Care in the community

Good evening. I am unfortunately rather drunk! And I am crying. I am tired of being sober and conscious. Thinking is just too hard to do (quote from 28 days, not original I’m afraid). I have had enough of everything. Nothing lasts. I cry at night, most nights because I am deeply lonely and flawed. Today I gave an important talk – to my fellow theologians. 20% of my final mark rested on giving an impressive evaluation of a bible passage. It was nothing really. I just evaluated it, looked it up and formed a coherent talk. I was proud of the fact I did it on time and in the correct situation. But in actual fact, I have now crashed and that rare achievement of getting something right is out-weighed by the reality that I am alone and will always be so. Borderline patients do get better over time or with the right therapeutic interventions. The statistics confirm this. But I think the truth lies in the life circumstance of the person. If I could meet the right person and have someone love me enough, then of course. I would get better.

Thus, I am doomed. Nothing is good enough. No one will ever choose to love me and that is what drives me to destruction. My family have supported me so much and they are so kind. I love them more than anything else. I feel so guilty that even the smallest victory, like today, is clouded over by sadness and this crashing feeling of being deeply unhappy. I cannot achieve what I want. And nothing else is good enough. When is second best what your heart’s desire? I do not want the earth; I just want to make a difference in other peoples lives. To be useful and helpful rather than a drain and an eternal pain in the arse.

I have four essays to do. I have a fair amount of time and it is not impossible to do. But I am not sure I care all the time to make to deadlines. I can do it. I should do it. And on my good days, I can see me in my graduation gown, with my mortar board hat on, walking calmly along the stage as I receive my degree. But I also see me plunging off the local mutli-storey car park, still dressed in my graduation gear and putting an end to this nightmare. I want to graduate and die. I cannot be in this world. People are too cruel, life moves too fast and society is nothing that I can see myself being part of. People are evil, they make money out of misery, they hurt and are so selfish that humane acts of altruism are questioned as not being possible, there has to be another agenda, that of personal gain. I only need enough money to live on, a person that cares about me and a job I believe in. Is that so bad? I live on benefits, in a flat that I have not chosen for myself and I am falling apart because my so-called care team have not seen me in 5 weeks. A hurt me, I mean really hurt me. But I let him. I did not fight and I ignored every warning. It is not until now that realise how hurt I feel. It’s like I am 15 all over again except there are no answers. I was pregnant then but I am not now. I thought I was but I am not. I have failed at even that, the only chance of making something good out of a horrible situation. If only A have made me pregnant then the whole thing would have been worthwhile But there is no meaning. He is fine, probably drunk or stoned as usual. I feel hurt but I shouldn’t. I was in a relationship with him so what was it about that night that hurt me so much? I cannot define that line which he crossed and in my thoughts, I see him and the bloke who hurt me when I was 15, merging into one. I wake scared, with no real reason for being so frightened. I cut and I hurt but that is not enough. I feel sorry for myself and then hate myself for being so weak. My pathetic utterings and mumblings are nothing. I want to write, to get it out but nothing does take it away. So I get drunk, even too drunk to type (thank goodness for spell-check!), I buy things I do not need or want. I confide in good friends but only the bit of truth they can handle, not the full unvarnished horrible reality. And cry myself to sleep thinking of things I wish I could block out. I am so sorry. I wish I could be the good person everyone wants rather than the fuck-up I actually am. I cannot be this person. But how can I escape? Pass me the vodka, please …

The spring holidays are upon us and I am very glad to have some time to catch up with things. Everything has got a bit out of control I terms of the flat, laundry, rubbish etc. I went home on Friday and just broke down in front of my parents so they came back with me on Saturday. I know that when I need help, I am not that great at asking but I felt so guilty for not keeping up the ‘everything is fine’ façade. Anyway, the flat is much better and just one days’ hard graft got it back to looking ok. My parents have been very kind but I know I am disappointing them. When I broke my ankle, they had to sort out my previous flat and thus found all my self harm stuff and cannabis stash. We needed a session with my psychologist to sort it all out! But all is well again and I guess that is all that matters.

I have been staying with another ex-unit person as well. She is doing ok but was facing a hard day so we got together and had a DVD night. It was so nice to talk and know that the other really understood. I think the other people I was in London with are my true friends and I want so much to keep in contact with them. They are like a family but one where I don’t have to pretend. I am so scared that we will lose touch or the others will want to move on and forget me. The loneliness that I feel is there even when I am with my other friends but with them, I feel accepted and safe. However, I know that part of my condition is forming intense relationships that never last and that scares me when I really care.

I should be doing lots more uni work but I just need some time to think about things. The tarot card reading went very well and I am now trying to write a book because that was the advice that the cards gave. I think that some of the things that came up were a bit wrong but it is my choice about all of it; the cards only guide. I am a bit worried about a possible ‘blip’ in a month or so. I usually have issues around my birthday so perhaps that is all that the ‘blip’ will be. But the book idea has been suggested by lots of people and I just feel that slowly I can piece together my past and use it to move on. The tarot reader said that the book might even help people – that would be so worth it. I do realise that as a Christian I should not be using such things but the tarot cards do not invalidate my faith in God, the reading just helped me focus on better things (other than being bonkers!)

The recent events are still affecting me and I did self harm last night. It was not so bad and the staff were fine. I harmed because I could not calm down. I was jumpy and all over the place, the cut was the least harm I could do. I feel so scared at times, angry at others and such self-hatred for getting myself into this that I get really confused. I have not had therapy or counselling this week and although I know I am over-thinking things and over-therapised but the space to think out loud would be very useful. I hope that the chance to have the sexual assault counselling will be allowed, my psychiatrist has to confirm that I can handle it before the centre will schedule any appointments. It is very frustrating; I wish I could make the decision myself but my behaviour has forced people to make decisions for me so it is, once again, my fault.

Right, back to Diagnosis Murder I suppose. I just love the ‘drama’, its like chewing gum for the brain!!! (and thus just what I need … LOL)

Since my last post, things have changed a bit.
I was admitted to the acute psychiatric ward for a week and had some very valuable time out to rest and to think. I made some important decisions and hope that now I am at home again, I can slowly sort my life out, bit by bit. The crisis team and my psychiatrist decided that I was safer in the ward for a week and I am grateful that they finally listened to me. I didn’t want to go in but now I am back, I can see that I was so out of control with my thoughts, feelings and behaviour that I needed to take time out. I am no longer classed as psychotic – whether that is the drugs or just being a bit calmer, I am unsure. The most important thing has been quite accidental. I had to go to the sexual health clinic to be treated for my caustic soda burn. It turns out that I had an infection and I was given antibiotics. Whilst the staff were professional, they were shocked and referred me to a counsellor. I didn’t realise that it was that easy to help. The counsellor was part of the local rape crisis team and was very kind. In my own time, I was honest about what happened. She listened and did not judge, something that I was crying out for. I realised that I was more than assaulted and that she would see me for a fixed number of sessions to help me work this through. She treated me like a person, not a mental health patient, which was just what I needed. All the so-called help I got from the crisis team and mental health services saw me as a borderline in crisis not seeing the whole picture including what had happened. So, I took the time in the ward to think about having this help and moving on. I still very much want to graduate and change my life. I was at the point of suicide and I couldn’t do it. I think it was more than just being a coward, although I am not in any way brave, it was more that I do not want to die, just yet. I love my family very much and I couldn’t end it without trying to fix things first. That was probably the most positive thing I have done recently, although again, I didn’t realise it at the time.
With this in mind, I have tried other ways of making things better. I have an interview this week at a pet rescue centre to be a volunteer. I think if I try to do something good for other people (or animals!) then I might be able to make a difference. It might give me something to keep going for – even though that at the moment I feel very tired and miserable. I have also booked a haircut and a Tarot card reading. I know that as a Christian, Tarot cards are inviting possible bad forces to work in my life but I just want another perspective about what I want to do with my life. The reader said that all she does is use what is already there to advise; not to predict the future or impose ideas that might be harmful. My mother has found it very helpful in the past, so it's time to try something different.
I am still scared, I still have difficult thoughts, I still self harm and I still feel very down … but I am a bit more in control and hopefully, that will be enough for now. The people involved in my care are going to meet to discuss what to do next and I am grateful for their care, but right now, I think I can do more for myself. I do not need a CPN who refuses to see me when I really needed her, I do not need to be in an institution and I do not need heavy, sedating drugs all the time. I choose to try and be more than just a victim of her own hand … I just hope that trying wont hurt more than giving up. Sadness doesn’t go away, I have cried more than I have done in ages this week but you can’t stay sad and self-pitying forever.
(Thank you for reading this, it means a lot that people I don't really know are kind enough to help and advise me)

I do not know what to say or write. I am currently under the care of my CMHT crisis team. I don’t know exactly what they are supposed to do but I have had their help for a week and I am not feeling very ‘helped’. I have been stuck on a new drug which is an anti-psychotic. They are horrible drugs and I do not feel any benefit (yet?). I know these things take time but I am beyond what I can cope with. I have harmed myself a lot including a caustic soda burn - which is really different from what I usually do. My psychologist says I am becoming psychotic and am losing touch with reality. I just know I feel very anxious and not myself. I was meant to help out with a uni mental health day but I couldn’t face it – yet I am still managing to attend lectures. I know it is very near the end of term and I am worried about the deadlines approaching rapidly. But the kick off for this lies with what happened a few weeks ago. I was assaulted and I thought I had dealt with it. But I am so scared all the time and the whole psychosis thing indicates that I have not dealt with it at all. I don’t really know what I am so scared of. The crisis team are just seeing me for an hour each day and are so patronising that I feel terribly humiliated. I know how to plan distractions and all that arse. It is just a stop-gap … a tick in the box of concerned care when actually I feel more alone than ever. I have such problems sleeping – again, I wake up terrified but with no idea what is so scary. I don’t know what to do for the best. I have a review tomorrow with the whole team (I say that in the loosest sense as CPN from hell is refusing to see me (too busy and I have the crisis team – apparently), care co-ordinator is on leave AGAIN and psychologist never comes to meetings) But to get that, I had to ask for admission. That in itself is a difficult issue. I don’t really want to end up in acute but I do not want to feel like this either. I don’t know what else can help and I think it was somewhat of an empty request really. I have this new drug but the doctor prescribing it did not actually see me, he just did it and left the script for me to collect. I do not think that is sensible or fair. I do not like my consultant. He seems very happy to hand over my care to anyone else who can do it instead of seeing me himself so I do not know how he can tell what is going on with me. The nurses give their opinion and he reacts accordingly. But these nurses do not know me. I have been under their care before but you don’t really have any therapeutic involvement – they do not ask why or what are the deeper issues of what is going on. It’s just what are you feeling (in one sentence) and what are you going to do about it. I don’t think they can know what is truly going on with me. I am so confused and tired … I cannot trust anything or anyone and I have had enough. If that is admission criteria, fine but I don’t think a ward is the right place necessarily. It too is a stop-gap …so what else is there? And more importantly, what is going to really help and make the difference? I have tried seeing my parents and I couldn’t tell them what was bothering me – I just pretended I was fine. I have also tried my friends. I had a nice time with them in Brighton but then I had to come home and the anxiety just started up again.
I know I am whinging and going on, I am sorry but only here can I voice the truth. I cannot talk to the crisis team, I just tell them what they want to hear. And I saw my best friend today, my closest friend from years ago and although I loved seeing her, I felt this huge sense of change. She has a 2 year old child and another one on the way, I am cycling back into trouble yet again. May be I am in such a downer that every good thing feels sad and empty …

The only good bit is the fact that one of my favourite books is going to be on TV – Poppy Shakespeare. That is a truly classic book and for the record, I am definitely a dribbler not a flop!!!

Evening All!

The last week or so has not been one of my finest. I have been very busy and most of that is to do with good and positive things but there are few downers as per usual.

The good stuff is that for my first 2 pieces of university work for this academic year have come back with good marks and comments from my lecturers. Even the Old Testament Studies lecturer has been surprised that I have managed to do anything because in the past I have not done so well in his lectures and often had to drop his modules when I was too unwell to continue. I think I have proved that I can do the work and that I made the right decision to return to uni. I am trying very hard to find a way to get through to the class and talk more in lectures and break times. I had to do a presentation last night and I was so scared, I had an upset tummy all day but I did it and to my surprise the class applauded me twice. I am trying to gain confidence from all this and be more focused on what I am doing. I have been thinking very seriously about the future but I think that for now, I just have to look to graduating and then think of what to do next. Sometimes I have found that the universe does provide answers when you don’t expect them although my mother has recently visited a tarot card reader for advice and she said that the woman really knew her stuff so I am planning to go, as soon as possible.

I also managed to buy some very nice clothes again but this time I went shopping with m y housing support worker who is much easier to shop with than my mother! I did not realise that New Look now has a lard-arse range and I actually fit in their stuff. It is so nice to shop somewhere other than Evans (the Hefty-hide away – the UK version of the shop in hairspray!!!). I like what I have chosen and I hope that it will make me feel more comfortable in my own skin. That sounds like a load of arse but I frequently just wear what will cover up my scars and fat rather than what I’d actually like to wear. My mum calls it camouflage- dressing not to cause offence or draw attention to myself. But these clothes are a bit nice than my usual stuff – I take student grunge to a new level most days – so 2 nice shirts and a pair of linen trousers are a bit of a break for me!

Plus, I am very excited about this weekend – I am going away to London to see my favourite band, the Levellers, in concert at the Brixton Academy. The gig should be huge as it is their 20th anniversary year. I cannot wait as I have now booked a hotel room so I can stay the night and not miss part of the gig to get the last train home. I love seeing them play, it is the only time I get to be myself as most people expect weirdness at their gigs and their politics and outlook is so my true style that I can be whoever I want to be when I go and see them. Their music is amazing and played with such conviction that I live for these gigs – I have seen them over 15 times in all sorts of places and I just love it. I told my psychologist about how I feel and she said it was nice that I could tell her a bit more about me and the positive stuff I live for – although it wasn’t strictly therapeutic in the straightforward sense. I had a useful session with her and I managed to get to the true feelings of grief and sadness that I usually try to avoid by arguing and stuff. I even cried, which is not my style in sessions.

But … despite all these positives and behind it all is the truth … I have self harmed to extent that I have over 40 stitches in me at the moment. To keep going and face everything, I have to cut – deeply. Each time I cut, I still face the same lottery of treatment and feel such guilt that I cannot see how, in any rational sense, this actually helps. But it does. I can only function at the level I want to if I can cut. Mother’s day set me off – my parents could not be bothered to phone me and I had to not phone them because my sister was home and I couldn’t face speaking to her if she answered it. We have not seen each other for nearly a year now and it makes me very sad. I have to back off and leave her be but I miss her so much. Plus it was on mother’s day a few years ago that I cut so badly I needed to be resuscitated. I still think about that moment a lot – I had a chance to die and I couldn’t – something inside of me wanted to live. And I just do not understand that at all. I should be pleased to be alive and glad that I had that self-survivor thing but I instead angry and bewildered as to why I have been kept alive. It is very hard to explain and I don’t really know how to put it, but on Buffy, when Willow raises her from the dead, she had a feeling that she’d left something of herself behind … that she wasn’t meant to be. And I think that is how I feel (although I did not sleep with a vampire to get over it!)

Anyway, I am just hanging on to the thoughts of the gig and the fact I can do the uni work I have to do. If it means I still cut, then that is just the way it is. At least then I can still function – and it is happening less than before I went to the CRU.

I am currently waiting for an emergency plumber for the 4th time since I moved into this flat (Nov 07) The toilet continually blocks and I am now getting very tired of having the same people come out, fix it for now, but do nothing for the underlying issues (ie. The toilet is pants and needs replacing) Grrr. At least the repairs are free as an emergency plumber at this time of night would not come cheap. Thankfully, it is covered as part of my tenancy.

Aside from the momentary inconvenience, I am not in the best of moods. I have just spent half term lazing around and doing as little as possible – a few trips to hospital etc but other than that, a quiet time all round. I have been thinking about a lot of things. The biggest problem is this bloke I have been ‘seeing’. I know, I really know he is such a bad person for me to be around. I hate going there. I hate what we do but I need it. I don’t really understand why – I think that he lets me feel less alone and useless. I know that is no real excuse but I am terribly lonely. I thought that uni would provide a way of being around people more but I feel so alone there. I don’t mix with my groups because I feel that I have nothing of value to say. I am very tired of having to try so very hard when I feel like I am getting nowhere. I don’t want to go back tomorrow. I quite like being at home with nothing much to do but I know I will get bored and it is an income, student loads make my life much more bearable.

Other than that, life just goes on. I have self harmed again but not too badly and I am now off the crisis team intervention. I found them quite useful in the end. And I think that if I get bad again in the future, they are a good team to try and avoid the acute inpatient unit.

My head is full of the London unit. This time last year I was freaking out about going there. I was so scared of what it would be like and I so desperately hoped they would cure me … I miss the staff and other residents so much. Talking to a few other ex-res, they say it takes time but they miss some of it too. But I seriously want to have another full admission. I don’t think the unit would ever take me again, they never have before. I tell my psychologist this and she is trying to find ways to replicate the principles of the unit here in Chichester. It is not enough though. This awful sense of loneliness scares me. If I died, no one would find me for days. How can life have come to this?

Sorry.

++++news just in: toilet is fixed … Yeah!!!!++++

I am glad to get back into this blog – it is such a useful way of sorting out how I am feeling and what is going on for me at the moment.

Life has been particularly turbulent. I am currently under the care of the community mental health team crisis resolution team – a big long title for what used to be called the home treatment team. There are a group of nurses that can look after you at home via the 24 hour phone service and home visits. They generally help you stay out of hospital and can be there for about 2 weeks. Before going to London, I never used to use the service because I thought it was a cheap stop-gap and a way of keeping me out of the acute unit when that is the only place that really helped – but I decided to accept their offer of cover because I have been on a real downer this past week or so and I really couldn’t face being on my own with it – but I didn’t want to get so bad that I needed admission. A bit of a different approach which seems to have helped and I am certainly no longer in so much distress that I need the acute unit. After the Christmas and New Year admission, I have resolved to not go there again if I can help it.

The whole bad patch started last week when I self harmed and ended up going to another hospital for treatment because St. Richard’s were so evil. I knew that my behaviour was out of line and that I was heading for trouble. This time of year is very hard for me as it is the anniversary of being raped and getting pregnant. I was only 15 and I never told anyone until I went to London – I didn’t even acknowledge the truth of what had happened – I told myself that it was my fault and although I felt a great deal of pain and sadness, I thought that what had happened was to be a secret forever. But now I have begun to speak about it, I need more help to deal with it. I still have horrendous flashbacks and intrusive thoughts, as well as other problems with men – so I asked my psychologist what to do but she says I am not ready to have therapy about it because I get so upset and have a crisis every time something even remotely difficult comes up. I need to learn life skills first. So, I dealt with the first difficult day last Tuesday by self harming quite badly – another 18 stitches. A&E were very kind though, they helped me see the psych. Nurse on call and get a referral to the home treatment team for more support. The nurses who came to see me were very practical and they helped me plan stuff to do to keep me busy and avoid any further harm. I then saw my psychologist – it was a very hard session and at the end she said she did not know how to help me so she was taking me to supervision. I know that most psych staff do have a supervisor of some sort and they are neutral mentors who help think further about their patients and give guidance etc. But I am terrified that I have not been a good patient and that she is going to not see me anymore. I know I am difficult to work with and I push people but I like my psychologist and I trust her more any other psychologist I have ever had (5 in total). I want to keep working with her. Tomorrow I see her again and I am so scared it will be the end of our work. I got through the rest of the week by using the help from the team. I tried to remain at uni and attend classes – I only bunked off one and feel asleep in another because I’d been at A&E all night and I was just so tired. But by Sunday, I was exhausted and I couldn’t fight the urge to self harm any ore, I had to do it. So now I have 3 wounds that needed 56 stitches in total. It is not good. I am very depressed and tired. My arms hurt so much and I just cannot get any rest. The bloke I am ‘seeing’ hasn’t helped. He did a lot of cocaine at the weekend and was ‘on one’ last night which kind of added to it. I have to say the on call nurses have been very patient with me – and at least I am at home.

University is ok – I am behind on a piece of work and having a few issues. The nurses suggested I contact the college mental health advisor for some extra help to catch up which I will do on Thursday – once I have got through tomorrow.
I have lied to my parents and said that I am doing fine. I cannot bear to upset them again although when I saw mum the other day for lunch, she commented on my arm and hinted that she could see that I am saying one thing and doing another. I said it was from ages ago.

The only good thing is that I have managed to see someone from the unit. She left before me but we had about 3 months of time together. I like her a lot so I really appreciated her meeting up with me. We went to the Tate Modern – a bit of culture for a change. As we talked, I had planned to be honest with her but I found that she was struggling a bit also and I couldn’t tell her the truth – but I still liked seeing her and I realise that the unit in London is just the start of sorting things out. She is having trauma therapy and says it is horrible but helpful – I hope that I can try that soon. She said that may be it is time to try a new therapist and that more boundaries in the work with someone like that is often more helpful in making progress. I’ve been drifting in therapy, never staying too long on a topic and not having a plan. Perhaps it is time for a change? I don’t know … the thought of another therapist and possible waiting list time is very daunting.

Half term next week or ‘student directed learning’ week as we are supposed to call it! Yeah! Time to go shopping … oh and may be an essay or 2!!!!!!

I have not blogged for the longest time since this blog started. This has been because since my lat entry, life has become so very hectic that I have not had time and I developed a bit of an irrational fear that every time I turned the computer on, people were watching me and expecting things of me. Very strange but 2 weeks in the acute psychiatric ward sorted that out.

I am now settled in the new flat. It is ok most of the time and I certainly like being on the ground floor. I can now do shopping and taking the rubbish out without assistance which makes my life a lot easier. The only downside (and it is a small one) is that I only have 4 TV channels. There is no freeview or cable and sky dishes are forbidden. I miss the variety of TV on freeview but I have a lot of videos and DVDs to occupy me.

I am back at university now. I have gone back to a new class and to subjects I am not very good at, but at least I am back. I feel very isolated there; all my friends have already graduated. I am trying to get to know the new people I meet but they remain very clique-y – I have a lot of trouble at break times and it m=reminds me of school. But on the whole, I am so busy with set reading and research that I am much happier back there than I would be if I dropped out altogether.

I am struggling with issues from the past that seem to have got more immediate since I did all the therapy up in London. It was like a cooking pot had been stirred and all the stuff stuck to the bottom is now nearer the surface. My psychology sessions continue but I do not feel that much progress is being made. I cannot do any of the trauma work that I need to in order to deal with all these stirred up memories because taking about it increases my self harm and flashbacks, so I supposed to be getting that under more control first, but the memories plague me all the time. Dreams, flashbacks, intrusive thoughts and anniversary days are all very hard to deal with but I cannot bring them to therapy because my psychologist days I am not ready. I really do not understand. I was ready in London but not here? I guess that in the unit, I had 24 care and support so the nasty stuff could be faced knowing that I would be safe. But I can’t help but feel that the progress I made there is not good enough and that life should be better than it is. I miss the unit so much. I still think about the staff and residents a great deal and wish I could be back there for longer. Ironic really considering how much it did my head in whilst I was there!!! I am still very angry with myself for not having been able to cease self harming. I cut myself last week and was treated like shite again by the hospital. I have reduced the frequency of the episodes but the cuts are still deep and difficult to stitch. I needed 22 stitches last time and that is about average. I am resorting to various methods of self harm that cause a lot of damage to my body including cannabis use and sex with a bloke that cares nothing for me.

When I think back to a year ago, I know that in many ways I am doing so much better. I am very lucky to have had such an experience in London and I do not regret the decision to go there. But I had a lot of hope then and that is slowly fading. I fear being stuck like this for a long time. Just existing and trying so hard to complete a basic course whilst keeping the flat going and life ticking over. I feel very alone and it wont go away. Sorry.

Much change since I last posted here; let me explain …

Well, first and foremost is that I decided to accept the offer of the flat and I move this Friday (30th Nov). I know that ground floor will make my life easier and I could do with a new start. Although its location sucks but it is still within reach of all the usual services (hospital, GP and college). I went there this morning to get the painter started and am going back to clean later on. I was very fortunate to find a painter at such sort notice but he is from church and someone I am doing the alpha course with. I think that was God moving in my life and certainly helped me feel like I made the right decision in moving. It is highly stressful and I haven’t slept properly since my last post. I have been frequenting A&E a fair amount as well, but being stressed over moving is a normal thing, I just don’t have the greatest coping skills. I am missing the weekly group at the unit this week but I aim to be back next week once the move has happened. I must admit there is another positive thing; I am getting a chance to sort out all my junk and I am determined to only move the stuff I want rather than the accumulated crap that has been piling up for years. Going through it all has been a bit difficult as old letters and diaries bring up a lot of memories etc but I think less rubbish will be better for me in the long run. I have also had to be more organised and focused which has got me out of bed and doing things which is another good thing. My parents are being excellent and helping me a great deal. There have been a few heated exchanges, particularly in Homebase over paint colours but I think Homebase is somewhere that everyone argues (I saw a number of people in a similar situation!!!). Despite all my worries and misgivings about it all, so far things have worked out quite well. But the next few days are going to be quite tiring and stressful. I tried to ask my GP for diazepam but she was not having any of it! I don’t blame her really, this is a normal thing to do and if I have too many drugs flying around my brain, I might forget something important.

My relationship with A is something I am giving a lot of thought to. I have been seeing him more this week because he is upset that I am moving and worried I will du p him as a result. But it is not much of a relationship and I think it is more a harm than a good. Saying that, I still go and see him and it is does fulfil me in a way I do not fully understand. Various professionals think that I am using him to self harm. At the unit I had to report each time I slept with him as self harm and I can see their point but I do not want to hurt him as I know he wants a lot more from the relationship than I do but genuinely seems to like seeing me.. I am worried that I am using him but he does get something out of seeing me too, I think. It’s all very complicated. I will see how I feel when I have moved and decide then as to whether this ends or not.

Therapy has changed a lot recently, my psychologist really got to me yesterday, she says I have borderline personality type behaviour but really I do not have the full personality that goes with it – it’s like I have taken on borderline as an identity and I am actually just someone who has depression, self harms and had PTSD. I had wondered for a while as to whether I am a true borderline as I have never been in trouble with the police and I have not been held on a long section. But to hear her say this has thrown me quite a lot. If I am not a borderline, then who am i? Sounds incredibly trite and melodramatic but if I think about it properly, then I do freak out because I have no real idea of who I am and what I am going to do with my life. I have had so many different career ideas and none of them have really stuck. I am doing theology as a bit of a ‘it will do’ course rather than a true passion. For so long, with my asthma, I never thought I’d have a very long life so I didn’t really give it any deep thought. I was scared to hope and got so depressed that I couldn’t see anything beyond being 30. But I now feel quite indestructible – I have lived through so many arrests and resuscitations that I am a lot stronger than I realise. It doesn’t make me happy though, I am not exactly pleased to be alive and I am really cross in many ways, but the fact of the matter is that despite wanting to die and not wanting any sort of a life, I am alive and so I must think of what I am going to do with it. May be that way I will find a way to keep going rather than this half life always in crisis and being such a nightmare to be around. I am too cowardly to complete suicide, so there must be at least a little bit of me that wants to live. This is quite a step away from my usual thinking – I am far more likely to whinge on and on rather than be honest and face the fact that I have to do something. I do truly want to make a difference to the world and be a useful member of society – I am not sure how though.

So things have moved on and the unit has helped a lot in that, but so has my psychologist – she is a brave person to confront me on this, I can be so fierce sometimes. I am lucky to have so many people care for me and I just wish I was worth it.

Right, time to return AGAIN to Homebase and get yet more bloody paint (I think I should get a loyalty card because at this rate, I’ll own the place in no time !!!)

Good morning!

It is before 7am and I never usually get up this early except for church. I cannot sleep, which is fairly unusual for me. I have heavy doses of sleeping meds that usually knock me out really well but I am deeply unsettled at the moment.

Let me explain; I am having to move. To give a brief history to this, I have to return to 1998 when I originally moved to Chichester. I was in students halls as a first year at uni. I moved into a shared house in 1999, as a normal student would but then it all fell apart. I took a massive OD and then my housemates did not want me in their house anymore. Understandable really. I left uni and was housed in Chichester by a youth housing organisation called The Foyer. It was like en-suite uni halls but with 24-7 youth workers. After 3 and a half years there, I got thrown out for self harming (I wreaked 3 carpets and nearly died on 2 occasions). Again, understandable. So then I spent a year homeless in a hostel – which was pure hell and my harming was out of control. I was finally offered this flat in 2004 and although it was 2nd floor, I took it just to get out of the hostel. I never thought I’d end up leaving here but I was never really settled. I hated this flat because the previous occupant died in my bedroom and I felt some kind of atmosphere. I had a priest come and bless the flat but it took me over 6 months to actually sleep in my bed, I slept on a futon in the lounge! But although the flat is still decorated with ‘old lady chic’ (ie pink flowers and lace net curtains), I have made it into something I can just about live with. That was until I broke my ankle. Now, I cannot manage the stairs easily and I cannot manage to take out rubbish or get shopping up the stairs. It is such a struggle to go out, I often don’t bother. That is my main reason for moving. There are other reasons like a fresh start, getting away from A (the bloke from downstairs that I am having an ‘unhealthy’ relationship with – we just sleep together out of loneliness and at the unit they thought it was not a helpful thing to be doing, I am torn as I still like seeing him but it is not a normal thing to be doing really), and I can re-decorate the new place so I like it.

I have been offered this flat by the housing association. It is right on a motorway and has lots of other mental health patients in it (a few I recognise from acute psych inpatients). But it is ground floor and is a blank canvas in terms of decorating. I get all new flooring and money toward decorating etc but I have to move in 2 weeks. It feels such a good opportunity and such an overwhelming hassle all at once and I am scared. I do not know if I can cope with such a challenge – borderlines do not do change very well and I have to change housing support worker at the same time. My parents and the unit both agree it would be the right thing to do. But I am not happy. I am frustrated that is not my choice. I do not have a mortgage or any say in what I want and where I want, it is all council rules and decisions. If I do move, then will I lose A? Do I want to lose A? Will it be a case of ‘same shit, different place?’ Borderlines are known for ‘doing a geographical’ – moving physically to fix the internal, psychological chaos. It is easy to think right; I will not self harm there. I will be good and make a fresh start. But that didn’t work here and I very much doubt it will work anywhere. I feel forced into this and that is never a good situation for a borderline, control is very important and when I am forced into things, I tend to go off the rails and kick at anybody who represents that – like this new housing worker who I haven’t met but already hate!

Add to that the general state of things: just coming out of the unit, the fact I have broken the washing machine, I am still not speaking to my psychiatrist and I am mounting a campaign to have a planned admission to acute psych for Christmas as my family are being impossible, whilst all around me everyone thinks I am fine and ‘much better’ than I was before I went to London, and are expecting me to handle everything far better than I actually can; and you have a very miserable and unhappy Sian. That is why I cannot sleep and I feel like self harming SO much.

Yes, I have fantastic support and I am grateful. I have a great flat to move to – if I don’t take it then I could be waiting years for another one. I am lucky this has come up now and the timing is almost an good omen in itself. 2 weeks is enough time to sort everything out, I even have the keys and can get it cleaned and decorated before I move.

But I just wish I was dead. I don’t want any of this, this so-called life that has nothing in it that I want. I want a different body that works. I want a job and a career so I can earn my money, choose more about my life and stop scrounging of the state for everything. I want a real relationship with someone I respect and care deeply for. None of these are unrealistic expectations yet they are for me. And nothing I can have, that I can do, will never be enough. I feel like there is little point moving or trying when I know that the best I can ever be will be no where near what I will accept and be content with.

I hate feeling like this.