July 28, 2009
So you may or may not have established that I am coping badly on my own and despite my mothers best attempts to set me up with the offspring of assorted workcolleagues, it seems set to stay that way. Since internet dating is meant to be the in thing these days I thought I’d have a go at my own advert.
WARNING: The following is my attempt at coping using bitterly sarcastic humour. Please ignore if easily offended/triggered.
Female, 23. I’d say GSOH but more a bitterly twisted and incredibly sarcastic sense of humour that has a tendency to go too far without my realising it. I suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder. This means I will come across as manipulative, demanding, nagging and repetitive while I think I am being truthful, kind, considerate and caring. Any attempts to point this out to me will be met badly. I will have a plan in my head of how I expect you to behave (which will obviously not be explained to you) and if you do not act in a manner that fits it, I will allow it to ruin at the very least the rest of the day, probably the whole week. I am moody and suicidal. There’s a good chance I will attempt to kill myself at least once over the course of any relationship, if you’re lucky, I’ll succede. I will store up things you have done which hurt me and will throw them back in your face at the most inopportune moment. I will come out with the nastiest things imaginable when what I really mean is “hold me and protect me”. My mood can flip between euphoric and suicidal without warning, sometimes multiple times each day and my views of you and others will follow simiarly erratic trajectories. Oh, and just because I can say all this, don’t expect me to know how to do anything about it.
I am very in to cuddling and kissing but anything beyond that leaves me paralysed with fear and self loathing so don’t be expecting to score. I’m also still head over heels in love with my ex so don’t expect to be my special someone.
I’m going to be a student for at least the next three years so ideally I’m looking for someone able to support me financially. I have what used to be described as ‘rolls royce ideas on a push bike income’ except for my income would struggle to afford the rear wheel for a pushbike never mind the frame. My idea of fun involves either picking up paralytic drunks on a Friday night or hobbies more generally followed by those 50+.
On the plus side, I am a fairly good cook 🙂
I am expecting to be overwhelmed by numerous applications so the ultimate winner will be determined by a set of tasks of my choosing!
July 19, 2009
My mood’s a tiny bit better today. I’m still definitely on the down side but it’s livable with and the desire to stop everything has faded to a distant chatter rather than an all consuming shout. One of my problems is that as soon as I start to fall, I shy away from the world. I retreat to my room and my laptop, curl up under the duvet and cry, sometimes for days at a time. The rational part of my brain (there is one there honest!) knows this is about the worst thing I could do but at the moment I don’t have many other options.
The last time I went out was back at the beginning of May – in the intervening 2 months I basically haven’t seen anyone other than my parents. I thought I had friends in York but that’s *complicated* (to put it tactfully and besides they were mostly students so are now on holiday anyway). Yes, I see people at work but as I work at different companies, it’s never the same people and it’s only a few hours a week. Recently I’ve had my fortnightly beading class but that really is it. Reading that back, I’ve realised just how sad and pathetic my life has become.
The truth is, I meet people badly. I don’t have a clue how to function in any social situations if I were to know how to get into those social situations in the first place. And if i knew how, I still wouldn’t as I don’t have the confidence. Everyone judges and then they betray you anyway so there’s no point. The few friends I have are hours drives away and I don’t want to bother them because frankly I don’t think my company would be up to much at the moment. People deserve better than me ruining their time.
I don’t want sympathy, I write this so that people can have an indication of how much mental illness can destroy someones life. There’s a part of me that wishes people would reach out to help because I’m incapable of reaching out to them. But I don’t know what I want other than maybe someone to sit in the pub with, having a few drinks and a chat.
Thankfully there is a slight bright spot on the horizon. A friend I’ve known for nearly 20 years is getting married on Saturday 🙂 I know enough people going that I should be just about alright with it although a venue full of happy couples probably isn’t the best of situations for me. I’ve never been to a wedding before (at least not since I’m old enough to remember) and I’m freaking out that I don’t know the etiquette and the way things procede. I know when it starts, and where the wedding and reception are but that’s it. I can envision myself crying in the corner because I said something I regret or turned up too early or too late. Still, I have a very pretty dress to wear so that’s a point in my favour and a fantabulous new haircut.
But that’s one day. Other than that it will be back to a blank social calendar. Oh what fun! My local Mind group offers a “befriending service” – basically a volunteer who is happy to meet up with someone for a few hours each week for a chat and to offer emotional and social support. I’m tempted but that would involve admitting there’s a problem and I’m far too embarassed for that. It’s too much of a blow to my already basically non-existent self confidence to need to effectively rent a friend for a few hours because I’m unable to make any real ones for myself.
July 16, 2009
Actually just about everything has the capacity to make me angry and usually manages it at some point or another but this is one thing in particular. It’s this article from the BBC that goes down the whole anti-depressants are a bad idea story line. It’s not the content itself I want to rant about, I’ll leave that to others, instead it’s the basic assumption that medication isn’t the only option readily available and accessible through the NHS. Ok, the article isn’t as balatant as others I’ve read in pushing the idea of a fluffy, useful mental health service. My particular favourite was in one of these ‘Write to our Dr.’ type columns in some trashy womens magazines.
Question: I’ve been feeling a bit miserable on and off for the past year. What should I do?
Answer: It sounds like you could be suffering from depression. Go and see your GP and they’ll set you up with a course of counselling and maybe some therapy called CBT.
You’ve got to be joking. You’ll go see your GP, either they’ll tell you that you need to get out and do some more exercise, lose weight, stop smoking or any of the other behaviour based changes that can boost mood or more likely (at least in my experience) they’ll stick you on some crappy dose of dirt cheap anti-depressant – 10mg fluoxetine or similar – in the hope it will improve things via the placebo effect if nothing else. And people will take the pills because they won’t be offered that alternative, the therapy or the counselling that might really begin to address the underlying health concerns. This isn’t the GPs fault, it’s just the way the system is set up to function. Most of those people won’t come back, the “depression” will be a temporary blip and they will get through it but for those that it’s something more then years later, they’ll still be waiting, still unable to access any form of real support.
In all honesty, I hate the fact I’m dependant on my happy pills. I hate what happens when I forget to take them and the thought of being on them for ever more terrifies me. But don’t try and take them away from me, right or wrong, I need them to get me through the day. So go ahead and insult the meds, say they’re a bad idea but make damn sure you’ve got an accessible, functional alternative in place before you take them away.
July 15, 2009
I’m not sure whether to write this or not. Maybe if I continue in blissful denial then things will turn around. I don’t want to confess to this, I don’t want to feel like a failure. I can be strong, keep portraying that facade to the world and nobody will know any better right?
I’m balanced on the edge, looking down into that deep, black, bottomless pit again. And I don’t know if I care enough to try and stop me falling. To be honest I think it may be too late even if I was prepared to fight. It just seems to me that life is ultimately pointless. Yes, you can have some good times and they’re fab and fun but they don’t last. Then the rest of the time you’re left with either darkness or dusk. The emptiness of not being down as such just exisiting day to day with little to show for it and no sign of dawn ever coming round again. And the alternative? Let’s just not go there for now.
My life feels devoid of anything good going for it and my foothold on that edge is getting weaker all the time.
July 8, 2009
“You’re not the only person who has had bad things happen to them you know?”
“What do you mean they were the only good thing in your life? Are you trying to say we’re not a good thing?”
Thanks mum. You always know how to make me feel better *rolls eyes desparingly*.
July 1, 2009
I was first diagnosed with some sort of generic crazy back in 2006. Since then I’ve seen at least 5 doctors, 7 psychiatrists, 4 psychologists, a behavioural therapist and all manner of other shiny professionals I can’t think of right now (most for a maximum of half an hour each ever). I’ve taken 3 different antidepressants and one moodstabiliser, costing the NHS large sums of money in the process (and me £7.20 a month in prescription charges). I’ve visited A+E on a minimum of 4 occassions, had 3 ambulances called to me and spent 4 days on a ward. I’ve languished on a fair few waiting lists and seen 2 crisis teams. I’ve had all manner of diagnoses and cost my parents £500 in private assessments. And what has all this really achieved?
Since my first diagnosis I’ve buggered up my degree and lost the opportunity to get an incredibly well paid job that would have set me up for life. I’ve tried to kill myself twice and contemplated and planned it a million times more. I’ve alienated countless friends and scared away the love of my life. I’ve been effectively fired from one job and been barred from progressing any further in my hobby. My chosen future career could well be closed to me for good, I just don’t know.
And mentally I’m no further forward. Yes, I have an impressive sounding name that I can bandy around and blame certain behavioural traits on. I take the amusingly branded Tardcaps on a daily basis. But I’m still languishing at the bottom of those same waiting lists. I’m still waiting for some form of definitive help to clear up the quagmire in my mind that led me to seek help 3 years ago.
I hoped when I first sought that help that I was on the way to a brighter future, that my life would improve even just a little bit. I know I can’t say what would have happened had I never gone to the doctors and continued to struggle on alone as I had done in the past. I may have still been sitting here writing a list of similar problems and questioning why I didn’t ask for assistance years ago. But when I made that decision to reach out, I hoped that no matter what, I’d be able to look back and be proud that I made the right decision for me. And I just can’t do it.