Sunday Night

Please be aware this a personal piece and therefore some of the content may be triggering.

It’s Sunday night. Many people dread it as its the symbol that the working week is ahead. To me that’s not currently an issue but tonight my mood is extremely low. The suicidal thoughts are strong in my mind (I am safe). The voice is loud and I feel isolated. So I’m writing. If you’re reading this good luck as I’ve no idea where this may go. Also sorry as it may get self pitying.

The last few weeks have been hard. Many difficult things have happened and are ongoing. The future is uncertain. As it is for everyone I know. But this makes things hard with my desperate need for control. This makes my mental illness go wild. It sees it as an opportunity to take over even more of my life. It makes me isolate myself. It makes me hurt myself more. It makes me want to no longer exist. The symptoms of depression such as loss of appetite and concentration and difficulty sleeping are back. In my head it is an obvious depressive episode.

I’m also though pushing my way backwards in some ways. I’m trying hard to hide my emotions again which means turning them forever inwards. I’m pushing away the question of how I am and getting others to answer it and forget I never answered. I’m punishing myself in these ways. I’m going back into relationships that are unhealthy. I have no self respect. I have no self worth.

The voice is helping me along with all this. Its a constant torrent of how I should be dead and how much people hate me. It puts doubts in my mind and increases my paranoia. I know people are out to get me or pretending to like me. I understand. I’m unlikeable but they don’t want my death on them and that’s fair. They are lovely people who deserve better than that. They deserve better than me. I’m a burden to them but they are too polite to say it. I’m needy. I’m a pain. I’m selfish.

I’m currently convinced I’m going to be arrested. I’m scared about going outside. I’m forcing myself to do it but I’m terrified. I think Lorazepam is going to be my friend. The anxiety is high. I’m sure I’ve done something wrong and it will soon be discovered. I’m watching out on the local police force’s Facebook page for my picture to appear – without liking the page so they cant find me. Every siren makes my heart beat faster. I’m resorting to pulling out my eyebrows to help me cope with the anxiety.

Also I feel I’m not allowed to feel how I do. That people are trying to take the feelings away and rubbish them. To rubbish me for feeling them. I know they seem irrational. I’m not stupid. But I need to work through them myself to see it. I need to be allowed to feel if I can. I don’t want people to ask if it’s logical or question it. I do that myself. Twitter is my place that I allow myself to currently express myself and I really don’t want people pointing out it’s not logical. I just need to express it.

Physically my body feels like its giving up on me. I feel very unwell all the time. I’m waiting on hospital appointments for different things. I think the current count is five different hospital teams aside from the mental health team. I’m pushing my body all the time. I’m walking about 4k a day. I’m doing things around the house. All on little sleep and feeling pretty awful. I want to give up and stay in bed. It’s just not an option. Other forms of self care are falling by the wayside as well.

I’m also finding the thought of asking for help from my mental health team hard as well. I know I’m a drain on services. I’ve been made very aware of this lately with my care coordinator complaining about her high workload and not wanting me as part of that anymore. It doesn’t matter that a month ago I tried to end my life. Or that in September/October I was with the crisis team. Nope. I’m just a burden and what I feel doesn’t matter. And they’ve lied to me as well.

So there are my current thoughts and feelings. My rant. My Sunday night. Hope yours is better.

To stay in contact you can follow me on Twitter, Facebook or Instagram.

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