors up (I know it’s complicated. I still have 2 psychiatrists!) which was getting really confusing.

She didn’t seem to ask me much about what I can and can’t do. She did ask if I got up, dressed etc (yes, with bullying from my bloke). She asked me if I went anywhere (yes, if someone takes me – I mentioned Creative Remedies). She asked me if I saw friends and socialised (sometimes). She asked about driving (no, not since October 2008).

We talked a little about my overdose in February and what happened afterwards. We talked about ECT. I told her when I’d been in hospital. We talked about my current care – The Priory and transfer to NHS, who does what. She asked me a million times if my doctors knew what I was telling her and who was most up to date with everything. I didn’t know why she was asking that so much. Maybe so she knows whether to trust any information she gets from them or so she could check up on what I was saying?

She kept asking me about suicidal thoughts. She wanted to know why I hadn’t tried again if I still experience the thoughts. She asked me literally 30 times if I had any active plans, maybe even more. She seemed quite concerned when I was honest about the extent of my thoughts, even though I have no real means or firm intention to act at the moment.

I was forced to talk about anger and violence. I couldn’t deny that it has been a problem of late, but I didn’t want to be seen as “dangerous”. I felt so uncomfortable talking about it.

We talked about mood. I found it hard to convey what it is really like. I told her about the current agitation and how this is a fairly new development. She suggested the agitation could have been caused by anxiety about the appointment. I didn’t think it was and denied it at the time, but since I’ve thought about it some more I think it may well have contributed. I really was all over the place whilst I was in there and anxiety must have been exacerbating the situation. I tried to describe the aching, dull, flat, numbing depression that has lingered on and off for ages. I tried to describe the mixed agitated depression that is often a problem. I don’t think I succeeded on any account.

I mentioned that my partner had given up his job to care for me and she asked me about this. Is he with me all the time? How often does he leave me on my own? Who does what in the house? Do I ever go out on my own? etc. etc.

When we went over my meds, she seemed surprised that I am taking melatonin and even asked if it’s a hospital-only prescription. Considering melatonin can be bought over the counter in the US, it does make you wonder why it is so reluctantly used over here. The CMHT seemed surprised too.

At one point towards the end, she left the office to go ask her colleague something and I couldn’t help but burst into tears. I’d been holding myself together up until then, but the stress of it all tipped me over the edge. I don’t know what it was as I barely ever cry these days. Girlie hormones probably aren’t helping at the moment, but even still it seemed ludicrous. Unfortunately she came back in whilst I was trying to pull myself together and then asked me a million questions about why I was crying. I was worried she would think I was putting it on for effect or something. I genuinely couldn’t help it, but was so embarrassed and paranoid about it.

Although she asked me a million questions I don’t know if she has got anywhere near enough information. Most of the stuff didn’t seem to be very relevant to whether or not I can work. Maybe she was just nosy? I guess that’s her job.

I cannot convey how erratic the whole appointment was. Questions were being fired in all directions and I was so mixed up I couldn’t answer her. My sentences were blurring into one. I was jabbering on and on and going off on tangents. I didn’t say half the things I should have. I was not clear at all. I’ve been going over things in my head since, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to work out her intentions and what she was thinking and asking. I know I should just forget about it and wait for the results, but my head is just looking for things to think about.

One thing I have noted is the clear effect of stress. I was anxious and stressed by the situation and I could not deal with it at all. I was turned into a whirlwind of agitated confusion. I’m just thinking about work and similar situations where I have to answer questions and think about what I’m saying. Conference calls for example. There is no way I can handle one at the moment. It’s okay doing that with a doctor that is trained to deal with it, but it is not okay to talk like a madwoman in front of your boss.

In some ways my inability to deal with the situation may stand in my favour. I suspect now I probably came across quite mad. After all, I need her to think I am too ill to work. The problem is, I think I may have come across *too* mad. I was incapable of answering her questions and I’m worried I may have messed up in some way. I’m worried I didn’t answer things clearly enough or that I missed things out. I am paranoid that she was trying to catch me out. I’m really worried she will think I was putting it on or making things up. I wasn’t, but I wasn’t “myself” either and that could be problematic.

Afterwards I was tired and didn’t really want to do anything. The session took it out of me and I needed processing time. Kinda like therapy actually. I guess it was similar in that I had to talk a lot about how I was feeling and what has happened.

Unfortunately I wasn’t really given that processing time as my bloke wanted me to do stuff. He forced me to clean my car, which took ages at it was filthy. As I’m not driving at the moment my lovely little car spends most of its time sat on the drive. It has been sat still so long that green slime was growing on all the window seals. Not good. It’s looking better now, but there are still bits that aren’t quite there.

My thoughts are still racing. I walked the dog this evening and I thought that would help calm me down but it hasn’t. I was distracted thinking about the medical, work, suicide, random pointless stuff, everything. I have music spinning around in my head on top of everything else. The “We buy any car” advert is driving me mad… we buy any car, we buy any car, any, any, any, any, we buy any car… Make it stop, please!!

I suspect I won’t be updating quite so much in the next few days. Nothing is happening. We are taking the dog to a breed show on Sunday, but that is all I can think of. I will see Dr N sometime at the end of next week. I have Creative Remedies too, but nothing unusual or exciting coming up.

Limited Capability for Work?…

with 2 comments

A little less agitated than yesterday evening at the moment, but I’ve had a terrible night’s sleep. I was very wound up all night and couldn’t keep still. My head was flying all over the place. Every time I drifted into sleep I had busy, fast, vivid, strange dreams. I was waking up from them every 30 minutes or so and wondering why I wasn’t doing all the things I was dreaming about and then I couldn’t get back to sleep because my mind was flying off on all these tangents inspired by the dreams. Things eventually seemed to calm down a little around 6-7am, so I did get a couple hours of sleep, but even then my sleep was littered with more dreams.

Part of this agitation may have been exacerbated by the argument I had with my partner last night. The night before I am due to go for an ESA medical, testing whether or not I am fit for work, he tells me I should just go back to work and implies that I am lazy, a skiver and not ill at all. This isn’t helpful.

He was telling me that I should just go back because unless I do, I’ll never be ready. He thinks I am just putting it off forever. He thinks I need to go back and try to work because until I do I can’t be sure if I am ready or not. This is of course true, but I think I need to be showing more signs of being ready before I try it.

There are of course a lot of things to lose by going back too soon and then having to stop working. The loss of my permanent health insurance income being one. I’d have to apply again for it, which is a lengthy process. The loss of ESA will be another factor, if of course they ever give me it. As I am claiming under youth rules I’d have to be off sick for another 6 months before I can claim again.

I suspect that he may in part be pushing me back for selfish reasons. He has of course given up a lot to look after me, but I think it is wearing thin and he doesn’t want to stay at home and care for me any more. I pointed out to him that if I am ready enough to go back to work then he shouldn’t need to care for me anyway and should just go out and get himself another job, but he didn’t seem to agree. The fact he still thinks I can’t be left on my own must tell him I can’t be expected to work. I would likely be on my own a lot in the office and there’s also the matter of getting to and from work. It would be easy to abscond.

My social worker seems to have a strange attitude to my employment. She was asking me if my goal for recovery is to get back to work. For me, the ultimate goal is being well enough to work again and more importantly for me, to go back to the job I loved doing. She seemed disappointed with this and almost surprised. It really felt as if she thought I shouldn’t expect to work again because of my mental health. Maybe she just feels I shouldn’t be working in a high-pressure, highly competitive environment, but for me, working in a simpler job wouldn’t be recovery. It would seem like a poor compromise.

To me her attitude to work seems bizarre. Surely her goal should be for me to return to a normal life, or at least as normal life as possible? I don’t think it should be expected that I will remain disabled and a full-time mental for life? I really fear that will happen and need as much help as possible to stop it happening. I know I have to face the fact that this illness isn’t going to go away and I will have to learn to live with it, but I hope that I will be living a fuller life than this sometime soon.

At the moment I don’t think I’m ready to go back to work. This sudden swing into agitation is a suggestion of that. Last time I tried to return to work I became very hypomanic, very quickly, probably aided by the fluoxetine I was on at the time. Work is likely to fuel this mood and send me up and up. Maybe that would be nice, but I’m not sure I’d be a productive employee.

Even if I hadn’t have entered this mood yesterday, I don’t think I’m ready yet. I am still battling suicidal thoughts almost constantly. Stress would only make these thoughts more urgent and amplify the need to escape this world.

There is also the matter of anger management. I’m not there yet. I have calmed down on a month or two ago, but I am still struggling with bubbling agitation. The smallest thing can send me into rage, wanting to hurt both myself and the cause of the anger. I have to admit I can’t take criticism. It was something I found hard before, but I usually turned it on myself mentally. Lately I’ve been literally hitting back and that is not suitable behaviour for work. I don’t want to be violent and I certainly don’t want to display that in the workplace. It would do nothing for reducing the stigma that mentally ill people are dangerous.

It is these things that I’ll be talking about today at the medical. I need to convince them I shouldn’t be working, yet I’m doubting this myself. I hate being hypocritical. I guess if I do get through the medical it is proof that I shouldn’t be working. If I can convince the DWP, who are notoriously bad at trying to get people back to work before they are ready, then I really must be ill. We will see. I don’t hold my breath.

There is a voice that tells me I am a fraud and I should just go back to work. I feel lazy, sitting around having nothing to do all day. I am trying to occupy myself, but I am not a productive member of society.

I am getting stuff done, but this only makes me think I should be working. Over the past couple of days I’ve embarked on a project to sort out all of my photos and to get them online. I used to have a photo gallery on my website, but I took it down when the domain was up to expire and since uni I’ve been very lazy about my photography. I have literally thousands of images, over 40gb worth. A lot of these are utter rubbish, but I want to find the ones that aren’t and get them out in the open. Anyway, the point of this is I’ve been sitting on my computer sorting this photos out and generally I’ve been able to concentrate on the task in hand. Considering a vast amount of my job is sitting at a computer then maybe I should be doing that and not just sorting out my photos.

I’ve been baking more recently and on Tuesday, I also made a load of home-made chocolates. I managed to do it successfully this time after a recent attempt involved me using semolina instead of sugar. Unsurprisingly the mixture had to go in the bin. They were popular at creative remedies yesterday, with many suggestions of having to sell them or give them as christmas presents.

I had even ventured back into the world of books and reading over the past month or so. I haven’t picked up a book for a couple of weeks, but I was getting there. I was reading stuff and even starting to enjoy it a little. I sometimes had to read paragraphs multiple times or forgot what I had been reading the previous day, but I was getting through the pages.

I also worry about this blog. The fact I can sit here and read and write. Does that mean I should be working instead of just writing about the fact I’m not? If people found this, would they use it against me to tell me I should be working?

This desire to work has of course has been amplified by my mood since yesterday. I have all these ideas of things I could be doing at work. I will not be on a project at first so need to find some internal work I could be doing. I can think of so many ways to improve our company. So many things that could be done and I want to be the person to do them.

There are barriers to returning. My doctors tell me I’m not ready. My social worker tells me I’m not ready. I need to go to occupational health before they will let me go back to work and they may well tell me I’m not ready. When will I know if I’m ready? How can they know?

Short Pause…

with one comment

It’s been 10 days since I last posted. Each time I keep thinking I should start writing more often again, but it doesn’t seem to happen. The gaps seem to get larger, not smaller.

I often think of things I want to write about, but I don’t seem to translate those thoughts into posts. I wanted to write about the NHS when the #welovetheNHS campaign was in full swing, but now I can’t really remember what I wanted to say and the moment has passed.

The last week or so has been up and down. A phrase I say so often.

I went to my parents for a few days last weekend. On Monday my sister, the dog and I trecked over to Porthcawl for the day. It was lovely weather and we enjoyed a splash in the sea, some fish and chips and icecream. Not a bad day really.

Tuesday involved bringing the dog home on the train. It was stressful, but we managed to get back safely. She slept a lot of the way taking up most of the aisle.

I saw Dr G on Wednesday. She increased the Lamotrigine again. I’m now on 125mg Mane, 100mg Nocte. Again it was an increase I expected. She is increasing the Lamotrigine by 25mg every 2 weeks. I wonder if it’s worth seeing her each time or if I’d be better off asking her to give my GP the instructions to increase it, thus saving myself some money. Seeing her every 1-2 weeks is not cheap.

I can’t remember what else we talked about. I remember her telling me she still thought it was too early for me to go back to work. Disappointment and relief. Disappointment that I am not well enough to go back. Relief that I don’t have to make the decision yet and that I am not being forced to go back too soon.

My social worker is still useless. I saw her on Thursday after forgetting I was meant to see her on Tuesday. She turned up at my house and I was at my parents 140 miles away. I guess that makes me useless too.

Anyway, we talked for a little while. She asked me if I’m interested in the creative remedies therapy group and the “positive thoughts” group. She’d forgotten to bring the information again so I’m not entirely sure what I’m letting myself in for. I agreed to both though so we shall see what happens. I’m pretty skeptical about the positive thoughts one. She said it’s simplified CBT, which rings alarm bells, especially as I’ve done non-simplified CBT in the past. I have visions of us sitting in group having to repeat affirmations. The groups are meant to start in September.

J came up with excuses about her failure to complete the referrals so far saying that the problem is she’s useless at doing paper work. More alarm bells ringing when she said that. I’m sure form-filling must be a huge part of her job so I wonder why she’s doing it if she can’t be bothered. I hope she does the referrals but I’m not holding my breath.

She also told me she’ll be with me at my psychiatrist’s appointment in September. I don’t want her to be, but I guess I have little choice. I’d rather I was on my own. I generally find I’m more comfortable with the psychiatrists and I have no trust in her at all, so I think I will find it hard to be open.

She didn’t think my appointment was with Dr B because the time doesn’t correspond to one of her clinics. I’m not surprised at that, but still a little disappointed. She did say who she thinks it will be but I can’t remember his name. Apparently he’s quite new and she doesn’t know what he’s like, which is a little worrying, but I get the impression that is quite normal with the NHS.

The rest of the time lately has been littered with arguments and random drops in mood. Friday evening was difficult. After a long argument with my partner I became hysterical and couldn’t stop crying. I find myself wanting us to break up and these episodes only make that wish stronger. I don’t know how we can carry on like this. The arguments are frequent and pointless. They just hurt us both and make life so difficult. I want to isolate myself from it all. It fuels my desire to not be here.

Earlier today I read this post on mentalnurse.org.uk. It talks of the anger at being saved from suicide. I still feel that anger and unlike Torah, I am not pleased to not be dead. I still wish that I had not been saved. I remember the disappointment of waking up and knowing I’d failed. I remember people asking me if I was glad to be alive and thinking they were insane. I still don’t understand how they could ask that. I didn’t make the decision lightly. I knew I didn’t want to be here anymore and failing to complete my plan did not change that decision. It’s still not changed that decision. I still want to be dead.

That’s not to say my suicidal ideation has not lessened. A few months ago I was constantly actively suicidal. Always thinking of plans, always looking for the next opportunity, always battling the thoughts. Now my thoughts come and go, but they are still a frequent annoyance. I have moments when the thoughts lessen, but I am never glad to be alive. Most of the time I’m still wishing I was dead.

I do not see the point in life, nor the appeal. I don’t understand anyone who is glad to be alive. I see life as a long hard battle with no positive outcome at the end. I don’t see why anyone would put themselves through that for any longer than is really necessary.

I don’t know what will come of these thoughts. I have managed to resist over the past 6 months, but I do not know how long I can keep this up. I have been kept safe for most of that time, unable to act when I have most wanted to. That supervision will of course continue while I still harbour the desire to be dead. I wish it wouldn’t but know I can’t stop them. There is anger there of course. An annoyance that I am not in control of my own life. I understand their reasons though and I know I have no choice but to comply. I just wonder how long for.

I wish that things will change. I wish I could find a zest for life. I wish that I could see a point to it all. I wish that there was enough hope to keep me going.

I find myself wanting to force the change, but I can only see one option for that and I know it’s not the one that everyone else desires. I worry that I will take that option regardless. Suicide is always the fall back position. My trapdoor to escape all of this.

Disappearing Posts…

with 5 comments

Some of you may have noticed that my posts disappeared yesterday for a while. My bloke and I had an argument and in order to hurt me, he signed into here and deleted my blog. Thankfully he had the nouse to back it up first, but I was still upset and felt violated.

I saw Dr N this morning. As always it was good to see him. He always gives me time and is understanding. We talked about various things, including the arguing and anger, work and the CMHT. I got my script and I now have my melatonin so here’s hoping I get a decent nights sleep soon.

He is still keen for me to go back to work, but I just don’t know how I can. I am still as low as I was last May when I was signed off initially. I can’t handle even the smallest thing and I just snap and lash out. I’m worried the stress would tip me over the edge and I’d end up hurting someone or killing myself. Last night I dreamt I was at work and I hit my old boss. It was horrible. I hate that vision of myself and worse, I know it is close to reality. I suspect I wouldn’t last a week, even on part-time hours. I really don’t want to go back before I’m ready, yet I don’t know if I will ever know when I’m ready. The longer I leave it, the harder it is getting.

I am getting frustrated at being left behind and the way this illness has ruined my career. If I’d been well I’d be promoted this September. I am being left behind by my colleagues that started with me. Even worse, people that started after me and who were not as good at their job as me are being promoted ahead of me. I feel like a failure.

I fear returning to work and people’s thoughts about me. I fear the questions about my absence. I fear people’s confusion over why I’ve been in the company over 2 years, but have not been promoted to the next level. I fear people will think I’m useless because of that.

So far I’ve had some fairly negative reactions to my time off from work due to illness and that both upsets and worries me. I feel that I’ve lost people’s respect. What if I can’t find a new project because every manager is too worried about my sickness record? What if they treat me differently?

There is part of me though that is dying to go back. I want to get out of the house and start my life again. I want the freedom and independance that work will give me. I want the social life that work gave me. I want the daily routine. I want a reason to carry on. I’m fed up of this illness ruining my life. I want to go back and be better than ever.

I know that going back would not be the same. I loved my old job, but this wouldn’t be my old job. I will be working on a new project with new people. At first I will not even be on a project, which will be strange and difficult. I don’t want to return to a watered down version. A phased return would be painful for me, even though I know it is for the best. I want an exciting project and want to be in the thick of things. I don’t want to do pointless activities for the sake of it. I don’t want to be stuck in the Manchester office all the time. I don’t want to be learning how to do my job again. I am worried I just won’t be as good at it as I used to be. I am not as sharp and find everything so difficult.

When I went back to my old role for a few days last August, I found it unbearable not being able to do my old job. I found it unbearable knowing that someone else was now in control. I won’t be going back to the same project this time, so maybe that won’t be a problem, but then I’m scared about starting over again with something new.

There are also the small issues of the finance side of things. If I go back my permanent health insurance would be stopped. Initially it is complicated as I won’t be working full hours, but I’d be on some form of pro-rata pay. Also I’m currently applying for ESA. If I tried to go back to work and found I couldn’t manage it, I wouldn’t be eligible to claim again for another 28 weeks. It’s not exactly an incentive to try and go back before you are ready.

I guess we shall see what happens. I am signed off for another 6 weeks or so anyway so won’t be deciding before then. Dr G said yesterday she doesn’t think we can consider it until at least the end of September and I’m not sure I’ll be ready then. I will also have to attend an Occupational Health appointment before they let me back. OH of course might decide that I’m not well enough anyway.

Written by intothesystem

Thursday, 13th August 2009 at 12:36 pm

Anger…

with 3 comments

This is something I’m really ashamed about. Over the past few weeks I’ve been agitated and struggling to manage my anger. Worse still, I’ve often resorted to violence. I have been afraid to admit that there is a problem. I don’t want to reinforce stigma. I am afraid of reinforcing the prejudice that mentally ill people are dangerous and violent.

Over the past month or so things have become more problematic. I have found myself getting angry and agitated, often for no real reason. Things seem to happen very quickly and there doesn’t need to be a trigger. Sometimes I just seem to be agitated and aggressive and I’ve been taking it out on the bloke, both verbally, and more recently, physically, mainly punching, kicking or throwing things. Sometimes I guess I could probably be compared to a toddler throwing a wobbler! I pretty much lose all insight and the smallest thing makes things worse.

Normally, I wouldn’t say I’m someone with a temper. I tend to be pretty calm and argue my point constructively. Although I can get frustrated and agitated at times, I am usually able to contain things and don’t lash out.

In the past I have snapped and thrown things during periods of depression and agitation, but I’ve never directed it at any thing other than myself or the wall. Unfortunately that has changed recently and I’ve started to lash out.

A week past Sunday there was an incident when we were out walking the dog. I’d asked my bloke to do something and he’d ignored me. I asked him why he had ignored me and he said it was because he thought what I wanted him to do was stupid. I argued with him and ended up throwing a stone at him. It was an impulsive action and I didn’t really expect to hit or hurt him. He ducked and it missed, but then he picked it up and threw it back at me hitting me on the head. I made no attempt to avoid the stone. It was almost as if I wanted him to hurt me and I felt I deserved it. It really hurt, leaving me crying hysterically, although I think I was more upset about losing control than I was about the pain.

Last Monday there was another incident. Similar trigger in that I’d asked my bloke to do something and he didn’t, although this time I was even quicker to anger. He didn’t respond immediately so I threw the pair of trainers I was carrying at him. He snapped and hit me back, but I didn’t seem to care that I was being hurt.

I know that my bloke will probably fight back if I hit him, but I don’t care., although often I don’t realise I’m doing anything until I get hurt. There are times though when I’ve punched my partner and he’s threatened to punch me back and I’ve continued even though I know it will eventually hurt. I seem to almost seek the pain. Perhaps it is some weird form of self-harm.

Sometimes these outbursts can be triggered. My bloke does have a habit of purposefully trying to wind me up and taking the piss out of me. I used to just ignore him or get annoyed but not lash out, but lately I’ve been unable to handle this. I just have no tolerance for unfunny “jokes”.

There seems to be this constant underlying irritability and it doesn’t take much to provoke it. I am getting agitated at the smallest things. I just feel so wound up and unable to relax or contain it.

I am worried that things are getting worse. Before, I was getting angry and irritable, but I wasn’t violent. I have threatened violence in the past, but never actually tried to hurt someone. Recently though I’ve even threatened to strangle or stab my partner. I know it’s not right, but at the time I really do want to. I’ve managed to resist and he is also pretty good at restraining me (he is far stronger than I am), but I’m scared that something bad will happen. I don’t trust myself. I never thought I’d throw a stone at someone and I have, so what is to say I won’t just throw a knife across the room if I’m using one and someone upsets me.

I did think that perhaps the Nitrazepam was to blame. After all, one of the worst episodes was the trip to The Peak District after the dose was increased. When I explained what happened here, I didn’t really mention the fact I was quite aggressive. I was too ashamed to admit it.

I admitted things to Dr G last Thursday and she seemed to be pretty concerned. I wrote her a long note as I didn’t think I could explain things face-to-face due to the shame. She wanted me to talk to her rather than use the note, but I found the note easier. I think she saw it as a bit of a backwards step as I’ve not had to write to her recently. We’ve come on a long way in terms of our relationship and I find it a lot easier to be open and honest with her than I used to.

Anyway, she expressed her concern and asked plenty of questions. She even went as far to say that she thinks this anger and violence is as dangerous as suicide. I guess risk of harming others is grounds for admission, just as much as risk of harming oneself.

She was worried that me and my bloke are making things worse for each other and that we are almost self-destructing. I think she is right.  She said that I just have to try and take myself away from the situation and calm myself down as much as possible. If I’m feeling agitated then I have to warn the bloke to stay away and not wind me up!

We have agreed that I should come off the Nitrazepam, although we are not convinced that is to blame. Dr G thinks that this agitation and aggression is a sign that the Bipolar Disorder is not controlled well enough yet. She increased my Lamotrigine again, but also said that we may have to reconsider adding Lithium as a top-up treatment.

We talked about sleep but she decided not to try anything else for now. She wants to see if the increased Lamotrigine helps my mood at all and doesn’t want any sleepers to interfere I guess. My sleep has been terrible both before and since I saw her. I am struggling to get any sleep before it is getting light each day.

She asked me to pop in to see her in a week as she wants to monitor things more closely again. I’m seeing her on Wednesday, so we shall see what happens then. I can barely afford more frequent appointments, but I understand her concern and think the support is probably more important than the money.

I now of course know when I’ll be seeing the NHS psychiatrist, so I guess I’ve got another 6 weeks of Dr G before someone else. I don’t know what is going to happen when I see Dr B. I was meant to stop seeing Dr G, but I don’t want to. I think I may consider continuing to see her privately, even though the CMHT aren’t happy with it. We shall see anyway.

Written by intothesystem

Monday, 10th August 2009 at 9:50 pm

Not so good…

with 10 comments

I’m not so good at the moment. I can feel the suicidality brewing and I don’t feel able to, or particularly want to stop it. I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t remember when I was not suicidal and sometimes that makes it hard to take myself seriously, but I can feel it getting closer. I know I should be shouting up and I guess here I am, but I don’t want to. I don’t want anyone to stop me. I am fed up of being kept safe.

On top of that, my relationship is in tatters. I have been struggling for a while. I am out of control and trying to destroy everything we once had.

We’ve been together six and a half years so this is not a small thing. We are engaged and we’ve been through a lot together. There should be so much holding our relationship together yet I find myself wanting to tear it apart.

It is all my fault. It is me that feels I can’t live with anyone else. It is me that screams for independence. It is me that wants to isolate myself from those that love me. It is me that cannot feel love for anyone or anything. It is me that doesn’t care. It is me that is heartless and selfish. I hate myself for this.

I don’t know why I want to throw everything away. I just don’t feel comfortable in this relationship any more. I find myself feeling trapped and controlled. I question my feelings. I don’t know whether I love him any more. I don’t know if that is depression making it hard for me to love or care for anything or if it is really how I feel. It is a constant battle in my head.

I’ve gone as far as telling my bloke that I want us to break up. I don’t know if it’s the right decision but it’s what my head wants most at the moment. I know I shouldn’t be saying this if I am not sure, but I can’t help it. I have screamed it in fits of anger and irritation and I have repeated it during quieter moments. Saying it though is different to doing it. We are still together.

I don’t really have a choice at the moment. I have to stay. I have been told by Dr G that now is not the time for life changing decisions. I am not well enough to make an informed decision. I am told that things will probably improve when I’m better. I am told that I can always make the decision then if they don’t. I know this, yet I still find myself screaming to get out now.

I also don’t have a choice because I am trapped by fear of section. My partner has already told me that if I dumped him and tried to move out he would get me sectioned. He doesn’t trust me to live alone and refuses to let me break up with him just to make it easier for me to kill myself. I don’t see how it would be any of his business if we were no longer together, but I guess he still cares. It leaves me scared enough to stay.

There are other things that make me hold back. I fear the embarrassment of a failed engagement. I don’t want to admit that things are not good. I don’t want to admit that I was wrong. I don’t want to give in to those that said I was too young. I also fear my parents’ reaction. I don’t want to let them down.

Then there are the practicalities. We live together and splitting up would not be easy. Our lives are entwined. We have so much stuff together. We share the same friends. We have the dog and the guinea pigs. I wouldn’t know where to start if we had to separate ourselves.

My partner doesn’t know how to react. I know this is understandable. He loves me and doesn’t want to lose me. I tell him how I feel and he won’t listen to me. One minute he is angry with me and throws abuse. The next he tells me how much he loves me. We keep arguing about it. It’s painful.

I find myself getting upset when I think about the relationship ending. I wonder if that is a sign that it should continue. I don’t know. I know he still loves me and for that I feel guilty. The guilt is painful and maybe that brings the tears. I think it is loss though that really makes me sad. Loss of what was once there. I did love him once. I just don’t know if I still do.

For now we carry on as if none of this is really happening. It is a battle within my head. I don’t know what will happen. My bloke may eventually break and realise he doesn’t want me either. I may change my mind and realise I love him after all. We may just carry on in a broken relationship forever, neither of us able to leave. Something needs to happen though because the current situation is no fun.

Written by intothesystem

Saturday, 11th July 2009 at 10:16 pm