Oh, The Agony.

Some of what I’m typing may come out a little incoherent. I’m currently laid in a&e.

The reason I’m in a&e is because I doubled up in pain in my abdomen on my right side. Usually the first thing that springs to mind is gallstones. Well, I’ve had my gallbladder removed several years ago, but they recently informed me that regardless of this I can still develop gallstones. I suspect that this may be the case.

Having been in here for 3 hours now though, I can’t help wondering how I’m even awake through the pain. Before this particular pain started, I took my oramorph, topiramate and a zopiclone. I should be sound asleep, dreaming dreams of randomness as god knows I did last night.

There is nothing more I can say to the world this morning as I wait, while I suck away on the gas and air like I was in labour (and believe me I would prefer that l were in labour) than take an easy day wherever you can, because between my mental health state, my usual chronic pain, and this horrific pain, rest is all that will be on the brain just as soon as it is allowed.

H x

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Exhausted!

I haven’t felt as if I have been able to write in a while. Things have been really chaotic for me. Last month I had a period of psychosis which was particularly unpleasant. Since then, I have been trying my hardest to get things back on track. I haven’t really known where to start, but I am really trying.

I have some fantastic support, I cannot deny that. And if it weren’t for that support, I may well not have survived this episode. I wish to god, that I could say that some of this support was from the relevant healthcare professionals.  I have decided today that I do no like the new psychiatrist. I think I have given him a fair chance. Yesterday he did nothing but patronise me. In fact, I would go so far as to say that he was the one acting like a BPD, not me.

I have actually had several members of staff that I have worked with in mental health recently, say to me that I do not have an ounce of borderline in me. I agree with this. I agree with this, because I have researched and researched borderline personality disorder and it symptoms over and over again. I also agree with this, because having researched it so much. I have come to realise that my mother more than likely has BPD, and me and her couldn’t be more different.

I have an appointment with a psychologist today, and I was planning on going in there, as I usually do with these appointments, with an open mind, and reserving judgement for as long as I can. Quite honestly, I don’t feel as if I can do that today. I’m too exhausted. I’m ill anyway, and quite honestly, I feel like I’m wasting my breath. I have reached the point where I feel that all I can do, is suffer and deal with it on my own as I have always had to.

I guess we will have to see, but I’m not holding high hopes for this appointment.

Anyway, I have to go for now, so until I feel I can write again.

H x

Prepare Yourself for Backlash When Going No Contact [Advice for Adult Children]

This post has given me an awful lot to think on. I’ve never denied that my parents were abusive. In fact, my mother still is. My father is mostly out of the picture, so he is no longer a worry, and certainly not a threat to me any longer. A truly thought provoking piece, by an outstanding writer!

The Invisible Scar

When the adult survivor of emotional child abuse decides to take a break (whether temporary or permanent) from the birth family, that decision may come to a shock to people in their social circles. From the outside of the family circle-—and even within it, at times—everything has looked perfect, tidy, and loving. To all who gaze at the birth family, the portrait of a good and loving family is all they see.

In that light, the decision to take a break may seem out of nowhere. However, that life-changing, painful decision has not come lightly. Many adult children have agonized over the decision, discussed it with mental health professionals, and also gone back to analyze all the years of small events and large ones leading to this drastic measure.

And when the adult survivor of emotional child abuse separates themselves from the birth family, they often upset the family’s self-image…

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Scary Steps, But Forward, Or Back?

Today, or rather yesterday, marks a new beginning for me. A rather scary new step has been taken. I accepted and started a new job. I fear this may be why I cannot sleep tonight, although I very much need to.

This job, while it will secure the roof over my head, it will make my health deteriorate, and I will not be able to make ends meet. Suddenly those episodes of paranoia where I believed the government were trying to kill me don’t seem so paranoid. I am determined to try and make it work somehow. I don’t know how, but it has to. As a victim of the dreadful bedroom tax, I do not have any choice. And the fact that a very old friend of mine stuck her neck out on the line to help me out and get me this job makes me all the more determined to make it work.

But while in one respect, a very big weight has lifted off of my shoulders, in another respect, another has taken it’s place. These are scary times we live in, and there is much to be afraid of. I know that somehow, I have no idea how, but somehow, it is time for me to focus my efforts on what I know I am good at, so that I may make positive life achievements through these, in hope that they will reflect positively on my life, so that things may get better for me, and I may struggle less, physically, mentally, and certainly financially.

I’m keeping this short and sweet as I need to sleep.

H x

August Mayhem

I have a lot of questions regarding some of the events of last month. I have been unable to really write due to being too ill, and too confused. Most, if not all of the questions cannot be answered by me, and I can honestly say that my local mental health team has a lot to answer for!

This is what I know.

I had 2 major psychotic episodes last month. One of them was a very public episode. While I have no idea of the full details of these episodes, I am aware of little snippets.

The first episode was a major paranoia episode. I know this because I wrote in a notebook exactly what was going through my head, so when I suddenly became aware that I had barricaded myself into my house, I at least knew why. The second, prior to it, I was tired. I hadn’t slept, and so on the Sunday morning I took a sleeping tablet. I woke after this at about lunch time, and I was fine, next thing I know, I woke in hospital and was told that I took a sleeping tablet overdose, but although I was aware of bits and pieces, I kept losing myself and I had NO control of what I was doing. This resulted in being picked up by the police twice, an attempt to walk to the nearest large bridge (which was 35 miles away) with no intention of jumping off, and god knows what else that I cannot remember.

My questions largely revolve around the second episode. The major question is that, if I was taken to see the psychiatrist, why was I allowed to be left on my own while having not snapped completely out of the episode.

I have to face the reality that these questions may never be answered, but my biggest hope is that finally, I will be taken more seriously by the mental health team in future because of this.

On a final note for this post, I know that my mental health is getting worse, and I know that there appears to be less and less time between each episode I have, and that scares me greatly.