don't give up

I've been back to my therapist (and my blog!) after a break and boy did I need it. In the past four weeks I went through the process of changing meds, being alone, not thinking at all straight. There was a lot of cutting going on and it was all getting a bit nasty.

About five minutes after we had started I got that feeling again - when talking about the embarrasment I feel when I am in situations with my parents whice are a bit private. By this I mean if i stay over and get up in the morning still in my pajamas. We spoke about this and the feeling came really stongly. A physical sickness, a tight chest, a funny feeling on my skin - particularly the backs of my upper arms. But during this my mind is always blank, can't think of anything apart from how I feel.

I've been seeing this therapist for nine months now. Given that I keep having this experience she has suggested that I investigate another treatment alongside my therapy with her. She says that there seems to be something that is clearly being remembered by my body but not my brain, and we don't seem to be able to get it out. She has reccomended I see an energy therapy practicioner. This basically works on tapping into the energy channels to deal with the imbalance that has been created by a traumatic event.

Or, as Dr Mollon (the person she is likely to refer me to) says, "combines psychoanalytic understanding with the rapid, gentle and deep methods of energy therapy." I've researched and it seems to make sense so let's see where we go.

My concern is what is this trauma that is trapped in my body that is clearly having sauch an effect on me? My therapist could see I was a bit scared and she assured me that it doesn't necassarily need to be something major - its how I perceived it at the time that is important. But what if something horrible did happen - do I want to know? If I never know can I ever properly deal with it?

Thanks for all your interesting comments guys. I think you've all hit the nail on the head in your own ways and it seems I should be blogging for me, Me and ME! Although its always nice to think you are offering others something to pass the time!

I think I'm going to come back to my blog. I'm glad its anonoymous because I think one of my propblems is that the things that I don't talk to people about, and hence I want to write here, are a little, shall we say, 'controversial'. People's views of those with depression are quite markedly divided: Either you should get over it and stop being down, or, you are recognised as someone who has no control over it and generally get support from people. Interestingly my parents make sure both of these are covered off.....

Back soon!

I haven't blogged for a while. Why? Because I don't feel I've anything to give. Who cares what I've done today, where I've been this week, what I think about the current news agenda?

What do you want to know? What do you want to read about? I like the escape. I like the idea that you don't really know me, that I can say what I want and not worry. But I have nothing interesting to say, and hence the bogosphere (?) becomes crowded with lots of insignificant crap.

I've had a hard time of late. Changes in medication, problems with controling muyself, work stress, late nights, unrewarded weekend work, friends with issues I've tried so hard to support on. But here I don't want sympathy or support, I want intelligent debate, creative input, views that challenge my beliefs. But then, if I feel I've nothing to give - how can I get anything back?

I say it again - why blog?

At present, I believe these are both true.

The only antidote to mental suffering is physical pain.

-Karl Marx

Skin is beautiful, don't ruin it with scars just because your life isn't as beautiful. For once life becomes beautiful to you again, your skin wont be so beautiful anymore.

-Meg

So 2007 has begun even worse than 2006 ended.

Today I:
- discovered I actually have £60 to last until the 28th
- got soaked
- took on a whole load more stressful crisis comms work
and
- spent an hour sitting on the floor of my office trying to sort out my little paniking alcoholic friend

The latter being the most disturbing. What I haven't blogged is that after he was signed off work sick after the first fit he cut me out, apart from when he was slaughtered in the early hours of the morening when he called me up to offer some friendly abuse. One day he appeared back at work drinks, downed a couple of bottles of wine, flirted disgustingly with a girl who was clearly winding him up, left with her then called me ten minutes later to tell me he wanted me and was coming round to my house. When I said no the most obscene launguage came out of his mouth as to my motives for 'getting involved with his life'.....

The next day does he remember anything - no! So I tell him and get appologies and we make up and I miss him. Then over Christmas he comes along to a friends' party and causes a scene by being too drunk . Then (I find out today) has a panic attack at a party on nye leaves and calls me 15 (yes) times after going home to drink.

then today one of his colleagues pulls me out of a meeting to come look after him and I do and he stinks of alchohol (at ten thirty in the morning)and I call his parents to let them know he's back in hospital again. But now he is out and won't talk to me again.

what a rant and I feel so depressed and frankly I can't be bothered with any of this shit and I know that debating taking an overdose will pass and that it always does and that's what I'm trying to tell myself as I sit here and churn out all these useless words that don't mean anything but I know they are a distraction and I don't want anyone to read this because I sound like one of those self important silly young women who think they've got it so bad and I really should be puntuating some of this but I don't care and what's wrong with my life and yes thanks I'm intelligent and attractive and sociable and whatever I love the attention and I love chatting and laughing and talking but i hate everything else. and i know part of this is after christmas come down and that coke and prozac don't mix but, really, what is the point?

Right, I've officially jumped on the bandwagon for claiming back 'illegal' bank charges. Something I've been putting off for months as I can't bear to look at my finances - you think I would have learned a lesson by being £14,000 in debt two years ago - but oh no its still too painfull.

So I calcualte those evil bastards at HSBC have taken 500 quid in unauthorised overdraft fees in the last six months (they won't give me an overdraft because of my poor credit rating. How on earth they think I can afford around £100 a month in charges I have no idea!). I've found a helpful letter template online and just drafted a letter which I will endevour to post tomorrow, and maybe cc some personal finance journalists into......

Nationwide 'owe' me a further £200 and have already issued a debt collection notice. This started months ago  when they told me I had no outstanding payments pending on the account. I withdrew all my money and opened another account (they wouldn't give me a debit card - meaning I could only pay cash and had to visit cash machines). The payment they 'didn't notice' then went out, taking me overdrawn, and I refuse to pay charges. To top it off they won't enter into dialogue on the matter as they have my old address - which I can't change without writing to them. Interestingly my letter got lost in the post. Hmmmmm.

So begins the struggle. And another 26 days till payday and about 100 quid to last.

F**king joke.
Happy new year by the way.

because people you love don't love you

because innocent people die every day

because those who work so hard get such little recognition

because people waste their intelligence on cruel intentions

I wonder sometimes is this a world I truely want to live in. So much pain, so much grief, so much hard work. What am i doing here?

I've just spent an hour looking at the relationships between alcohol dependency and seizures.
All my worrying came to a head on Wednesday when I arrived back to my office to find an ambulance outside and him being wheeled out in mask and attached to wires.
On the outside people knew that we had been dating and were still friends, but few know how close we still are, and that he'd stayed at mine the night before. So it must have looked odd that I declared (on his approval) "I'm going to the hospital with him."

I have truly never ever been so worried about anyone in my life.

I helped him get changed into the hospital robes because he was too weak to move. I stroked his head for the hour or so until his memory came back. I answered the questions the doctor asked about his medical history. I phoned his brother. And then I was amazed when the doctor did not ask a 27 year old man who arrives in hospital after having a fit for the first time how much alcohol he drinks.

So I say to the doctor outside "You might want to ask him how much he drinks". The doctor looks at me quizzically and I wonder weather I've overstepped the mark - I mean I know my first aid at work qualification hardly compares to her seven years medical training.

"Does he drink a lot?" she says and then returns to the bed to ask him about his drinking. Well done doctor - "I strongly suggest that you consider seeing someone about your drinking," she says after we have totaled up the units of alcohol that go into his body every day. "This could be related."

Honestly.

So I get him dressed and organise a car on the company to take him back to his parents which is about an hour away. I take him home and he sleeps on my lap during the journey. I explain the day to his, worryingly unconcerned, parents while he has a bath. I give him cuddles and look after him when he sleep walks in the night. I get up at the crack of dawn to get into work on time the next day.

I go for coffee the next day with his manager and we discuss how we can be supportive and help him sort things out (having a boyfriend who had alcohol problems in the past means she's noticed too). I'm due for coffee with his sister to do the same this week.

People say I shouldn't be getting involved and that I do more than I should. What the hell should I do then, please can someone tell me? Just because we don't go out anymore I can not switch off the fact that I care about him so much. I've spent the last four days tearing my hair out (literally) worrying what to do. And the worst thing - he wont talk to me on the phone. He's hiding from the problem because he knows now I am going to say something. Like I did before and he decided that we shouldn't be going out.

I can't deal with his issues as well as mine, but I can't walk away from this. The only thing I can do is try to be strong and focused as I'm no good to him if I'm upset and worried.

 

An incredible journey

 

Today my day was really bad,

I woke up feeling tired and sad,

I persevered like I knew I should,

But now I feel like tired old wood.

 

I messed things up,

Should have stayed in bed,

Embarrassed:

I want to bang my head.

 

The thoughts aren’t good and no one cares

If I cry I just get cold hard stares.

 

The old polar bear struggled on with her young,

Their journey was perilous and not too much fun.

It seems that we all have a struggle to make,

Whether it’s over the ice or in the morning to wake.

 

Today my day was rally bad,

I’m going to bed feeling tired and sad.

Tomorrow I’ll wake up and carry on,

With my thick white fur shining in the sun.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/nature/wildfacts/factfiles/7.shtml

There is a funny feeling inside,
but i can't work out if its shame or pride.
Is there always a pleasure to go with the pain?
I'm thinking too much and its hurting my brain.

To be happy I'm told i must look to myself,
not to young men, or clothing, or wealth.
At the moment there's nothing that makes me sit up,
and sometimes I feel that enough is enough.

So I sit out the bad bits and hope for the good,
trying to deal with things like I should.