Monthly Archives: November 2019

A Paradox

Please be aware some of the content may be triggering. Please take care.

A paradox: a person or thing that combines contradictory features or qualities.

I love the word paradox. I think it’s one of my favourites. I don’t know where I discovered it but it totally made sense to me straight away. I am a paradox a lot of the time. In my mental health, in the food I like, in my interests, in my personality. Most of the time I don’t mind this. I feel it makes me that little more interesting. I have found others who are a paradox too and they’re awesome, interesting people. But sometimes it means that in certain situations I’m not taken seriously.

I mentioned that I’m often a paradox with regards to my mental health. What I meant by this is that my behaviour is often contradictory to my thoughts and feelings. This can mean when I’m in distress I’m not taken as seriously. I can understand this to an extent but as most people with a mental illness are good actors anyway it should be thought about.

Take this morning. I’ve been actively thinking about suicide. I feel so low and useless. But with my care coordinator I laughed at a couple of things and had a sense of humour. This made it seem I was better than I was. It was contradictory, a paradox.

I also felt I was worthless. Then I had an email about helping review mental health factsheets and put myself forward. I feel I’m rubbish at what I do yet still I try to do more.

Being a paradox can be interesting but it can also be highly frustrating. Sometimes I want people to understand and see I’m not OK without me saying. This doesn’t happen as I can laugh and joke and still feel depressed. People don’t take my reactions to questions and comments saying I’m suicidal seriously. I’m dismissed by professionals who can’t see that I’m really struggling because my actions aren’t always in line with my feelings.

Also I can feel extremely suicidal to the point of making plans but still be doing things that suggest I’m still going to be around in time. The thing is this doesn’t mean my suicidal thoughts are any less serious. I still am desperate to die and can even make an attempt on my life despite future plans recently made. This is the reality of being a paradox.

I think there needs to be more awareness of paradoxes in mental health. It can leave people isolated when their actions go against what people expect from the mental illness. The truth is mental illness comes in many guises and this needs to be recognised more widely, especially with regards to those of us who are a paradox.

To comment further on this subject feel free to use the comments or Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

I Need It Out

Please be aware this post may contain content that is triggering. It includes talk of suicide and swearing. Please take care.

Currently listening to the voice being a constant negative monologue in my ear. It’s been pretty bad lately and the hours I’ve spent having to hear it are numerous. Today I just need it out and the thoughts that go along with it. It may not make much sense so apologies in advance.

(Italic = voice, bold = me)

You’re vile. Why would anyone want you?

I’m not. I don’t know.

You are vile. No one wants you. You’re a burden.

I know. I’m sorry.

You should die. Everyone wants you dead.

Leave me alone.

Why would anyone want you? You’re nothing.

Come on you should be dead. Why aren’t you dead?

But it’s not easy.

You should just do it. You’re weak. You’ve always been weak. That’s why no one likes you.

But they say they like me. They’re not liars.

They’re just being nice. They put up with you. They’re better than you. They have more worth than you. You’re nothing.

But…

You are nothing. You should be dead. Why can’t you just die? That’s what everyone wants. That’s what everyone needs.

Why?

Because you’re bad. You know you’re bad. You know how evil you are. You deserved everything that happened. You make people hurt you.

I know.

If you know why are you still here? Just do it. Just do it. Just do it.

I can’t.

For fucks sake just do it. You’re weak and pathetic. No one wants you. They all wish you died. They’re just too nice to say it. Just do it.

I can’t.

This is why people hate you. Can’t you see how much you annoy everyone. Why do you even open your mouth? No one wants to hear it. No one cares. You just annoy everyone. They hate you.

But I’m trying to make things better.

All you do is hurt everyone. You should die. Why don’t you just die?

I’m not talking to you anymore. I don’t need you.

You should be grateful for me. I tell you the truth. They want you dead but are too nice to tell you. Don’t talk anymore. They don’t need you, you’ll see. You’ll see how much better they are without you. Then you can do it knowing its the right thing. You’re weak. Too weak. Dying would be the best thing for you. You just get in the way. You’re worthless and a waste of space. You should just die. If you’re not going to talk to me I’ll keep telling you everything. You should just die though. You’re a fuck up. Why can’t you see it?!

That’s just an extract of what seems to be pretty constant to me. Replying isn’t easy. I don’t often know what to say to it. I feel powerless most of the time. Distractions have not been helping lately but I am aware they help a lot of people. This isn’t really an advice post. More a me getting it out and hoping to feel less alone post. The voice is isolating. It can be hard to fight. It can be hard to ignore. But I’m trying.

Please don’t feel alone and feel free to connect via the comments or on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

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Dear GP

There is an amazing account on Twitter called Dear GP where people write letters to their GP about their encounters with mental health professionals in the same way mental health professionals write letters about their patients to their GP. You cam visit the website here. I thought I would have my own go at this below after an encounter with a member of staff who is no longer involved with my care.

Dear GP

Today I met with care coordinator P. She was casually dressed in jeans and trainers. She seemed disorientated and unsure about what was happening. She did not know where she had to be and was indecisive of her next steps. She appeared very disorganised and had not booked a room or remembered that she was meant to be attending my psychiatrist appointment.

Before the psychiatrist appointment, P appeared to disappear and it soon became apparent she was making secretive actions with the psychiatrist. She made no eye contact when I entered the room and was distracted and on her phone throughout the appointment.

P made some abstract comments that only just related to the conversation between me and the psychiatrist. She was keen to please the psychiatrist and back up his treatment plan despite knowing the issues with this way forward, which had been discussed previously. P then showed that she had been trying to rid herself of responsibility and discharge herself from my care with no input from myself. This was overruled by the psychiatrist. She seemed disappointed in this course of action and did not make anymore conversation and avoided eye contact for the rest of the appointment.

At the end of the appointment, P decided to arrange another appointment but was inflexible in this leading to no date being set and no forward treatment plan being set.

I thank you for sending P to see me but I think that going forward there may be no working relationship unless her behaviour becomes more open.

Regards

Jo

To share your own experiences feel free to share in the comments or on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

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Alcohol And Me

This is a personal piece. Please be aware some of the content may be triggering.

Alcohol is something we hear a lot about. There are many arguments about whether it is a problem or just something to use to relax. Overall alcohol can be fine if used in moderation. The problems come when it becomes more than just the odd glass.

My relationship with alcohol has always been complicated. Most children don’t experience alcohol until later on in their teens. I first experienced alcohol at two years old. To me it was normal for me to be given a glass of wine when we met my parents friends for dinner which happened fairly often. I even began to acquire a taste for certain wines, leading to a melt down at three years old in M&S because they weren’t buying the wine I liked. I think the thinking behind giving me alcohol at a young age was to give me a healthy relationship with alcohol as I grew up. This didn’t completely work though I was less bothered about going out drinking as an early teenager as I already had access to alcohol at home. Why sit cold in a park when you can drink in your own home?

The real problems began when I went away to university. There was noone to monitor my drinking so I went all out. Why should I care about the effects? I didn’t like myself and this made me feel less anxious. It gave me confidence. I could forget the events of my past and approach guys. I was fun and attractive to them. What they probably saw though was a desperate girl throwing herself at them? A girl who didn’t care.

I’d often drink myself into dangerous situations. I’d end up with a strange guy somewhere I didn’t know. I’d walk around the town on my own, falling asleep in different places, waking up to continue my journey home, arriving not knowing how I’d got there or what had happened on the way. I’d give my card and pin number to friends loudly without worry about someone stealing my money (though as a student they’d have been disappointed). I didn’t care though. In my head I was being that fun friend. I was just living the crazy student life like everyone else. But I wasn’t.

There was another side to the drinking as well. As it got more out of control I’d become depressed after drinking. One little event on the way home would trigger me into sitting in the middle of the road waiting for a car to hit me. Or I’d try climbing out of a first floor window, having others pulling me back in. I’d down two litres of cider in an hour and pass out. I began drinking cans of cider on my own in my room on the nights we didn’t go out. I thought it was the perfect accompiament to essay writing.

Soon people started to worry and I was referred to the campus nurse who also happened to be a trained mental health nurse. My suicidal thoughts had peaked. I’d made threats to end my life. Things had deteriorated so much in three months. My mental health had been poor before I’d started to university but this was the biggest deterioration since my first suicide attempt at fifteen. I was told I needed to stop drinking. That alcohol was worsening my mental health. I was to go back in a month to review how things had gone.

I never kept that appointment. I tried stopping drinking but it didn’t make much difference so I didn’t see the point in continuing and I began drinking again. Depression and anxiety overtook me and I realised I couldn’t stay at university on my own anymore. I made my request to transfer to one nearer home. This didn’t reduce my drinking for the rest of the year and there was many more drinking escapades and me waking up in states that I never imagined I would.

Once I moved home I decided I needed to get a handle on my drinking. It helped I was so busy working and going to university that it didn’t leave much time for alcohol. I also didn’t have the same connections to go out drinking. This helped a lot. I reduced my drinking but didn’t stop at that point. This meant that drinking still had an impact on me though less severe. I’d be drinking at home and just getting depressed with everything. It was only after another suicide attempt that I decided no alcohol was the way to go for me.

No alcohol sounds simple. You surely just don’t drink. I wish I found it that easy. I found myself craving alcohol. If something bad happened I’d want to turn to alcohol. The thought of being drunk and away from the situation was still appealing. But I tried hard. I did slip up repeatedly but in the end I managed it. I’m currently eight years sober. It’s still a struggle. I still get the urge to drink and have to fight it.

I’m not saying alcohol is all bad but it can be hard when it overtakes your life. I’m not saying people shouldn’t drink but I just want people to be aware of why they drink and when it may be becoming a problem. If you need help with alcohol issues you can find information here.

If you wish to share your experiences feel free to use the comments or Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

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True Peer Support

I’ve recently started going to a DBT skills peer support group. I’ve only done about three sessions but already I’m seeing the effect of true peer support. And yes it is positive.

I’ve come across peer support before; both online and in real life, as they say. I’ve had mixed experiences. Some have been extremely positive where as others seemed to drag me further down into my suffering.

My first experience of peer support was on an online forum for people who self harm. At the time I had no diagnosis and no one in my everyday life knew what was happening. Reaching out on this forum felt positive. It felt like a place where people understood me. It also gave me advice on what to do next. It was great. I made some really good friends who I’ve since met and they are still in my life over ten years later. There is a group of us who quite often meet up. We’ve seen marriages and children born. Most of us have graduated through university. We are all a similar age so I think that is why we’ve clicked. We also talk about other things than our mental health but the option to talk about it is always there. This is all positive but there was a darker side to the forum. Things seemed to become competitive for some users. I felt myself being dragged downwards. People were comparing who had it worse or seemed to one up people. It started to become a toxic place for me. Therefore I removed myself from the forum. I still keep in contact with the friends I have made through it though and in that way I still have peer support.

Another place I did peer support was through a local charity. They offered a recovery course run by people with their own experience of mental illness. It was a useful place and much was discussed about mental health and what we all found useful or not. There was a sense of comaradery among us. We bonded and shared many laughs. Again I made friends who are still in my life now.

A major place for peer support that I have found is the Twitter mental health community. Everyone is so supportive of others and it is a great place to get information about many different aspects of mental health and mental illnesses. There can be trolls on Twitter so you have to be careful but the block button is there for a reason. I have made great connections with people on there and found it a great sounding board and a place I can ask questions when I’m unsure.

My latest foray into the world of peer support has been through my local Mind charity. I started by attending the young person’s group and although we don’t really discuss our mental illnesses it is nice to know we all understand when someone is having a tough time and we work together to make the time fun. It is also a chance to be creative and work as a team. I’ve also started attending the DBT peer support group recently, which I mentioned at the beginning. The people have been so lovely and supportive. I’m so grateful for them. I feel I’m making some great friends there.

Overall my experience of peer support has been positive. Of course, as with anything, there have been negative experiences but I believe it has a vital role in helping us learn about our mental health and mental illnesses. However it should not be used in place of professional support, as can be the case, but alongside it.

For more information on peer support you can look on the Mind website here.

If you have any experiences or questions about peer support feel free to share in the comments or on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

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Feeling Broken

This is a personal piece. Please be aware some of the content may be triggering.

I’m broken. Broken beyond repair. A failure. A burden. Useless. Worthless.

I’ve been trying to move forward. Make progress. I’m being proactive. I’m making plans. Signing myself up to things. Exercising. Taking my medication. But what’s the point when I just go backwards.

Tonight is a little paradoxical. I’m feeling like a failure not because I self harmed deeply but because to me it wasn’t “good enough”. I’m in pain and feeling not good enough. Therefore I’ve sunk further. All the thoughts of my inadequacy have come to the forefront. People, friends (though why they bother with me I do not know) tell me I’m not what I think but I can see the evidence. How can they not? Or are they just too kind to agree?

I’m nothing. A waste of space. Someone to be hurt. Someone with so little worth that it doesn’t matter what others do to me. I should just take it. Even hurt myself. That’s what life has told me.

Sometimes I forget these things. I feel good. Then I remember. That’s the hardest.

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