Into the system…

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

Posts Tagged ‘sleep

Long overdue post…

with 16 comments

I thought it was time to explain where I’ve been, but I am not planning on staying long. Just a quick hello and goodbye for now. I feel bad it’s taken me so long, but I wasn’t sure what to say and kept putting it off.

I guess I have just been busy in the real world. That and the fact I had therapy. It seems that having a one hour session a week to contain any mentalism and to whine and moan, meant that I didn’t feel the need to come here. I have just 2 sessions of therapy left now, so by the end of August that may change. Maybe I will come back sometime, but I don’t know. My therapist was never keen on me blogging whilst I was seeing her and although I wanted to continue, in part to rebel against her disapproval, it just didn’t happen. I seemingly ran out of things to say.

I’m not sure how useful therapy has been. We have hardly looked very deep or at anything especially long-term. The therapy itself was neither very long term nor intense, but that didn’t surprise me. It might have been what I supposedly needed, but the NHS was unlikely to ever provide it. I will have had a total of 20 sessions, spread over 8 and a bit months. It would have ended a lot sooner had my sessions not been on a Monday, meaning plenty of missed weeks for bank holidays, my holidays, her holidays, sickness, her training etc. She’s away again next week. I can’t wait for the sessions to end and to get my Mondays back.

So aside from therapy I’ve been busy in the real world. My mood was really quite crappy in Feb and it got to the point where I gave in and started Mirtazapine on top of my other meds in the hope it would lift my mood and help me sleep. I wasn’t keen on the idea, but it seemed to help with the mood at least. It knocked me out for all of 2 days before the insomnia returned. Coupled with the arrival of spring, my mood recovered sufficiently that I stayed in work throughout the mini-episode, albeit on just a few hours a week.

Since then my mood has continued to improve and I’m now relatively “well”. My hours at work have been increased steadily and I’m now working part time, roughly 22hrs a week on some vaguely proper work rather than mundane tasks. I’m still internally based, but the work I’ve been doing has been pretty interesting and I’ve even had colleagues to work with, although we were at different ends of the country most of the time. I did get to spend a couple of weeks in London with them though delivering some training, which was awesome and I’m down again for a few days this week. I’m back to more mundane stuff again over the next few weeks though, but generally my employer have been good at finding me things to do and helping me to get back. I genuinely love my employer and my current HR team. They have been pretty instrumental in keeping my mood afloat and life feels hopeful. Dr N (GP incase you’ve forgotten in the last 6 months) said to me the other week he’s amazed at how well things are going and I’m inclined to agree.

The only remaining issue really is my sleep. It is still poor at best. When I have been working away it has been worse than poor. There have been nights where the whole experience has been painful and fear-inducing and I just wish night never happened and that my body didn’t need sleep at all. I take forever to get to sleep, when I do get to sleep I am drifting in and out of consciousness and dream worlds. I have frequent nightmares and strange dreams. Sometimes I am unsure where reality meets my dreams and everything becomes very strange and scary. I wake up and fall asleep dreaming and wake up and fall asleep and dream and wake up etc on a roughly 10 minute cycle for a few hours and then I can’t get back to sleep again and then often it’s time to get up. Or I am just awake for hours and it is only 6am or something when I fall asleep and then I should be getting up and can’t drag myself out of bed. There seems to be little to no sign of improvement, even after reducing the reboxetine in June. I explained how desperate it was making me to Dr N and he gave me an emergency supply of Temazepam in the hope that if I had a back up plan it might help reduce my anxiety about sleep. I’ve taken it on one occasion and it didn’t seem to help, but I’m too scared to take it on a night when I need to be awake the next day incase for some strange reason it decides it might work for once and I can’t get up! Benzos have never been much help though, but at least they don’t seem to make the whole dream/hallucination thing worse like the Z drugs do. Sleepers just don’t work. No chance of me ever getting addicted.

I’m still sleeping badly and basically just putting off the time when I should try and go to sleep this evening by writing here. I’m in a hotel again, which makes it worse. At home I’m made to go to bed at the time when my bloke dictates he wants to go to bed and I am forced to stay there so I don’t want to wake him or the dog up too much.. If I wake up from a nightmare or anything he helps to bring me back to reality quicker and his presence calms me down. Usually his snores are a reminder that everything is fine and normal and the wardrobe isn’t full of strange men trying to chase me (or whatever else decides to infiltrate my dreams and reality that night). Here in a strange hotel room the boundaries between reality and nightmareworld are a lot more blurred because there is no one to calm me down and I can never quite remember where I am. Monday night was bad. Just wide awake all night. No sign of sleep and increasing frustration at the lack of sign of sleep, which never helps. Yesterday was better, but still not great. I had a lot of dream stuff going on and the every 10 minute waking thing, but at least I got some sleep. I’m meant to be trying to keep a sleep and dream diary for the next fortnight for the therapist, but the problem is I often wake up panicked and even screaming, having no idea what it was that was making me scared. I rarely remember much content. I’ve been trying to keep the notebook by the bed and jotting things down, but that wakes me up even more and just prolongs the wakeful periods between the dreamfilled ones. The problem is though none of that sleep is quality. It isn’t restful and doesn’t recharge the batteries. Eventually I have to get the sleep somehow. During the first weekend of the last 2 week stint in London (a month ago) I just crashed and slept a lot (at least by my standards! I was in bed a lot). The second week was not so bad. The first week at home was better and last week less so. This week has been worse again. I could do with crashing and catching up again, but that is unlikely to be an option any time soon with a wedding to attend on the weekend.

If I could just get the sleep issue fixed I really could be convinced that life is getting back to normal and all will be well and good. Life is getting there. This may be “recovery”, but this is definitely holding me back. It still makes the prospect of full-time work scary and possibly impossible. My shortened days at the moment make the sleep issue less of a problem – I start work late and that seems to help.

Anyway, I should stop writing. I was only meant to be here to say bye and sorry for not saying it sooner. I seem to have written a massive post. Maybe I haven’t lost the ability to blog after all. I don’t think that means I’ll be back though.

I haven’t read many blogs of late either. I am very much out of the loop in terms of the madosphere and haven’t even read any TWIM since it moved. In fact I went weeks without looking at a single blog post, but I’ve read the odd one since, just to check you’re all still there. There are a few of you I miss a lot. Some I am in touch with in the real world. Some whom I’m not. If I’ve stopped reading, it doesn’t mean I’m not thinking of you. I do appreciate everyone who has been reading and around for me when I needed it and everyone that ever commented here. I feel a bit guilty for not being around for you, now that I don’t need it so much. Sorry.

I shall sign off. I may be back one day. I may be back another day. I may never be back. I don’t know.

Take care xx

Written by intothesystem

Wednesday, 3rd August 2011 at 10:46 pm

Home Alone…

with 18 comments

Time keeps passing. I don’t know where it goes to.

This weekend has been somewhat strange. The bloke is away for the weekend at a stag do and I’m home with just the doggy for company. I don’t remember the last time I was here on my own overnight, let alone for a whole weekend, so I don’t really know what to do with myself. Aside from my trip in the summer, there have been so few times when I’ve been without the bloke for more than a day since we went to uni. I was “well” in the summer too and now things are not so easy. I am managing, but it has made me realise how used I am to having him around and how much his presence keeps me functioning. Without him here, the temptation to give in and give up is so much greater.

Getting up and dressed is a struggle at the moment and I feel even less urge to conform when I don’t have reminders from the bloke. The guilt wears on me when he’s about and it serves to push me into action. It was only the desperate requests from the dog to be let out, that dragged me out of bed this morning. The thought of having to clean up any mess was enough to force me downstairs, but I climbed back in when she was sorted. I had to get up in the end as I was going over to a new friend’s for her kiddy’s 1st birthday party, but it took me literally hours to work myself up to that. Without that commitment today, the temptation would have been to stay in bed all weekend.

Food is another problem. The bloke is the cook in our house. I can bake cakes, but when it comes to a proper meal I don’t tend to bother. I don’t have the best appetite these days, but when food is presented to me I do tend to eat. Without the bloke around to cook for me, I don’t tend to bother. I’m even less inclined to cook at the moment as both our oven and the microwave are broken.

The dog is a commitment too and she does keep me going, but she isn’t as effective at nagging as the bloke is and I find the commitment straining. She did get me up this morning and she gets me into the kitchen, prompting me to eat at the same time that I feed her, but she is also tiring and I feel guilty when I just want to stay in bed and ignore her. She also got me to go outside for a walk, which I know is good for me, but at the same time I wish I didn’t have to. It’s so tempting not to bother, but I cannot deny her a walk for long or she turns into a great big bonkers thing, which is even more draining to live with than the walk.

I’m really tired. I want to sleep forever, yet sleeping for just a few hours seems to be enough of a challenge. It was late when I finally dragged myself upstairs to bed last night and I sat and knitted up there for a while because I couldn’t sleep.

Before the bloke left, I had to promise I’d be safe this weekend. He has been somewhat paranoid over the past few weeks that I’m suicidal again. The last two years have been particularly difficult at this time, in the run up to my birthday, so I know he is on edge. He doesn’t trust me at all and although I know his fears are not unfounded and it is only because he cares, it is still hard. One day last week I had nipped out and wasn’t home when he was due back from work. My mobile phone battery had died so he couldn’t get hold of me. I’d even left a note to say that I’d be back in a minute, because I worried that without my phone he would wonder where the hell I was, but he didn’t see it and just flew into a tailspin instead. He completely jumped to conclusions and panicked that I’d gone out to kill myself.

I’d actually nipped out to rescue the dog’s ball because she had lost it on our walk and I couldn’t get it out of the brambles and control her at the same time. She has a habit of diving head first into all the brambles and rose briers to rescue her ball then getting stuck – we both end up cut and bleeding, as I have to battle to rescue both her and the ball. I literally had to drag her home, shut her in the house and then go back out to dig out the ball from the bushes. By the time I got home I was greeted by the bloke just about to drive off in my car to try and find me, ranting and raving with anger. This isn’t the first time this has happened, but it the first time in a long while and I was disappointed that things had not moved on and that the trust hasn’t been rebuilt by now.

It turns out that he mainly panicked because he had been reading my mood log. I was updating one online and I had no idea he had been reading it. I tended to keep my notes in there very short and they were only for me, so a note mentioning suicidal planning thoughts did not necessarily mean what he thought it did. I was angry that he had invaded my privacy again, but I know it only comes from fear and concern. I don’t feel able to update the log any more though. It was meant to be for me and no one else. A reminder of how things are, because so often I cannot remember what my mood was like a week or a month ago.

But anyway. I agreed that I will be safe. I am safe, but it doesn’t mean the temptation isn’t there. My mood is low and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it. This weekend would have been the perfect opportunity and there are times when I cannot help the thoughts, but I have resigned myself to sticking around for a while yet.

I know the fact it is winter and in the run up to my birthday can’t be helping. I have been in hospital at this time for the last two years, and both times I was desperately suicidal and determined not to be around for my birthday. This year I seem to have accepted that I will be around and although I am not overly happy about it, I’m resigned to it. I am low and I don’t really want to be alive, but I feel the obligation to be. Also, I’m not sure why, but being 25 seems like a much better idea than 24 anyway – something about round numbers I think. My worry is that I’m already having to battle the thoughts that 25 is a good age to die. I have no desire to see 26, even if I am sure I will see 25. I hope that my mood will pick up before those thoughts get too strong or that the approach of my 26th birthday gets too urgent.

As for my 25th birthday, as Seaneen will recall, my invite for a smear test arrived. I went and had it a couple weeks ago and it was fairly painless and straightforward, although I bled quite a bit afterwards. Unfortunately though I got a letter on Thursday saying the result was “inconclusive” so I have to go and have another one in three months. I think this was just a case of not enough cells, at least that’s what I’m hoping, but it’s still pretty annoying to have to wait before they do it again.

In other news, I’ve had a review form for DLA to fill in for a couple of weeks now and I’ve failed to do it. I wrote to them before Christmas at the same time I wrote to notify the DWP that I was starting work part-time for ESA purposes, to say there had been *some* improvement to my condition since my initial application for DLA. I felt I had to, as I have been receiving Higher Rate Care and I am not sure I should be getting that rate any more. They sent me out a review form and I started to complete it, but I made a complete mess. I filled in my surname in the first name section, my date of birth wrong and made mistakes all over the place, because I couldn’t concentrate enough to fill it in and my memory is so shoddy I kept forgetting things. After some frustration, I rang them to ask for another form because I had made so many mistakes. I got this replacement two weeks ago now and I have still not even started it. Thankfully because I requested the review rather than them, there is no deadline for me to get it back, but I know I need to do it. I can’t face it though. I can copy across the stuff that was correct on my first attempt, but I don’t know what to do about the rest of it. The form is overwhelming and I don’t know what to write, especially as my mood has been so unstable of late. Sometimes I look at the form, think nothing is wrong and answer everything as if I was fine, but other days I look at the form and realise I can’t do any of the things it asks, including filling in the form for that matter. I know you have to say how your good and bad days very and highlight what the worst case scenario is, but I just don’t know what to write. I don’t even know what to put in the diagnosis section. Should I have told them that my diagnosis is under question back when it was first questioned a year ago, or can I just tell them I don’t know any more? I guess the latter is the truth, I don’t know, but I’m not sure if I should have told them I don’t know. As far as DLA and ESA are concerned, I assume they think my diagnosis to be Bipolar II disorder, which is what it was when I applied. As I don’t know what it has been changed to, I guess I can’t tell them, but I worry about what Dr M or Dr N will write when asked. I hate having to evaluate how bad I am. I honestly don’t know.

Hmm I don’t know what else to write. There are things I keep thinking about to write, but I just don’t know what to say. It has been the same all week. For weeks really. I am meant to be keeping a diary for therapy again and I haven’t managed to write anything properly. I just don’t know what to say. Brain is mush. I cannot think, I can barely feel. I just want a new head.

I am feeling increasingly agitated this evening. I am not sure why. Maybe now is the time I stop and knit for a bit to see if it calms me down. I spent a lot of yesterday knitting – I made a hat for the little boy’s birthday today and started a frilly scarf and it kept me busy and distracted whilst I was on my own. It’s the first thing I’ve done for a while. I haven’t had the motivation or the concentration for a while. Sometimes I get the urge to knit and think of a million projects I could be doing and other days I cannot even comprehend lifting the needles. There has been a lot of the latter lately, yet yesterday my head was buzzing with ideas of things I could knit. I can only knit so much though and when my concentration is so crap lately as much as I want to make these magical creations, there’s no way I’m actually able to. I end up having to undo as much as I do.

hmm. Head is starting to spin. I’m both tired and agitated and feel like I may need to throw things soon if things get any worse. I don’t know why I am feeling like this. I have been good lately and I’m avoiding caffeine in the hope that would ease the occasional agitation, but it doesn’t seem to be helping. Maybe I should just go to bed and try to sleep or maybe I should have a bath. Perhaps I’m just grouchy and tired. I don’t know.

This is a bitty post. I don’t seem able to write properly at the moment. I started writing this about 4pm and it’s now 11.30pm. It’s not even very long. I have found it really hard to try and get things down or to concentrate on it. I have watched bits of TV and fed the animals and stuff in between, but the rest of the time I have just been staring at the box wondering what to put in it, or more likely how to slow down and speed up and unravel my thoughts to try and type them. Some of the time it feels like my brain is like treacle and the thoughts are just so slow and other times they are bouncing around and rattling off the sides and at the moment both is happening at the same time and it just feels like a big ball of mush. It all makes no sense.

Anyway I am going to stop and kick the dog outside. She’s already taken herself to bed, but she needs to go out or I’ll get woken up very early in the morning! I don’t intend on being up early. The bloke isn’t due back until at least mid-afternoon and I think I’m leaning towards a morning of hibernation.

A little unstable…

with 7 comments

I have been quiet over the past month or so. I keep thinking “oh, I really must get around to writing that post”, but it never seems to happen. I do start posts, but somehow they never get finished and by the time I get around to it they have become irrelevant and I end up having to start again. I guess if I started writing shorter posts, it might not take me so long to finish them!

My last proper post (excluding the 2010 review) was pretty negative, but an accurate reflection of my mood at the time. Things have improved a since then, although they still feel a bit shaky. I felt really really awful for a few weeks, but Christmas was bearable and I was able to keep going without slipping any further, so that is encouraging. If that is as low as I get, I can survive, but I don’t know how much lower I could go without ending up back where I was a year or more ago. There were definitely times when I didn’t think I’d make it to here, which was worrying – I’ve not felt like that for a while now, but it has passed now really.

Over the past week I have felt a little on the edge. Motivation has been somewhat lacking and I feel exhausted and low, yet there has been a strange bouncier edge to it too at times. Things don’t feel stable any more. 2010 was a year of relative stability. During summer things were pretty consistent and I felt quite well. Since autumn I’ve been consistently low, but mild depression is manageable. Now I’m all over the place. A few days feeling better, a few days feeling rubbish, one day where I feel all over the place, another where I feel strangely mixed, the occasional day when I just feel normal. There is no consistency at all anymore.

My sleep in particular is a mess. I really struggle to get up each morning and feel exhausted, but then I spend the late evenings trying to slow down my racing and flighty thoughts. I can’t seem to concentrate on any one topic but spend the night with random things darting around my mind. Even when I do sleep, my dreams jump about and I wake up frequently, often shaking or panicky. My dreams have been so weird it has been disturbing me. I find myself thinking about them in the day or unable to shake the uneasy feeling that goes with the nastier ones. Occasionally suicidal thoughts pop up and sometimes these thoughts can be so clear and urgent it can be scary, but there are also excitable flighty thoughts – plans about holidays, knitting, work etc, which would suggest a good mood. It feels slightly strange and can be somewhat frustrating when I can’t sleep, but it is preferable to feeling how I did before Christmas. I quite like the flighty-awake feeling and if I didn’t need the sleep I’d happily become nocturnal and make the most of it, but my body is really tired and I don’t want to keep the bloke and the dog up, so instead I lie in bed tossing and turning.

The last couple of days haven’t been so bad on the mood, but I have been struggling with nausea on and off. I’ve not been sick, but on Sunday night I felt awful. Being sick would have probably been a relief. Nausea does tend to calm down the flighty side of things as moving about just makes me feel worse. Not feeling too bad at the moment, but it seems to come and go.

I am hoping the recent instability can be put down to fiddling with the Reboxetine dose and not taking it consistently at the same time, but I’m not so sure. Things were going haywire before I started the dose experiment. I was told to try taking 8mg some days and 6mg on others to see if it helped with the side effects. I tried it for a bit over Christmas but I found it made the side effects worse than normal on the day I took 8mg and I didn’t feel much respite when taking the lower dose. I’ve also been struggling to get up, so was taking it later than normal, which definitely contributes to the insomnia at the other end of the day. I was trying to take a lower dose on those days, but that didn’t seem to help too much. Things are noticeably worse though if I take the full 8mg dose after about 11am. I’ve gone back to the full dose though and am taking it earlier again, so I hope that will help settle things down.

I saw Dr M on Friday. I mentioned all of this to her. The rapid decline in December, the slight improvement over Christmas and the up-and-downy-ness since. She seemed slightly surprised and a little concerned when I indicated how bad I felt in December, but relieved things have improved a bit since. She thinks I’m a lot stronger these days and that I will be able to manage things better even if I do get more depressed. I think she is probably right.

We discussed medication again. She does think something needs to be added to the Reboxetine. If we can boost the effectiveness of the Reboxetine then maybe I could drop the dose and reduce the impact of the side effects. She’s concerned about sleep too and wants something that will help on that front at the same time. Quetiapine was encouraged again, but I’m still not keen on the idea. It didn’t do anything helpful for me before and I doubt it will again now.

The other option was Mirtazapine. I’m not sure about this either, mainly because of the weight gain risk. I’ve lost a lot of weight over the past year and the last thing I want is to put all of that back on. Aside from that it could probably be a good option. It is meant to be sedating and also partly works on Noradrenaline, which should help. It has a longer half-life than Reboxetine, which could also help stabilise things.  I haven’t tried it before so it may be worth a try, especially as it can work when other drugs haven’t, but I’m not sure. I don’t know if it is worth the risk of it not working, although I guess if the side effects are bad I can always discontinue it. I think I’d also be slightly annoyed if it did work because Dr N and I considered it right at the start, but decided against it because of the weight gain risk. Imagine if it is the right drug and we’d chosen it right back then – maybe none of the past 2 years would have happened. Glorious hindsight. I am not sure though and the bloke is definitely not keen on the idea. He thinks I should just try and manage as I am and do what I can to boost the Reboxetine over the winter. Maybe he is right, but then again I don’t want to experience a sudden drop again like in December as if that happens maybe I won’t be able to manage.

I didn’t want to rush into any sudden decision with Dr M anyway, so she said she’d write to Dr N, tell him what she suggests and leave it up to us to make the decision. He can prescribe it if I decide to give it a try. I need to book an appointment to see him and see what he thinks. I think he would be pretty keen to get me off the Reboxetine if we found an alternative that didn’t send me mad, but it’s a risk and I don’t know if it may be better to wait and see.

Friday was also a year since I tried to freeze myself to death whilst overdosing (it sounds ludicrous to me now) landing myself in hospital for 5 weeks. It was weird to see Dr M almost a year on from when we first met and I mentioned this to her. We both commented on how much better things are now. Quite a lot has changed since then and I do wonder if her initial impression of me has changed. I realise now that I was delusional and paranoid at the time we met, as well as being suicidally depressed, but it still upsets me that my behaviour was put down to a disordered personality and not simply the fact I was somewhat mood-disordered and dealing with the after effects of an overdose. I was definitely not myself and I don’t know how anyone could take that first meeting as representative of my usual personality. I am still frustrated by the whole thing and find myself pondering over it again and again. I wonder if now is the time to challenge the whole diagnosis malarkey and find out what she thinks now she has had much longer to get to know me. I wanted to bring it up and I keep considering it, but I’m just too scared. I am terrified of being told they still feel I have a PD. At least before there was always that bit of doubt and a hope they would realise they were wrong. If I bring it up then I may have to face the fact that diagnosis is going to follow me around.

I’m not sure if I ever wrote about this before, but one of the main reasons I want to challenge the diagnosis again has come from the appointment I had with the locum GP a few months ago. When I was there, he looked back through my notes to find something. We were both watching the screen and as he scrolled through I could see that “Personality Disorder – NOS” was filled in the diagnosis box, visible in big bold letters. On some of the entries it didn’t even list “Recurrent Depressive Disorder”, which is meant to be my main diagnosis. In fact it is meant to be my only diagnosis, because I had been told that they wouldn’t give a proper diagnosis of a Personality Disorder unless the psychologist from psychotherapy (when I eventually start it) thinks I warrant it. I had assumed all mention of the dreaded diagnosis would be dropped until then. Apparently not.

So yes, this has concerned me and since then I have toyed with the idea of applying for my notes. I want to see what has been written about me, especially about diagnosis. I have been somewhat paranoid since. I worry about being seen as just another PD and that any physical problems are seen in this light. I worry that Dr N thinks I’m making things up. It has definitely damaged my relationship with Dr N, as I worry that he just sees me through PD disordered lenses and I don’t feel I can trust him as much anymore since finding out he has been using the PD as my diagnosis. I have found it a lot harder to talk to him since then. I have thought about bringing it up since that appointment, but the time passed and I think I missed my chance.

Another opportunity to bring it up may come up soon though. On Saturday I finally got my new assessment appointment date for psychotherapy. It has been nearly 18 months since I was referred. I have an assessment tomorrow with a clinical psychologist, HP. I hope it is less pointless than the last one, but I have no idea what I can say to her. I am worried about bringing up the diagnosis thing. I may just see if it happens. I don’t know what we are going to talk about though. I have no idea what may help or what I need to discuss. In general things are okay and the things that were identified long ago are no longer relevant. It is the more physical sides of depression that get me most these days. I’ve waited so long that I have to see what they can offer though. Maybe it will help in the long term. It may at least help to have somewhere to discuss how I’m feeling about work as I’m trying to get back. I’ve felt a bit on my own in that regard. Fingers crossed it goes okay anyway.

The other thing that Dr M brought up at the end of our appointment, was this blog. She asked if I was still writing. I admitted that I was, although a lot less often than I used to. I said that I keep wanting to write, but don’t often find the time. I go through fits and starts. She seemed to find my response interesting and seemed intrigued. I wondered if she would get curious and want to look at the blog since. I suspect she may have, as someone in the area visited the blog the day after my appointment. I don’t know whereabouts she lives in the area and I guess it could be anyone, but somehow I got a feeling it was her. I’d like to know if she has read it or not though.

So yeah, that was that. I have a lot half-written about work and more to say, but I will leave that for another post. No idea when I will write it though.

Tummy Troubles…

with 14 comments

I am still struggling with the tummy troubles. I have been taking the higher dose (120mg TDS) of Alverine Citrate for a few weeks now and I do think it has helped a little, despite the fact I have also increased the Reboxetine to 8mg in that time. I was getting less cramps at least, although I was still having problems with diarrhoea or constipation all the time. My appetite had improved a little, which must suggest things have been a little better.

Unfortunately that slight improvement has been completely negated by the events of last night. A warning – this post definitely scores high on a rating of too much information!

I had been feeling fine and had enjoyed my dinner of roasted ham, mash, kale and carrots. As I was getting ready for bed and just settling down to watch Newsnight, I got a sudden shooting pain in my tummy and next thing I knew I’d had a somewhat messy accident. :S :( I was so shocked and upset, it took me a second to act and jump into the bathroom (which is within a metre of the bed), although by this point it was far too late anyway. The bloke was horrified and just shouted at me, called me disgusting and hid in the back bedroom, whilst I stripped the bed and took a shower. :( I was feeling pretty rough by this point and thought I might be sick as well, but managed to keep that end under control! The bloke eventually realised I wasn’t very well and that he was being unreasonable and he apologised and started to make the bed. I didn’t know what to do with myself. He wasn’t going to let me in the bed after that, so suggested I got the air-bed out! At least that is plastic and cleanable in case of further episodes. I didn’t expect to sleep much anyway, so decided to do this and settled down under the spare duvet on the lounge floor.

I was awake most of the night and felt pretty rough, but managed to survive without any further accidents. I’m still feeling pretty dodgy now, although by now I could just be hungry. I am too scared to eat anything though.

I don’t really know how to say this, but the poo didn’t look good at all. Very dark brown, sticky, runny and lumpy including some undigested carrots. Not nice at all. The fact it happened so suddenly suggests things aren’t very happy in there either. If I could have done anything about it, I would have. There was no warning at all, except for the shooting pain that came with the attack. It literally came out and exploded like the lid off a pop bottle that had been shaken up. bleugh. Sorry. You don’t need to know that.

The bloke wanted me to book an appointment with Dr N, so I am seeing him this afternoon. I am not sure what he can say or do. I have no idea how I am going to tell him without dying of shame. Part of the reason I am writing this, is to practice describing what happened! I am far too British and shy to talk about poo. Even with a doctor. It has been hard enough to tell him of my tummy troubles so far, but this is an extra level of embarrassment.

I wasn’t sure about writing about this here as it is so embarrassing, but it is the latest thing to happen in the whole tummy troubles saga and something so horrible seemed worthy of note. After all, this blog is an account of some of the more grim elements of mental health. Coping with the side effects of medication is a big part of dealing with mental illness, so I may as well be honest about it.

My bloke was very shocked and not very impressed. He wants me to stop taking the Reboxetine if that is what is causing this. He said he doesn’t like living with an 80 year old. I agree. I don’t enjoy feeling like one.

I had been struggling with the increase in dose aside from this. My sleep has deteriorated and I only find I can sleep properly when the dose wears off in the morning, when I should really be getting up and taking the next dose. It takes ages to get to sleep, I am waking up all the time and struggling to get back off to sleep and I am having nightmares and feeling restless. It is exhausting. I was getting palpitations at night too, immediately after the increase, although that seems to have settled down a little after a couple of weeks at the higher dose. I felt really low in the first week or so too, but that also seems to have improved over the last couple of days, so maybe it is starting to have a more positive effect now. That said, I feel crappy today after the night I’ve had!

I am too scared to stop the Reboxetine though. I don’t want to go back to how I was before. I don’t want to end up really depressed and suicidal again. The perpetual low mood and vague depression of late is draining enough, but that constant despairing depression is much, much worse. I don’t know what alternatives there are. Maybe I should just go med-free and sod all the drugs and their stupid side effects. I still wonder if my mood would have resolved itself a lot faster if I hadn’t have started taking bloody medication. Then again, it may have killed me first.

In good news. I got my driving license back!

I now have a 1 year license, so I need to stay sane over the next year or I will lose it again. Apparently, I will get a form 3 months before it expires to request a renewal. They will go through the medical enquiries again and decide if to reissue. No doubt it will take 5 months again to do that, so I will not be able to drive again for a wee while, but I guess we will see how it goes next time. If I get worse or am told by my doctors to stop driving for whatever reason, I have to let them know and presumably I will have to wait months for them to decide again, so I hope that doesn’t happen.

It is great to have my car back. I am looking forward to going places and having my independence again. I think it will make a big difference in helping my recovery. Being able to go where I want and not having to rely on public transport or lifts from the other half is going to be a massive help. I have a lot more choice about what I do with myself and will be tempted to go out more.

I had a drive on Saturday afternoon after I’d insured and taxed it and it didn’t feel too strange to be back at the wheel. The bloke went with me and we made it in one piece. My left arm has remembered where all the gears are and it felt pretty natural, so I am glad I hadn’t forgotten it all.

On Saturday night we went out in my car and got pulled over by the police! I wasn’t driving, the bloke was. It had flashed up on the policeman’s dash that the car was uninsured – obviously the database hadn’t been updated since I had only insured it that morning. I am glad I wasn’t driving or I’d have panicked. I would say I’d have shat myself, (I think I did on Saturday night!), but I’m not sure that’s appropriate now! *blush* At least we can say the police are on the ball! We were off to a beer festival and although my bloke was only going to have a pint as designated driver, we decided not to take the risk of being pulled over again later, so we left the car and got a taxi back. We went back to get it on Sunday morning and I took my first solo drive, driving my car back. I was okay, although I had forgotten which lanes I needed to be in a couple of times, so I made life harder for myself.

Anyway, I need to get ready for my doctors appointment. I haven’t got dressed yet and am just lying on the sofa with a blanket. Walking around makes me feel worse, so the temptation is to lie here all day. I have a meeting to go to this evening though, so will have to get up eventually.

Edit (3pm): Appointment with Dr N was very embarrassing and not too much help. I had been taking senna daily, plus the occasional dose of lactulose to counteract the constipation I was struggling with, but he thinks that won’t help on the maintaining control front, so I should stop that for now. If I don’t take it, I usually end up in pain and bloated from the constipation within a day. He has given me a script for something else to take if that happens, so we shall see how we go.

We talked about coming off the Reboxetine, but he didn’t think that was worth the risk at all. We don’t know if my mood picked up spontaneously or if the Reboxetine helped, but either way, my mood is a lot better and it doesn’t seem wise to mess around with it. I may have to drop the dose to 6mg if the problems persist, but I was struggling enough on that dose, so don’t suppose it makes much difference.

We talked about sleep and he asked if I wanted to try more sedatives, but neither of us really saw the point as they don’t seem to help all that much. He made the suggestion that actually getting back to work and having more brain stimulus may help, which in theory is true, but I never slept that great when I was at work. Even when I have been busy lately, it hasn’t made any difference, so I’m really not convinced by this. If anything if my brain is busy during the day, I really struggle to slow it down at night, especially if I get anxious too.

Mentioning work, I told him about seeing Dr Occy Health again on Thursday. He thinks I should push to agree a planned return to work as having a structure and plan may help give me something to aim for. I think he is right, although I am wary of the risk of too much, too fast. I told him about going in a couple of times and he agreed that was promising, although I also said that my work are very hesitant to let me rush back. They are being very cautious about how much I can do and when I can do it. I actually got told off for doing work-related activities whilst I was there the other day. We will see though.

8mg…

with 8 comments

I saw Dr M this morning. I’d not seen her for ages. It was back in July, just before I went to Europe (I haven’t written about my trip, but anyone following my twitter feed will know that I spent 2 and a half weeks InterRailing during July/August), so a lot has happened since then. She suggested that it was a good sign I hadn’t needed to see her sooner, but I indicated that it wasn’t especially. It probably would have been if I hadn’t have wanted to see her about a month ago. I couldn’t get an appointment then. This was the first Monday we could both do.

She asked about my trip. She was impressed and relieved that I managed on my own whilst I was away. It feels so long ago now, I didn’t really know what to say, other than that I coped, enjoyed most of it, but found it really exhausting.  I could have told her more, but didn’t see the point. There was limited time and plenty of other things to cover.

We talked about things with the bloke. Before I went away, things between us had been somewhat up in the air. When I last saw Dr M, there was a very real chance that we would split up. I haven’t written about this here before now, because I don’t think the bloke would be overly comfortable about me sharing this with the world.

The whole idea of the trip to Europe, was to give us some time apart to reassess things. I was going to just take a “boring” holiday somewhere, but options are limited for solo travellers and I’d always wanted to go InterRailing, so I decided to give it a go. It also seemed like a great chance to test myself to see if I could be more independent and to cope on my own.

I’d talked about all of this at my last appointment and Dr M was keen to know what has happened since then. Things between us have settled down and pretty much gone back to how they were before things became difficult. It’s almost as if nothing had happened. Neither me, nor Dr M could decide if this was a good thing or not. On the whole, it is probably good. Things were not good at all when I left and it is nice to know that he missed me a lot, but it has also been a little disappointing. When I got back, we talked a bit about what had happened and how we should try to improve things and appreciate each other more. Unfortunately, it doesn’t feel like anything has changed or improved.

We talked about my trip to Occy Health. I explained what he said about not starting a proper scheduled return yet, but how we tried to think about the ways we can solve some of the problems that are stopping me from getting back to work. I told her that he’d said I could try to visit the office and that I managed to go to a meeting last week for a couple of hours, which she was impressed by. It was a really big step, so that’s good. However, she seemed disappointed that there was nothing further planned yet. I suggested that I will probably try to go in again in the next week or so, but I hadn’t decided when yet. She wanted me to try to commit to a time and hoped that I could start to go in on a more regular basis, even if it is only once a week for a few weeks. She thinks that a routine and commitment to going to work on a specific day, would help me prepare for it better. I said that is actually what I’d hoped for, but that Dr Occy Health wasn’t sure and she seemed to accept this, but she thought it would probably be okay if I chose to do it, rather than having my work-place imposing it on me. She may be right and I was considering this myself. I will try and decide when would be best.

We did talk about my mood and how it has recently dropped quite a bit. I don’t think she was too concerned or especially surprised, although she was possibly a little disappointed. She asked about the usual stuff . Sleep, suicide, anxiety… She was not surprised to hear of my nightmares or generally rubbish sleep (occasionally too much or usually too little and never feeling rested). I had to admit that suicidal thoughts had returned, although they were a lot less frequent and different to how they were a year ago. She hadn’t actually realised that the thoughts had pretty much gone away over the summer, which was a surprise. I’m sure I’d told her last time that I wasn’t really suicidal any more and that I no longer felt that life was completely hopeless. Although I can feel pretty awful at the moment, I have got my hope back that I can be well again. A year ago, I could never imagine a life without feeling horrifically depressed, so it was no wonder I could see no future and wanted to end it. I do get frustrated at the fact that I have got worse again. I wonder if I will always be waiting for the next relapse and if so, is it worth it? I am able to cope with these thoughts at the moment, as I still have some hope of a recovery.

We talked about the risk that I may do something impulsive if I have a particularly bad day. I told her there was no immediate risk of me killing myself and that I have no intention to make any detailed long-term suicide plans like I have in the past, but that I couldn’t guarantee that I wouldn’t just do something on impulse. I don’t tend to be impulsive and have never made the decision that way in the past, but if an opportunity presented itself, there are times when I can be very tempted to take it. She recognised this and I guess she knows that there is always a greater risk of completed suicide when people are either recovering or deteriorating. When you are really, seriously depressed, it is far too much effort to kill yourself, but when you’re having a bad day after a series of not-so-bad days it can seem a lot worse and you are also more likely to have the energy and drive to do something about it.

I mentioned that I felt that the arrival of autumn did not seem to be helping and she agreed that there was probably a seasonal element. She had noticed back in the spring that things seemed to improve a lot faster for me when the weather picked up in April, so it is natural, I guess, that things would get worse again when the summer ended.

We talked about my medication and she agreed that it probably needs a tweak, if only to help me get through winter. Her first instinct was to add Quetiapine. Apparently, it was licensed the other day in the EU as an augmentation treatment for Major Depressive Disorder, although she admitted that most psychiatrists had been using that way for a while anyway. She asked if I’d been on it before and I confirmed that I had. I was taking it along with Venlafaxine, back in February 2009 when I overdosed on it. She asked what doses I’d been on and I said I couldn’t remember but I did get right up to 550mg. She said that for MDD they use a max dose of 300mg, but I had been on that sort of a dose for a while too, so I’m not sure it would help. I also mentioned that it never seemed to help with insomnia and that I had put on weight last time. She said she didn’t expect it to help the insomnia and she seemed genuinely surprised about the weight. Although it didn’t help me with insomnia, I know plenty of people who find it knocks them out, so that seems a little strange. There are also plenty of people that have found it made them put on weight too, so I am not alone. Both drowsiness and weight gain are listed in the common side effects, so you would have thought she was aware of that. Anyway, I said no to Quetiapine.

The other options were to do nothing, increase the Reboxetine, swap the Reboxetine or try to add something else. I wasn’t sure doing nothing was a good idea and we both agreed that stopping the Reboxetine was a really stupid idea, as it is the first AD that has ever helped me. Reboxetine has shown that Noradrenaline is probably the key to my wonky brain chemicals and there aren’t many others that help on that front, so we’re not sure what else to do. She didn’t have any bright ideas of anything else to try really. If not quetiapine, then she said we’d probably be looking at augmenting with Lithium or another anti-depressant, but she wasn’t sure what would be best. She said she would have a look for some ideas though before I next see her and she was welcome to any suggestions I may have – so if anyone has any ideas, let me know. I’ve been on most of the common combinations already and my only real thought is perhaps bupropion, but it’s not licensed as an AD here (although it is used an awful lot in the US), so I don’t know if she’d give it a go. I know a couple of people who have found it helpful though, so it may be worth a try.

In the end, we decided that increasing the Reboxetine was probably the best option for now, although I am worried about how I will be with the side-effects. It is worth a go though and if it is too much then we will have to try something else. I hope it helps, without making me feel too awful. She said she’d get a letter sent to Dr N. I have plenty left at the moment anyway, so will just increase the dose myself for now. It only comes in 4mg tablets anyway, so it makes little difference. So yes. I am now going to be taking 8mg of Reboxetine. I didn’t actually tell her that I’ve occasionally taken 8mg anyway, when I’ve not been able to cut one of the tablets in half to make the 6mg. One day doesn’t make much difference though, but 8mg over a week probably will. We will see anyway.

After that, I remembered that I had also been for the therapy assessment. I told her what had happened and that I will probably be waiting for someone to come back from maternity leave. She named the person she thought it would be. We shall see what happens anyway. She isn’t impressed that I’ve been waiting over a year and was shaking her head saying “it’s probably only going to get worse, only going to get worse…” as she looked at her diary to book our next appointment. It really isn’t good.

Anyway, time was up then and I had to go. I see her again in 6 weeks, so we shall see how we go with the Reboxetine.

Written by intothesystem

Monday, 11th October 2010 at 2:08 pm

Good days, Bad days…

with 12 comments

I’ve had a lot of good days lately. My mood has picked up sufficiently that I am feeling almost “normal” at times now and certainly manageable at others. I have actually felt happiness or contentedness, something I wasn’t really sure was possible any more. My concentration has been improving and my confidence is growing.

I have started to contemplate the idea that I may finally be heading towards some form of recovery. Maybe, just maybe, we have found the drug that works, despite the problematic side effects.

I have been foolish though in thinking the bad days had passed. I had hoped that I wouldn’t feel that bad again, at least any time soon. I really didn’t feel good yesterday. I woke up feeling low and felt worse as the morning went on. For the first time in a while I felt seriously suicidal, as opposed to the passing thoughts that had been floating around, but which I could brush off relatively easily. I was having to really fight the urge to just thrown in the towel. I felt anxious and uneasy. I’ve been struggling with strange dreams and nightmares lately and they were bothering me. Everything just felt wrong somehow. I wanted to crawl back in to bed and hide there. It felt like nothing had changed. I thought I was past all that, but I was wrong.

Things did start to improve again yesterday evening, but I am feeling a little shaky still. I feel like I’ve been knocked off balance and I’m struggling to right myself.

I am trying to tell myself that this is normal, recovery isn’t a smooth process and bad days are to be expected, but it doesn’t ease the disappointment. Telling myself this didn’t make yesterday any easier.

I hope that things will pick up again, but I am worried that this will set me back. One of the things I struggle most with is the idea that I will never be completely well again and there is always a fear of relapse. A bad day is like a mini relapse and it makes me question if it is all worth it. What is the point in carrying on, if in 6 months, a year, 20 years I end up severely depressed again and try to kill myself? My thinking may be screwed up, but I just wonder if I may as well get it over with.

I had been thinking about going back to work. I do miss it and I’ve been missing it even more when I’ve felt okay. I wonder why I am not there. I know I have only just seen Occy Health and I agree that I’m probably not ready to go back just yet, but I was starting to think that I will be able to do it. Even 3 or 4 weeks ago when I was there, I doubted it would ever be possible. A run of good days has made me think it is, but this bad one has put the doubt back. I worry that it would only take a couple of bad days at work and I would be back where I was before.

I’m still really struggling with the future. I panic when I think about what lies ahead. I am scared of therapy. I am scared of going back to work. I am scared that I will relapse. I am scared of commitment in all shapes and forms. I am scared of getting married. I am scared of buying a house. I am scared of getting old.

I am frustrated, because I was meant to be seeing Dr M on Thursday and I got a phone call today to say she has cancelled. I am disappointed, as after yesterday I felt I could really do with seeing her again soon. I wanted to discuss the Reboxetine. I think it is time to increase it to the “therapeutic dose” (4mg b.d.). I hope that those extra 2mgs will be enough to stave off the bad days. I just hope it isn’t enough to tip the side effects into not-worth-it territory. She was also going to discuss what we can do to ease the side effects, particularly looking at sleep again – the insomnia is the biggest problem. I quite wanted to know what ideas she had come up with since I’d last seen her.

I now have to wait another 2 weeks. It is going to end up being 6 weeks between appointments by the time I eventually see her and we were aiming for every 2-3 weeks, so that’s not so good. It may still be better than the CMHT, but I could have done with seeing her sooner.

I guess I will just have to manage how I am. We will see what happens. I’d like some more good days.

Am I Being Fair…?

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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.