ECT came up as a possible road to go down in the future along with a planned admission to go off all my meds and start again. Both are scary options and I don’t know how I feel, other than desperate and at the end of my rope.

Waiting on a second opinion. It has been promised for nearly a year but still no sign of it. Not good enough.

Human being

I am not my diagnosis. I am a person with thoughts and feelings. I am not a label.


I think I’ll start writing again.
Anybody out there?

i cried so much tonight. i cried the tears that have been bottled up for days while i was in that numbed out unreality.

i am beginning to thaw and i do not like it. i am afraid. i am afraid that i cannot control this and that i will be swallowed whole by this grief.

everything is becoming more real, more certain. her body is home. the funeral is on saturday. i have no idea how i am going to get through that. no idea.

her eldest son asked if i would do a reading at the service but there is just no way on earth i would be able to. my brother is going to do it instead. i feel bad but i really can’t do it.
being there at all is going to be so difficult.

i am scared that i am going to crumble. a million little pieces on the floor.
i hated that numbness and the feeling that nothing was real … but i think i want that back now.
this is so much worse. it feels like so much more than i can take.

i am scared.

I am lost and i am broken.

I found out on Tuesday morning that my cousin, who was also
my godmother, died.
She was on holiday alone in Spain and failed to return home on

The details were sketchy at first.
We all jumped to the conclusion that she had committed suicide.

She and I shared similar mental health issues and were close
because of that. She always sent me txt messages checking in
with me.

The past mortum showed that in fact she died of something
called chronic obstructive pulmonary disease. She was not
diagnosed with it. She went in her sleep we think thankfully.

I couldn’t believe it when I heard the news. I still can’t. Nothing
seems real. I don’t feel real.
I feel numb and disconnected most of the time. I feel so weird. I
can’t explain it.

we don’t even know when her body will be released and flown
home. Everything is up in the air.

The phone never seems to stop ringing but there is no news.

I can’tbelieve this is happening. I don’t know who or how or what
I am.

Homebase are involved again. They check on me every day but I
have nothing to say. There is nothing to say.


i am back home again.
things got very bad. i had to go into hospital for a while. there was no choice. i was more suicidal than i have been in a long time.
i didn’t want to go to hospital but i didn’t have much choice.
now that the fog has cleared and i am a little more stable and a bit more like myself i can see it was the right thing to do.

it was hard being in hospital. it always is. it can be a very scary and lonely place.
it wasn’t the hospital i am used to either. it has closed and joined with a different place so there was nothing and no one familiar there.  as hospitals go .. it was ok. most of the staff were nice enough to me. like everything in life some are better than others.

my self harm was out of control, even in the hospital. i burned myself a lot and almost every day that i was there. they threatened to take my lighter and my cigarettes but never actually did. when my therapist found that out after my discharge she was very angry at them for not acting.
my arms got badly infected and i had to take antibiotics and a special nurse from the general hospital had to come advise the staff what kind of dressings and treatment to use on my arms.
i felt so ashamed and angry at myself but even with both arms bandaged from wrist to elbow and staff having to change and treat them daily i couldnt stop myself. i was out of control.

things eventually calmed down a little. my head stopped racing so much and the constant noise and urges got a little quieter and slower.
i think the med changes have helped me get back in control. while i was in hospital they doubled my thorazine and my seroquel and added in prozac.
i think that the changes and the time out somewhere where i could not act on my suicidal urges helped.

i’m still not feeling very well but i no longer feel like i am an imminent threat to myself. i am calmer and more in control.

it has been a really rough time for me lately.
i can only hope that things move in the right direction now.
i don’t want to end up back in that place any time soon.

long time no post.

i had my gallbladder removed on the 13th. they were able to do it by keyhole thankfully. there was still a lot of pain involved.

i only had to stay overnight. even though it was keyhole it still takes a lot out of you physically. i’m only now becoming pain free.


unfortunately i’m also becoming extremely ill … the mental kind this time. the down that has been going on for a month or more has reached a head. i’ve crashed completely. utterly self destructive and suicidal.

i had therapy on monday. i tried to explain how i have been feeling. she made me go to the hospital to see the dr on call.

he really wanted to admit me. i had to make all sorts of promises i don’t really know i can keep in order to stay out.

i’ve been put on the homebase / crisis team. homebase is where special nurses phone to check on you and call to your house every day. it is basically one step out of hospital.

one came today. he has been here before. he talked for an hour or more and then phoned this evening to check on me. he is a nice man but i don’t know what anyone can really say or do to help.

i really don’t want to go to hospital again but i think that that is where this is going to end up.

that or the grave yard.

my head is such a mess. i don’t know what i want or what to do. i can’t cope

i am currently recovering from the surgery i had on tuesday morning to have my gallbladder removed.
the surgery went as well as can be expected. thankfully they were able to do it by key hole, so i don’t have the huge wound my mother had and hopefully i will recover faster.
i’m already getting fed up not being able to do very much. i am not a good patient. i think i pushed myself too much yesterday and as a result i spent the whole night being ill and being in utter agony.
it will take time for me to get back to myself i guess.
the pain is really bad at times. i’m on 3 strong painkillers. thankfully they knock me out some of the time but not always.

mentally things have been very bad too. i saw my psychiatrist the day before my operation and she was very concerned. she made me promise not to do anything silly at the hospital. …. she had spent a long time on the phone the week before assuring them that i would be fine and i guess i was sounding very ‘not fine’ to her then.
but i was too out of it and in pain to do anything in the hospital anyway.
i am home now and the thoughts are as loud as ever. my psychiatrist increase my seroquel and will check back in with me to see if that makes any difference.
i’m not feeling very hopeful about it, or about anything at the moment.


i’m sorry i haven’t been around.

i have hit rock bottom … or at least i think i have. every day i think it cannot get any worse and yet … and yet somehow it does.

i am not coping well. my dbt skills are not helping me at all and i’m at the point where i’m so far down that it is hard to even make myself try to help myself.

i just feel like giving up.

it always comes back to this. all these years and i’ve never escaped it for very long.

the darkness. the hopelessness. the utter desperation. it just keeps coming.

i’m trying to hang on but i don’t know for what or for how long i can keep going like this.

i feel powerless. i feel that i have been swallowed whole by something terrible.

i am alone. i am afraid.

i’m falling fast and falling hard.

i’m losing control again and it worries me. well … it worries some part of me. some part of me cares. some part of me doesn’t. some part of me wants to give up completely, while another part tries hard to cling on and do the right things.

my diary card tells the sorry tale in its tiny boxes. i’ve given in to every urge i’m meant to fight. i’m swallowing xanax like they are going out of fashion. i’ve been badly cutting and burning myself every day. i even drank a bottle of vodka the other night.
that one bothers me the most if i’m being honest. i don’t want to go back there. i don’t want to start drinking again. i don’t want to turn into my mother again.

none of it helps. these fucked up coping methods … they aren’t even helping me cope. they are perhaps keeping me from doing something worse, but i don’t even know about that any more.

i am scared of how far and how fast i have fallen. i don’t want to be back here. i don’t know what to do.

i don’t know why this has happened. my therapist always thinks there has to be a reason. the last day i saw her we traced some of it back to something that triggered me. maybe that is part of the reason but it isn’t the whole story. i just always end up like this. any up time must be paid for. right now i’m really really paying.

this doesn’t feel like something dbt skills can work for. it is more than that.

i think this is just how it goes with me. always a crash.

i couldn’t drag myself out of bed until well past lunch today. i was awake. i had been awake all night. awake and crying as silently as i could. i couldn’t get up today and face people. i don’t have the energy to put on a front and i can’t let them know how bad i am again.

it kills me when they know i’m not ok. i don’t want them to know anything.