Breaking Through A Breakdown.

*Self-harm / suicide*

 

Right. I feel about ready to start talking about the last week…. I had a breakdown last Friday. It’s related to things I’ve written about recently. I don’t fancy going back over it all. Let’s just say I gave the Wellbeing Centre something to read, and wasn’t given the opportunity to say necessary things as I did so. I didn’t get to explain that I was not requesting what I had originally asked for from them. Nothing needed saying or doing. Only acknowledgement it had been read if anything. I didn’t get to say I didn’t blame ‘X’ for any of it and I didn’t want him to blame himself. I didn’t get to say I had blocked emails from ‘Z’ because I was so triggered by her response. I didn’t get to say the most important bit … that I needed to feel I was in control of what happened next. I needed to be the one to decide if I continued at the group and the Centre. If that choice was taken from me and made for me, it would render me powerless. And powerlessness, alongside humiliation, is one of my most massive triggers. Always has been. It would also have shown they weren’t listening to me – as the group is not the problem…. my feelings for X are not the problem…. the problem was the handling of the situation and how it made me feel. If I was told the Centre was no longer the place for me it would be the worst thing in the world.

 

So I was not given the chance to explain what I was handing over to X. I had to just throw it in front of him, sit through the group massively triggered, and then leave, knowing that was it…. after I handed the writing over I wasn’t going to talk anymore, so I didn’t get that closure I needed, and didn’t get to explain anything. It left a whole load of uncertainty because I didn’t know what they’d make of it, and without the explanation I needed to quickly give, it was likely there would be misunderstandings on their side. X said he would read it after the groups and he’d email (text) me later. I wandered around town, considering how to end my life that day. I had my first breakdown of last week when I got home. I think I’ve written about this already.

 

I waited all week, dreading a response yet longing for one too. I thought he had forgotten. Or that he was avoiding dealing with me. I had sent a text on the Wednesday saying:

 

Hi X. If you’ve read what I wrote, then I hope you can understand just how difficult it was for me to ask to have that final conversation at the end. I feared that rejection I got.

I understand you felt you couldn’t and I know you said I could talk to someone else but you guys were the only ones I trusted. I don’t want to talk to anyone else about this anymore. I only needed 5 mins to explain a couple of things associated with what I wrote. After nearly 3 weeks of sheer hell I just needed a minute to feel heard & to relieve the anxiety I felt, all alone for the longest fortnight of my life. It’s all I would’ve needed. Being denied that was like being denied what I asked from Z… it replicated the very thing I needed to tell you about. Z made me feel worthless… like a number… a burden. Yesterday confirmed that for me. And again I’m sorry I took up so much of your time and made you late that one time. I felt awful about it. Now I pay the price for that.

So yes, I’m extra triggered now and have to get through at least another week of feeling even worse than the last 3… knowing there will be no relief because I’m never opening up again. That was to be the last time. Once I handed the writing over that was it… no more talking. So I had no closure. Everything’s a giant mess. And I don’t know the way out of it anymore.

L

 

I waited for a response. I wasn’t even sure he received that text. I waited and waited, and on Friday at 16:59 I got a reply:

Hi L, I understand it was difficult for you to ask for a conversation with us at the end of the group. I’m sorry you have felt rejected and not heard. As I said to you on Tuesday, we have been late for the second group on more than one occasion and you are not the reason for that so try not to feel responsible.

After reading your letters we appreciate this situation has triggered a lot of distressing feelings for you and we respect and support your decision not to talk to anyone connected to the Wellbeing Centre, about this anymore. It is sad to hear you feel stuck in your head and are feeling this badly about it all. Although we want to support people’s mental health recovery, we are unable to support your recovery in the way you have requested.

I would urge you to seek support from outside our service. Like you have suggested _______ is one possibility but there is also _____ that covers more general matters as well as bereavement. Another option would be to contact your GP and ask to be referred to the CMHT. I believe they may be better suited to support your recovery needs.

Kind regards ‘X’

 

Can you imagine how that would feel? Not only was I being denied the help I needed (even though I wasn’t still asking for it – and he’d have known that if he’d given me a couple of minutes at the end of the group!!), but that last paragraph sounded very much like being abandoned by the whole service. Like being passed on to someone else as they couldn’t cope with me. The last sentence – ‘I believe they may be better suited to support your recovery needs’….. wouldn’t that make you think you’d been ditched? Especially if you were already in a heightened emotional state like I was.

 

The worst part was that I received that perceived total abandonment at one minute to five on a Friday…. and then his phone would’ve gone off and it would be too late to contact anyone else regarding this. That’s what caused my breakdown. I felt entirely rejected and abandoned, and had no options left. The Centre closed at 5pm. I knew I had to cope over the weekend by myself – entirely by myself, because nobody in my family knows about this – I don’t want them to. So it was kind of like ‘It is sad to hear you feel stuck in your head and are feeling this badly about it all… but here you go, have some more to feel bad about, stuck in your head all weekend on your own!’ … it’s what made me feel I couldn’t survive the weekend. I couldn’t even survive that night.

 

I immediately harmed myself, quite badly. But I wasn’t in my body as I did it. I was watching. I was totally numb. I felt nothing. That was really scary, as I could so easily have continued and I’d have felt nothing. I did something that was actually quite risky and I wouldn’t normally have done, but at that point I didn’t care if I lived or died. That’s the truth. I wanted to die, but what I did wasn’t an active bid to do so. It was more an indifference. But mainly I wasn’t in control of myself anyway. So it just was what it was.

 

It didn’t make me feel any better. I texted X back, knowing his phone would be off, so he’d probably never get the texts anyway, as usually if you text while his phone is off he won’t get it when he turns it on next (which wouldn’t be until Tuesday just gone)… in my mind he probably knew that, so that’s why he left it to the last minute, so I wouldn’t respond. That’s my opinion. I said:

Guess that’s that then. Should never have said a word. This is worse than ____ ( – the other place I went to). Sounded from what you said that I’m no longer welcome at the group / centre … I’m sorry for all this. I never wanted any of it. L

And a bit later, added:

And my recovery need was just to know I mattered and wasn’t an awful person. I guess the opposite is true. Human kindness and compassion was all I needed. I didn’t know that was asking too much. I won’t be asking for help elsewhere. This was it. I can’t go through this ever again. I’m done. Thank you for everything. Sorry it had to end this way. L

 

At that moment I wanted to die. I thought I was going to. That was my goodbye. I don’t know if he even got those replies in the end. I regretted sending them once I was out of my ‘dissociation phase’… but part of me hopes he did get them, so he knows the pain I was in.

 

I did many things that night that I regret… some I don’t properly remember. One was potentially dangerous. I sat in the chaos and mess for three hours, afraid to move. Too overwhelmed to begin to clear things up. I didn’t know where to start. It took me that long before I got up, washed my face and cleaned / patched myself up.

 

During those three hours I phoned the Samaritans. Self-harm wasn’t helping. I knew diazepam wouldn’t calm me down either. I was trapped. I knew I had to phone them or I’d end my life one way or another. I spoke to a man there, which concerned me at first, given the topic that had triggered the whole thing, but he was really helpful. Talking to him, and talking to someone online who’s been a rock for me lately, helped me to see things in a different light. It brought the emotions down to a more manageable level. I did end up taking the diazepam after that, as my mind was obsessing over things and I was too emotionally delicate. I needed the noise to stop. All I did was tell my family that I wasn’t okay, but didn’t want to talk about it. It was just so they knew I was fragile.

 

I talked with the Samaritans about how hard it is in that moment to see beyond that moment. The possibility of things feeling better (or different, as he said it might – rather than ‘better’) in the morning or in a few days, was impossible for me to see. In that moment all there was, was that moment. The pain of it. The despair of it. I couldn’t imagine surviving the weekend. I couldn’t see me surviving that night. I can see why people do end up taking their lives… because in that moment there is nothing else – there is no chance for change. There is no feeling better in the morning. They’re caught up in that intense moment and if they don’t reach out and get another perspective, they can’t see beyond it. Had I not reached out to the Samaritans that night I would’ve been consumed by that moment too.

 

But the next morning not only did it feel different… it felt better. I had anger. Anger at X. It’s almost as if getting that text on the Friday evening broke the spell…. if he could do that to me, then maybe he wasn’t as special as I first thought. He kind of fell off the pedestal I’d put him on. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise. That’s not to say it’s a good thing. I won’t ever let them think they did right by me, by pushing me to that point I had to fight for myself. But that’s where I got to the next morning. I found fighting spirit in me. I thought ‘Hell no, I’m not going to let them destroy all the work I’ve done to recover as much as I have’. I wasn’t going to let them dictate my story. I wouldn’t let them win.

 

How it was left, I was unsure if I was even welcome at the group on Tuesday, but rather than avoid it, I decided I would be there, even if I wasn’t meant to. Even if it made X uncomfortable. I would not be forced out, without even being consulted on it. I seriously went there on Tuesday, full of anxiety at the prospect of being turned away and told I wasn’t welcome anymore. Because that’s how the text had made me feel on Friday.

 

But I turned up and everything seemed normal. It was as if nothing had happened at all. I kept quite quiet in the group. And then when it was my chance to talk I mentioned I had a breakdown on the Friday. I didn’t say what had led to it. I didn’t give anything away to anyone, but X would’ve known what I was referring to. It was hard talking about it. It’s not like I took joy in doing it, but I figured I needed to get it out there, to explain how I feel. I talked about how much I learned from the experience. I spoke positively about moving forward, putting all this behind me and starting from here. Anyone who knows me would know it is most definitely not behind me. I just said that to be able to feel more comfortable there and to be a people pleaser. I talked about giving myself the things others won’t give me – so liking myself, valuing myself, being proud of myself etc. – screw those who don’t feel that way, I’ll do it myself. That was a subtle dig obviously… I know that even if I do those things it’s not enough. Only I seem to understand what it was I needed and most importantly WHY. But I’m done explaining it to people now. They clearly don’t want to help me, so I’ll pretend to help myself. My ability to do these things for myself actually hinged on getting that validation from X. But never mind.

 

Now I will do what I said I would in my letter. I’ll pretend I’m better than I am. I’ll go there and act normal, talk about boring stuff, smile, keep people happy. It was nice to be able to go there and act normal. It kind of gave me my power back a little bit. I did what I will always do at the end now. Swiftly got out of there. Won’t be talking to them anymore. Limited interaction. They know everything now. It’s their fault for not listening.

 

I had asked to speak to someone after the group, so I did that, and I talked about the three things that happened, that if done differently would’ve saved me from a breakdown… starting with Z – if she had just been honest to start with and told me what I asked for was not possible, however…. then I would’ve known. The way she dealt with it seemed rushed, like I was being fobbed off and not being listened to… then she was off, and so was the group for a fortnight. So I had two weeks of resentment building, thinking people were ignoring what I was saying. So I wrote what I did…. the second point was that if I had been given two minutes to explain it as I handed it to X, then I would never have received the text on the Friday from him, because he would’ve known I wasn’t making a request, nothing needed doing, he wouldn’t understood the manner and tone of what I wrote, and he’d have known how I’d feel about having the decision made for me that I couldn’t attend anymore. He’d have known I’d be sensitive to that feeling of abandonment and powerlessness. And the third point was that if X hadn’t left it until the final minute of the working week to send that message, then I’d have had options that didn’t include suicide.

 

If he had done it at exactly the same time but on the Thursday, that’d be different. It would’ve allowed me to have my breakdown on the Thursday (which might not have been so bad, as I’d have not felt so trapped without options!), and then on the Friday I could’ve got in touch with someone else from the Wellbeing Centre to confirm the situation, ask if I was even welcome there still, and to talk about it all if necessary. The same could be said if I’d been contacted Friday morning…. I could’ve done something about it. It was the fact I had to wait until at least Monday to do anything at all. That’s what nearly killed me. I hope that’s fed back to him so he understands the impact that would have on someone like me.

 

So I let my feelings be known about the handling of the situation. For once it would be nice to hear ‘We cocked up, we’re sorry…. how can we fix this with you?’ But pigs might fly. Nobody takes responsibility anymore. It’s a shame, as that’s the story of my life, socially too.

 

It turns out I am welcome there… it’s just unfortunate that message didn’t shine through from X last Friday. One thing I talked to this other person about is that the IAPT service left me unhealed, therefore I feared this happening again. And it did. And now they want to leave it unhealed too. So I said I know it WILL happen again, because it’s unhealed and always will be. So I talked about how difficult it is that I’d been denied healing at the last place and now here. I can’t go through it a third time. I won’t survive that. I can barely survive this. I don’t think anyone understands how distressing and intense it is to develop these feelings in this setting. And the handling of it is so important. But because few people talk about these feelings, little is known about it or how to handle it. As I keep finding out. Apparently people aren’t usually as open and honest about it as I’ve been. Trouble is it makes me feel abnormal because they handle it wrong. So I know I must be the only one they’ve faced. I wish they could’ve helped this time. I trusted them to. Now I will leave with open wounds. And will have to avoid mental health services in the future, because I know this will happen again, thanks to the Wellbeing Centre denying me a very simple nod of the head, which could’ve prevented all of this and a future of pain for me. That’s what bugs me. It was so simple. That one little gesture could’ve fixed my whole life. Now it’ll never be fixed.

 

The thing that’s troubled me since discussing this with that other person afterwards, is I was given the sense that it was actually X who didn’t want to help me in the way I’d asked. I’d always assumed it was his supervisor (Z). It’s tough now, thinking he is the one holding me back from my recovery. Changes my view of him. But also throws up lots of questions and theories about why it is. Could it be he’s uncomfortable with his emotions? Could it be he fears me or is disgusted by me, and can’t fathom forcing words out that could heal me, because they’re such lies? Could it be he has some sort of feelings towards me too, and worries that by helping me in the way I’d asked, it would make them stronger? It feels big-headed to suggest that last one, but it’s something I’ve not really considered before. Maybe it’s not as fully one-sided as I’ve always stated. Doesn’t mean he feels the same for me, or that anything could happen. I’m a realist here. But everyone’s human. He could feel something. It may not be about me being a risk to them, but him being a risk to me… It could be to stop him falling for me and risking his own job. That’s what I mean – it’s so open, the possibilities for why it wasn’t granted. It makes my mind go haywire. It could be the one I believe most – that he wants me to suffer… he thinks he knows best and that denying me it, will help me more. In which case f*** him / them. Had that at the IAPT place, them making me push myself instead of helping me how I asked. All it did was damage my trust in them and stopped me asking for help.  Or the other possibility is that he’s just like all the guys I’ve known in my life, and likes the ego-stroke – I had mentioned that being allowed the closure might stop me from longing for someone as long as I usually do in the absence of closure. It might help me move on. Maybe he doesn’t want me to move on. Maybe he wants to know that I still want him and can’t get over him….

 

Do you see how this one little decision to deny me the healing I needed, has thrown every possible explanation into the air and confused the hell out of me? Denying me what I needed to hear drags me in two very different directions – one where he couldn’t confirm the things I needed to believe, because the opposite is actually the truth, and the other one where he can’t confirm them because he has feelings too… him reassuring me of the things I asked for would’ve settled the question for good. It would have firmly told me he feels nothing for me, but he still values me as a person. It’s what I needed. The denial of that tells me he either doesn’t value me as a person or he does feel something, if he can’t say those words on a professional level. If I had been allowed what I asked for, or even a quarter of what I asked for, none of this would’ve happened and everything would be right in the world again. I know it. No matter what anyone says, it would’ve been enough for me.

 

I do honestly believe that everything I needed to hear but was denied, is now untrue. That the opposite is felt instead. I do feel inferior in the group. I feel uncomfortable. At times I felt that X was saying things broadly to the group, but as a means of saying some of the things I’d needed to hear… almost like making up for not doing it….  but I don’t know. It missed the point anyway. I accept my fate now, that I am a number in mental health services, and they don’t care that I feel that way. Because it’s a fact. To them it’s a fact. The person I spoke to at the end also said that he thinks the things I asked for are all true anyway. That didn’t help because did he mean he thinks they’re true from his perspective? Just like Z said things… or did he mean that he thinks X would agree too? That wasn’t clear. And the point is if X doesn’t think those things it doesn’t matter what anyone else tells me. They just don’t get that.

 

I’ve told them I need to turn this around because I won’t seek help elsewhere in the future. It’s fine them saying the CMHT are more suited to my needs, but that would mean I have to find someone I feel this way about in the CMHT and pray to God they will help me in the way these previous two places refused to. I wouldn’t hold my breath. The mental health team would probably reject me anyway. So I’m not being passed on just to avoid them dealing with me. The point is, going to another service to discuss how I feel about X, makes no sense. I know what it is I need. It was very simple to do. They refused to do it. There could have been a way they could’ve done it that would’ve satisfied us both. They just didn’t want to. No amount of talking about him to someone else will deliver what I asked for. And their withholding of what I asked for is cruel. It was very basic, yet left me feeling I was asking too much. That I was too demanding. Imagine what that does to the self-worth…

 

I’m not okay with the Wellbeing Centre. I’m not okay with Z. I’m not okay with X even. Yes I still have feelings for him. But they’re not all love and light now. But I won’t let them / him beat me. I will make them face me every week, reminded of how they let me down… how they destroyed my recovery…. I won’t leave. That would be too easy for them.

 

This will always hurt. I don’t know how I can cope with it to be honest. I feel so angry. I feel frustrated, resentful, paranoid, untrusting, trapped, humiliated, worthless, ignored, silenced and very, very hurt. But my options are to push on through it all, or to die. So I will fight for as long as I can. I won’t be a bother to them. I will be pleasant. I will put on a mask. I may even accidentally make them feel like they’ve helped me, that I’ve turned a corner and feel better…. but they haven’t, I haven’t and I don’t. It’s all a lie. I’m just a stubborn bitch who doesn’t give up. My heart will close now, for good. I will make others feel comfortable. That’s my aim. And I will stuff down everything I feel. If this affects me badly further down the road, so be it… they could’ve prevented it. And they will always know that.

 

 

 

Poem: My Prison Soul.

My Prison Soul

 

 

My Prison Soul

 

I almost tasted freedom from this prison of emotion;
The closeness of you, my key…
You came so close to saving me.
I peered through the lock, awaiting your arrival,
Beholding the light of you,
And a world free from these shackles of darkness.
Your radiance shone through the keyhole,
Straight through to the cold, murky walls of my prison soul;
That ray of hope kept my fighting spirit alive.
I waited for the sound… the turning of that key;
Through the lock I watched a shadowy figure approach –
The silhouette of a woman blocking you from view,
Ushering you away, and there was nothing I could do
But wail after you –
Come back! Don’t leave me in here! I need you! I need your light!”…
Helplessly I watched you fade out of sight;
The woman jangling the bars of my cell
As she forbade me farewell,
And doomed me to this relentless hell;
Withholding my liberty,
My chance to escape…
She bound my hands
And sealed my mouth with tape.
Left here to rot in silent solitude
And to never complain
Or ever again
Ask to be released.
She will not be satisfied until I am deceased.
It won’t be long my dear –
My heart beats its final beats
As the will to endure perishes.
Nothing can live forever in the dark…
‘The prison guard’ ripped my light away,
Now I’ll never see the dawn of day.
My only companion is the voice in my head –
The one saying I’d be better off dead…
Is this what you wanted?
For me to die?
Left to fight to the death – my demons and I?
I shall not win, for my wounds run deep;
If abandonment you sow
Only death will you reap.
My mind and body are weak;
I have not the strength left to even speak.
The pleas for help die in my mouth –
They’re swallowed by my heart;
My insides ripped apart…
These bones break on the walls of frustration;
My blood runs cold on the floors of isolation.
My recovery shot,
My name they forgot.
If willing was enough, then my heart would stop this minute –
For what is life with no light in it?
She trapped me and gagged me, and threw away the key…
Now, without your help I will never again be free.

 

 

 

Poem: Drowning Through Life.

My Prison Soul (1)

 

Drowning Through Life

 

That place between life and death,
That void…
That’s where you’ll find me;
Swimming around in an ocean of emotions
Too immense for the human soul to witness,
Or the human body to contain.
No breaths of relief can be taken here.
I choke on the fluidity of people’s inclination to care,
To stay there,
To see my worth;
I drown in the words unspoken,
Unheard,
The lack of sentiment, the lack of words.
I gulp down indifference
And gargle blame,
Lost in this sea where nobody recalls my name.
Even the sharks that usually circle at the scent of blood
Care little to devour me –
Nowhere to be seen;
Though I bleed profusely from my wounds,
I bleed not red but emerald green…
The colour of envy –
Envious of those who get to live on solid ground
And know not the horror of drowning through life;
Jealousy of those who matter to someone,
Whose cries can be heard and are satisfied
By a love, an interest, a connection,
The warmth of affection –
Not left to the ravaging currents of these ice-cold depths,
Forever a
lone…
My blood is water,
Water, my blood –
My broken heart feeding salt to the sea
Which then in turn reminds me of how those tears came to be.
Can anyone see me here, sinking under the waves?
Am I worthy of being saved?
You’ll see my face in a crowd
But I am not there –
My mind is elsewhere,
In that far-off land – unable to live, not ready to die,
With no-one to help me or to bid me goodbye.
Look for me in between these worlds,
Find my soul;
Please see me
And return me to myself,
Or else
I fear
These days will be my last.

 

 

 

Trigger Upon Trigger.

*Self-harm / suicide references and a lot of bad language – sorry to offend…. personal rant*

 

18th February 2020

 

I’m sorry to vent here, but it’s the only option I have…. I need to make sense of everything in my head. Today was a total headf**k if you’ll excuse me. How do I even put into words the mess I’m living right now??

 

For the last two and a half weeks I’ve been permanently triggered and in a state of extreme anxiety and paranoia. I have had to deal with this on my own. It was caused by somebody at the Wellbeing Centre. I had to wait all this time, until today, to talk about it and resolve how I feel. I went to my group. I had written something about my encounter with the person who triggered me (Z), how it made me feel… why I feel let down again and won’t be opening up anymore. I stated what it was I needed and why. It was not intended to start / continue a conversation. It was to end all conversations. It was just to let them know they f***ed up just like the previous MH service did with me.

 

I didn’t want to just hand over the bit of paper and run out, like the first time I tried to tackle my problem there. I had things I needed to add, to explain what was what, what I wanted and didn’t want, how I didn’t blame those running the group etc., that I don’t want to hear from Z again and had blocked emails from her, that I didn’t want my decision to be taken away from me to continue there…. I wanted to feel that the people running the group know my reality from now on, because nobody will see my reality if I carry on going. I will put on a front. I wanted to wear that mask today, but unfortunately before it started I was further triggered, by the people taking the group. And I couldn’t really control my emotions terribly well. Saying that, I did manage not to bawl my eyes out on the bus.

 

I have been in a constant state of anxiety for the last fortnight… going over and over what I needed to say to them before giving the bit of paper for them to read. I obsessed over it, because I was worried I’d miss something important out. I wanted to feel that sense of relief to have been heard and understood. The day FINALLY came when I could deal with this and put all that anxiety and the bad feelings behind me. I hoped so much that I would feel better after today. But no….

 

Being anxious and also afraid of my request being rejected, I wrote down ‘Sorry to do this… I have a lot of anxiety atm & actually feel scared and ashamed to ask this – but I have something important I need to deal with quite urgently, so could I please borrow the two of you at the end?’ and passed it to them. You can guess where this is going. They said no, basically. They said they’re in trouble for being late to the next group, but I could talk to someone else if I wanted to. Fair enough, but when you consider what I wrote it’s irrelevant. I wrote about my trust being damaged now. That I don’t want to talk to anyone else now. And I felt I wasn’t allowed to talk to them anymore. I talked of being a burden. I talked about closing down now. All I needed was a couple of minutes to just have one final conversation, to get some f***ing relief from this intense sickening anxiety I’ve felt … to feel I’d been listened to … to feel I wasn’t as worthless as Z made me feel. But now X (the person I have feelings for) has made me feel just as worthless, if not more…. because funnily enough he’s probably my FP (Favourite Person) at the moment, and his opinions matter. He affects me emotionally. So being rejected by him today has totally destroyed me. I already felt like a burden to him. I felt so ashamed to ask to talk to him this once more. I feared it. Because I feared more rejection and denial of what I needed, like Z had done. He wasn’t prepared to give me any time. I wanted to die. I still want to die. I have literally just screamed into a pillow and begged a higher power to just kill me. I can’t feel like this any longer.

 

And now having just broken down writing this, I’ve just phoned the Samaritans too. Not the best call I’ve experienced… lots of pauses that made me think they weren’t listening or caring, but never mind. Just one of those days I guess. At least I got some of my feelings out.  Got a sore throat now from that screaming before.

 

I had to phone the Samaritans. There was nothing else I could do. I was doing very bad things to myself, I wanted worse, and I’ve already had diazepam today, and last night, for the anxiety, so that won’t help. I ran out of options. Just have to hope it won’t feel this bad tomorrow. It’s pretty awful tonight. As people are saying I just have to wait and see what comes of what I wrote…. it’s the waiting that’s the problem though. I’ve waited two and a half weeks for relief…. I don’t want to feel this way a minute more. But there’s nothing I can do about it really.

 

Today triggered me, because it completely replicated the very thing I wanted to talk to them about. I asked to have my needs met, and it was denied. I felt like a burden. I felt alone. I felt like I was told to go away and deal with it on my own. I feared rejection in both cases and got it. Every tiny detail from the IAPT service I used a couple of years ago, is being played out at the Centre. And every single bad thing I imagine happening is happening…. so it makes me think I’m right that I will eventually end my own life. Because for the last couple of years my nightmares have all been coming true. It’s almost like premonitions. It’s quite scary.

 

The trouble I’m having is I’m now splitting on my FP – X. I’m angry with him. I’m hurt by him. I don’t want to feel this way towards him. But I do. And he and his colleague were the only two I trusted…. and Z made me feel I can’t talk to them anymore, and they’ve confirmed that by their actions today. I understand they got in trouble for some reason (which I’m now also blaming myself for, for taking their time before)… they don’t want to get in trouble. They’ve obviously been instructed by someone to not allow time to talk at the end if necessary – which is a damn shame, because that is what the IAPT service did too, and it was detrimental to my wellbeing, which I shared with X & co. once before. I do get that they have to do as they’re told. But even the Samaritans woman thought they should’ve helped me if I was asking for it.

 

Reality is I was not going to take much of their time, because I was already PAINFULLY aware of what a nuisance I’ve been. This was the very last time I would have spoken to them. I was denied that. Now I’ll never speak to them again, and I never got that final chance to. I’ve been denied a ‘goodbye’ or closure in a sense. The very problem I wrote about. They have seriously f***ed up. And I bet their response will be ‘Do you think maybe you should stop coming here?’ – as if I’M the problem and the answer is to run away. I bet they won’t stop and think they’re the problem here and can do better for me. I bet they won’t take responsibility for f***ing up. They’ll do what everyone else does and take the easy option of kicking me out and not having to deal with me anymore. I bet. Just wait and see. They do that and I’ll know they’re not listening to me. I’ve not felt this shit in a long time.

 

And all it would have taken to prevent this would have been five minutes of being heard. I hope they’ll reflect on this and realise that although they’ve been told off for being late, in this one situation they should’ve reacted differently. Now they know what the issue was, I hope they feel guilty. Because they have made me feel, like Z did, that their jobs are more important than service-users’ recovery and lives. X has managed to make me feel I don’t matter at all. What happens to me is irrelevant. What matters is having half an hour free so as not to be late for the next group. These people don’t want to bend the rules even a little bit to help someone in dire need. They had no f***ing clue the state I was in and what I’ve been through in the last couple of weeks. All they had to do was care and listen for a few minutes and I wouldn’t have reached this point right now. The point where I just want to be dead. Because nothing else will help this pain.

 

Both of them denied me the thing that would have given me ‘closure’ and made me finally STFU and leave them all alone. Z could’ve given me the reassurances I asked for in my email and I would’ve been spending the last two weeks healing. Instead all my wounds were violently ripped open, to the point I wrote about it, so that I could feel heard. I never got to have the closure and the chance for healing that I needed…. the next best thing would’ve been to feel heard and understood by X. He denied me that chance. They have both f***ed up big time. And copied each other too. I’m just so done with f***ing MH services and their lack of care for the wellbeing of service-users…. or me anyway. It feels like it’s personal.

 

All of this crap makes me wish I’d never said a damn thing to them about what I was struggling with. But I foolishly trusted them to not repeat the same mistakes as the IAPT service. But they have. And it feels a thousand times worse this time. So at the moment I HATE them, more than I ever hated the other service. And this includes the person I have feelings for. So.….

 

I’m just so tired of existing right now. It’s too painful. There is no relief from it. No comfort. No support. No light at the end of the tunnel. I know people care, but the person I want to care doesn’t…. that’s become clear today. And unless he does care, I don’t anymore. Nothing / nobody else matters. That’s what I mean when I say emotionally he is the key. All I needed was to believe for a second that I was worth something to him. That I wasn’t as worthless and irrelevant as I felt. All he had to do was lie. I wish these people would understand how little was actually needed to unlock my whole damn recovery and fix this f***ing mess. I wasn’t asking for much at all. But seems it was still too much. Which makes me feel worthless. I don’t deserve even the bare minimum. That’s how it feels. And the trouble is if they don’t do that little thing that was needed to help me, it creates a bigger problem that requires a bigger solution, which they will NOT give me. It’s the story of my f***ing life. I’m just not worth the effort.

 

 

19th February 2020

 

Made it through the night. Was an uncomfortable night because of what I did to myself, and kept waking up every hour or so, wondering what time it was. When I finally woke up I went straight into thinking mode, as I have done for the last couple of weeks…. my mind doesn’t have an off switch. The only time it’s off is when I’m asleep now. You know what sort of day you’re going to have when the first thing you do in the morning is cry, because of the day before.

 

I texted X to explain how yesterday triggered me further. I probably shouldn’t have. But sod it… I think I’m past that point of caring now:

 

“Hi X. If you’ve read what I wrote, then I hope you can understand just how difficult it was for me to ask to have that final conversation at the end. I feared that rejection I got.

I understand you felt you couldn’t and I know you said I could talk to someone else but you guys were the only ones I trusted. I don’t want to talk to anyone else about this anymore. I only needed 5 mins to explain a couple of things associated with what I wrote. After nearly 3 weeks of sheer hell I just needed a minute to feel heard & to relieve the anxiety I felt, all alone for the longest fortnight of my life. It’s all I would’ve needed. Being denied that was like being denied what I asked from Z… it replicated the very thing I needed to tell you about. Z made me feel worthless… like a number … a burden. Yesterday confirmed that for me. And again I’m sorry I took up so much of your time and made you late that one time. I felt awful about it. Now I pay the price for that.

So yes, I’m extra triggered now and have to get through at least another week of feeling even worse than the last 3… knowing there will be no relief because I’m never opening up again. That was to be the last time. Once I handed the writing over that was it… no more talking. So I had no closure. Everything’s a giant mess. And I don’t know the way out of it anymore.”

 

I don’t expect I’ll get a response. And if I do it’ll probably only trigger me further. I’m just so pissed off because this could all have been avoided had Z listened to what I needed, or if X had given me just five minutes yesterday… that’s all. SO pissed off that all of this could’ve been avoided so simply. It feels like they’re deliberately trying to frustrate me to get me to leave. Even hearing about X’s holiday with his partner was upsetting yesterday – I thought Z said she’d mention to him about not sharing things about his personal life, as it upset me the last time…. guess she didn’t do that. Or if she DID do it then he clearly doesn’t care about hurting me, and is doing it to trigger me and make me leave. They’ll get their wish soon I’m sure. But to be honest if I leave I die. So if they’re trying to force me out then they’re saying they’d rather see me dead than help me.

 

I had wanted a resolution to this whole issue before the three week break. I didn’t get it. I wanted a resolution yesterday. I didn’t get it. There can be no resolution now. These people who are meant to be there to help me have massively triggered me… how can they ever help bring me out of that state of high negative emotions? I can’t see how they can help. X could’ve helped. But since he’s made it worse, and he was the emotional key. There’s nobody else who can help. I don’t know what to do. This isn’t fair.

 

I was so vacant during the group yesterday. And then afterwards I wandered around town in a daze. I was just standing and not knowing what I was doing. At one point I was stood between my two ‘suicide options’… trying to choose which one to do. Thankfully I did neither, and got myself on a bus instead. I figured it was better I went home and hurt myself if necessary, rather than end my life. I really wasn’t safe. I thought of every possible means to exit this world yesterday. I seriously entertained the idea of something I normally wouldn’t. How can it be okay that those I trust to keep me safe and help me, left me feeling that hopeless and alone? Why don’t they care about what they’re doing to me? They’re the ones who need to fix this. It has to be fixed and turned around. The answer can’t be to give up…. If they give up, I give up.

 

(To be continued…)

 

Poem: You Were My Sunrise.

You Were My Sunrise

 

You Were My Sunrise

 

A blindingly stunning sunrise, after a relentless night…
That’s what you were to me as soon as you stepped into sight.
And try as I might,
I cannot forget those first moments in the warmth of the day,
The second you turned vibrant colour from desolate grey.
You made the chaos go away,
Silenced the traffic of my mind,
Settled my heart and made it whole again.
You woke me from my deepest, darkest slumber;
Roused me from the nightmare of living;
Breathed life into my spirit and showed me hope once more.
You emitted a light like I’ve never seen before.
You guided me towards you,
Lifting me from the depths of Hell,
Coaxing me out of my self-imposed shell.
You were the first gasp of air after two years of drowning;
The gentle fall of rain after an intense heatwave.
You encouraged me to be brave.
You were a powerful breeze, clearing the clouds of doubt and burden
From the night sky,
And revealing a star-filled canvas for you and I
To share,
Under the same Heavens, even if I never have you there
Or know the comfort of your care.
You took my hand and raised me upon your shoulders.
You gave me strength long-buried…
Buried by the weight of the world and all upon it,
Who slashed me with goodbye of some kind;
You gave me courage to leave them all behind.
You gave me all this by simply being you –
You probably have no clue
About the ways your sunshine saw me through.
And as the sun sets yet again
And the world returns to darkest night,
I’ll remember you fondly and thank you
For blessing me with your radiant light.
For just a moment I stepped from Hell,
Into the land of the living…
I had faith;
I felt connected –
To you, to life, to me…
You came along and set me free.
My mind was a prison and you were the key.
The others swooped in, locked me up and threw you away…
Never again to see the light of day.
The colours have faded back to grey.
Without you I wither, I wilt,
As ruins become of the inspiration you built.
A chance wasted, opportunity lost;
Alone in this prison cell I will slowly rot,
With treasured memories of you – they’re all that I’ve got.
Thank you for my brief moment in the sun with you…
I’d forgotten the healing touch of Summer’s rays;
And as I fall back into coldest Winter,
You’ll be in my heart,
Always.

Manifestations Of Anxiety.

I’ve noticed in recent weeks that my anxiety is getting much worse. I’m noticing how it’s affecting me physically. I’m really struggling with it to be honest and don’t know how to cope with it.

 

I haven’t really blogged about anxiety before, as it was more under control in recent years… it seems to have got worse since seeking help for my mental health. Anyone who reads my blog might have an idea of what I’m experiencing at the moment, and my mind is pretty preoccupied with that right now. My mind feels packed to the rafters. I feel paranoid, although to me I don’t think it’s paranoia, obviously. And I feel almost obsessive. My mind won’t stop. I’ve had to become obsessed with crochet for the last couple of weeks, to try and stop my mind obsessing over my feelings and the situation I’m in…. I’ve done so much that I’ve damaged a nerve in my thumb now. That’s the level of obsession and emotions.

 

I’ve noticed so many physical symptoms attached to my anxiety. I’m sure some would sympathise when I say that IBS can be an issue. My emotions definitely affect my stomach. More recently I just feel discomfort and lose my appetite. Food doesn’t interest me. The discomfort of eating in public is coming back – any situation that might require eating in front of people I don’t know, I will avoid.

 

I don’t want to sleep – I stay up late thinking – I think I was awake until 3am last night, and only had about six hours of sleep.  And when I wake up I’m straight into obsessing over everything, so can’t go back to sleep. I’m feeling impatient to sort out this issue that I’ve sat on for two weeks. I know I won’t feel better after having done it, as a new wave of anxiety and issues will start, but having to sit with such uncomfortable feelings on my own for this long, it’s been hard. Saying that, I sometimes just want to sleep through it all and wake up when I can handle it. But the whole ‘can’t eat, can’t sleep’ thing seems to be the main thing for me.

 

Very recently I’ve struggled with breathing. Feeling I can’t breathe deeply enough. Seeming out of breath when walking – and it’s not because I’m unfit… I’ve been walking more this year, so my fitness is doing better. I know it’s anxiety related.

 

I also have palpitations. I sometimes get ectopic heartbeats, so extra beats, where it can feel like your heart stops beating for a second and then it thumps extra hard – I think it’s something to do with electrical impulses to the heart that makes it add an extra beat. It’s odd that it’s actually extra heartbeats when it feels like missed heartbeats. I’ve had them before and the more you’re aware of them, the more they seem to happen. But recently it’s all the time. I’m not even aware of them in that sense. But if I’m imagining a scenario, or I’m about to go out, or exercising… or anything really, my heart is going crazy… like it hasn’t got a set rhythm. The trouble is that makes you start to worry there’s something wrong with your heart – which will then make it worse. I guess more than anything they’re annoying. But I do feel a little ‘off ‘when I get them. This is one of the biggest issues with my anxiety.

 

The other one being the tics. This happens mainly when I’m outside the house and around people. I’ll blink and it feels like I haven’t blinked hard enough. I know that sounds stupid… but yeah, I’d call it a blinking tic. And I feel sure people will notice it and think I’m weird or whatever, and that anxiety about people noticing it makes me do it more. It’s frustrating. I find it’s worse when it’s cold and windy – probably because I wear contacts, so it makes me need to blink more in the first place. I think the answer is to close my eyes and breathe. But it’s hard to do that walking along! I actually have a stomach tic too, which thankfully isn’t noticeable like the blinking one. I used to have this when I ate food, back in the days I was thin and didn’t really eat much food as I thought I was fat. I’d feel uncomfortable, so I’d tense the muscles in my stomach and once I started I couldn’t stop. But that’s not as often now as the face one.

 

Obviously I clench my teeth and get headaches associated with it. Same with other aches – I probably hold a lot of tension in my back, shoulders etc.

 

And my hair issues have become worse again too. For a few weeks I didn’t pull hairs out. I didn’t cut split ends off. It’s one thing that definitely improved. But it’s returned now. Obviously that’s something I do privately at home, but again, it’s obsessive…. it’s compulsive…. it takes over and I have to do it. I know it’s related to the anxiety and maybe the impatience I feel at the moment.

 

I just want to get on and resolve this issue. It’s the anticipation of it – having to psych myself up to confront it and follow through on it. Not knowing what reaction there will be. What consequences there could be. Knowing that once I’ve done it I can’t undo it, but also there will be nothing more I can do. Things are really bad at the moment… I just want them to be aware of it. I’m in a very triggered state right now, in so many ways. It’s too much to deal with alone.

 

I’ll write more about anxiety at some point, but just needed to get this out there. It’s a huge issue for me now.

 

 

 

Poem: Him.

Him

 

Him

 

The intimate eyes I’ll never see,
The hand I’ll never hold,
The lips that never will meet with my own,
The love I’ll never be told.

The smile that doesn’t belong to me,
The arms that will not hold me close,
The heart that does not beat for me,
The soul I crave the most.

The secrets I will never know,
The life I cannot share –
Any other time or place
Life may not be this unfair.

A candle in my darkest depths,
A light to guide my way,
A reason to keep holding on
To stay and fight another day.

Inspiration to create,
To open up and to give,
A hope there’s purpose in the pain,
Encouragement to live.

A longing for requited love,
Sorrow when we part,
The rules are keeping me at bay,
And another owns your heart.

Tragically only mine to lose,
A tear falls from my eye…
You only came into my life
For another sad goodbye.