Darkness Into Lightening

Hi everyone,

I know I’ve not posted in over a year.. I’m sorry. I had one of the most difficult years, in which I was in hospital more than I was out of it.. I was admitted a total of 5 times, 4 of which under a section 2, which is basically a hold for up to 28 days.. I have lots of posts to write about all this.. And I will do a proper update soon..

But this post is more about my sponsored walk..

Tomorrow I’m taking part in a walk to raise awareness for suicide and self harm. It’s a 5km walk/run, I’ll be walking, and it starts at 4am. It’s called darkness into dawn.

Anyway, just a quick hello really. I will post more again I promise.

Thank you for all those that have supported me! Stay strong everyone!


Reliant on services..?

So last week I had the worse session in therapy I’ve had in a very long time. I came home crying, and haven’t really been able to stop myself from self-destruction since. 

My theapist made a comment about how, because I’ve been in and out of mental health services for the past 6 years or so, I’ve become reliant on them. This made me feel like an attention seeker. Someone whose using up services when there’s people that need it more, that could benefit from it more than me. It’s made me feel selfish. But more importantly, it’s made me feel like I’ll never get better. Since Christmas time I’ve been getting worse.. My bulimia’s gotten bad again, and I’ve been self harming again.. Plus a lot of suicidal thoughts and stuff.. Well, that’s only been this past week but still. 

The therapy I’m getting at the moment is running out. I’ve got 3 more sessions left.. And then I’ll be discharged. From everyone. It’s ironic really, considering last year I decided I would really attempt on getting ‘better’. I quit college, because that’s what was adviced by the eating disorder service. I really wanted to get better. For a long time I thought if i got the right type of help, I’d be able to get myself out of this hole that I’ve dug myself into. Here in England, or at least where I am, you can only be under one service, which basically means you can only be treated for one issue. I’ve been with the eating disorder service for last few months, which means that I can’t talk to them about my self harm, BPD, or anything depression/anxiety related. I was told when I first saw them that if I did admit to re-lapsing with my self harm and stuff I’d become too high risk for them, and I’d be discharged.. This has already happened to be previously.. So I’ve not been telling them stuff.. until a few weeks ago, when my support worker saw me, and said she’d call and explain things.. Which was good in a way, because it meant at least they knew now.. But it’s led to this. This mess.

I’ve learned this week that i won’t get the help I need. Yes, maybe I am a bit ‘reliant’ on the support from people outside of my real life. Professionals who can talk me down from doing stuff to myself, help me find healthier ways on dealing with problems. But I don’t understand why, someone with a mental health probelm is made to feel like it’s they’re fault. For getting unwell, for the things they say, the things they do, and if and when they do get help, if that help doesn’t help it’s because we don’t try had enough, we like the attention.. If someone with a physical problem doesn’t react with the treat they’re receiving, they wouldn’t blame the person, they’d try and change the treatment. If they’ve got more than one issue, that sometimes interlink, they would try and treat them together. Not one problem at a time. 

Anyway, I’m rambling again. As usual really. I’m really struggling with dark thoughts. I’ll never get better. I’ll never feel happy. I’ll never be able to eat without feeling guilty, making myself sick after, or walking x amount to cancel out x amount of calories.. Just feel like it’s not worth it anymore. I’ve tried to ask for help, hell I’ve gotten help and it’s not worked. I’m struggling now, more than ever. 

Sometimes this sytem just doesn’t work. 

So, the week after the therapy session where I felt like I wanted to quit, last week Friday, I had therapy again.. And that time it was much much better. She understood more how much I haven’t been coping.. But now she’s off for 3 weeks. Great. 

So then I had my appointment with my GP on Thursday just gone at 11:40.. But was half hour late.. I understand that, but it just makes me panic more.  Baring in mind my support worker had written a letter to my GP saying she was ‘fearful of my life’ or something.. Anyway, I’d been self harming the evening before, and even a couple hours before. So my GP dressed it.. And sent me to a&e with a letter… She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want me going home feeling the way I was. She even spoke about me to other doctors in the surgery, how embarrassing. A&E did nothing as usual.. I now have no medication for tonight.. How can they repeatedly ignore me like this..? And the other services..? My therapist is on leave for 3 weeks.. The only ‘useful’ thing they suggested is that they would contact the service and see if someone would contact me to ‘check in’.. So fed up. I can’t cope with all these feelings.. 

I’m at a stage where I don’t know what todo with myself anymore. Like I feel like I’ve tried to ask for help.. Others have tried for me.. But somehow people don’t take me seriously. I hate the system. 

Stay strong all. 

Update, rambly post

Ok.. I need to vent somewhere.. And this seems to be the best safest place todo that.. I’ll warn you that it is very long.. And could be triggering..

So.. I guess I ought to do a bit of an update….
In December I was transferred back to the personality disorder service.. After being with the eating disorder people for almost 7months on the waiting list.. No individual therapy for that as was still number 9 on the waiting list.. Because of my self harm and suicidal thoughts they referred me back to the personality disorder service.. The personality disorder service said I wasn’t allowed to be with both services.. So the ED service said after therapy with the PD service I’d be referred back to them.

Anyway, to cut an extremely long story short.. About 3 weeks ago my friend took me to a&e after I stopped talking/checking my phone and was self harming.. Suicidal.. Blah.. I was referred back to the personality disorder service.

I week later, last week, I had my first meeting with.. My old therapist I had two years ago. I have very mixed feelings about having her again..

An argument within my family last weekend caused me to be very emotional the whole week, and I stopped eating completely, and self harming regularly.

Ok, that’s the history.. Kind of. I should also mention that after months of not trusting my new support worker.. I let her into my mad world the past few weeks.. She’s lovely and I get on with her well.. She’s been through a lot and I think because of that, and her general empathy it works.. I don’t have to explain things much because she understands.

Ok, so yesterday I was extremely nervous because I had to change doctor surgery’s. And I had a nurses appointment the next day.. So yesterday I spent most of it with my support worker and she even took me to the allotment she manages. Anyway, in the evening I was stressing about this nurses appointment and I didn’t sleep much.. I self harmed and stuff.. So I had to change my bedding.. Anyway, my support worker, knowing I was nervous came with me and waited in the waiting room while I had my appointment. I’m pretty sure I would have not gone otherwise. The nurse weighed me.. Which I hated because.. Well eating disorder is bad atm.. Not really eaten since Sunday.. Anyway long story short she saw I’d been self harming and cleaned it all for me..

Then two hours later I had my appointment with my therapist.. I like her because she gets that I can’t show my emotions mainly because I was taught not to by some teachers and other people in my life.. And everything I say I need to do carefully.. Which is why it takes me a while to say things… But apart from that it’s difficult.

I told her about the argument and she said that it sounded the same as two years ago.. Which in a way is true.. Some parts have happened before.. But just because it’s happened doesn’t make it any less painful.
She basically said that she won’t talk to my support worker (I gave her the therapists number because she wanted to talk to her.. I think she was worried and just wanted to let her know that..) That the number I gave her is only for me. That apparently I’m getting too attached to services. That cognitively I know what to say to make people worried..

I didn’t think I did. Not purposefully. Anyway, it’s made me question a lot about myself. Am I getting too attached.. Should I stop talking to people. I don’t want to be alone in this.. But being seen as an attention seeker is so much worse.

I told her about not eating.. She said people can survive over 3 months without eating.. That ‘it’s not like I’m 4 stone..’ I know she didn’t mean for it to come accords like it has done in my mind.. But now I’m feeling worse.. My brain is in a state.
It’s made me feel like I’m even fatter than I feel anyway.. That if I was 4 stone or something she might actually listen.. Like she doesn’t get that I have an eating disorder aswell..

We spoke about my family, and the guilt I had.. We talked about how I’ve tried a lot to make amends.. But that ultimately I can’t. And she kept asking me what’s next.. She was implying I moved back to Germany to live with my dad.. But I can’t do that.. Or stop trying to make amends..

See in my mind it makes me feel like.. ‘Well I might as well be better off dead..’ When she said what was next all I could think was to take myself from the situation..

I self harmed a lot after that session.. I even bought tablets to take.. But I knew, from experience, that after a few hours of taking them I’ll start and be sick.. But I haven’t had anything to be sick on.. As I haven’t eaten properly since Sunday.. So I know I should eat for that to work.. But I’m scarred that if I start eating I won’t stop.. So the fear of eating stopped me from taking an overdose.. How messed up is that..? My brain is still going at 100miles an hour.. I know that my support worker will have her phone on all weekend.. And she’s told me more than once to call her if I need to.. But I know I won’t.. Especially after what my therapist said.. I don’t want to be too attached.. I don’t want to be needy or attention seeking..

I don’t really know what todo. I want to quit therapy and get more help for my eating.. I know I need a lot more help.. Part of me feels like I shouldn’t be home.. Not in this state of minds.. But how could I ever say that to anyone..? My brain is in constant arguments and it’s taking over.

Well done if you’ve read all of this.. Thank you. Stay strong everyone. xxx

A little update and moan.

Hi all,

I’m really sorry for the lack of posts.. I’ve been really really struggling recently.. Just a pre warner this could be triggering..

My biggest news I guess is that I’ve moved.. Although it’s been almost 2 months now.
I’ve not been back at work.. But I’m still completing my course, thankfully my college, as well as work have been really supportive.

Anyway, to the nitty gritty stuff. This is mainly for my mental health blog.. So if you don’t want to read/ know about all of this then don’t read.. I won’t be offended.
Just over 3 weeks ago now I had group for my eating, I have it every Wednesday, and I wanted to tell them there how desperate things had gotten.. But I couldn’t. I left there very confused about my life and everything.
Anyway, I’d had enough and just wanted to end it really. I went to the train station and just wanted it all over.. By some miracle my friend called me about something completely unrelated and heard something wasn’t right.. And called the police.. Anyway long story short I was sectioned under 136 of the mental health act, and spent the night in the psychiatric hospital. I was discharged in the morning and have been with the home treatment team. 

This week I’ve also had a monitoring session with the woman I see at the eating disorder place. She did my blood pressure lots as it was high.. She gave me a big lecture about my electrolytes and how my habits are effecting my heart. She also weighed me.. Which is always my worst part.. And I’d lost weight.. Not that I was that surprised by that. Anyway, she told me that she was referring me back to an old service which I didn’t find very helpful last time. We’ve been discussing it for a couple of months.. But she said they’d all had a big meeting and said it was no longer negotiable.. She said I need more intense help.. Which is true, but I know this won’t help. I felt very upset about it as I felt like my opinions aren’t listened to anymore. Anyway, she said she would keep me updated with it. She also said I needed to have another blood test because she was worried about my heart and things..
Then on Friday I had a meeting with a social worker to help me with my money and rent arrears and stuff.. But at the end I still had to go to the housing office on my own.. Which I hate!! I’m so bad at all this formal documents.. Filling out forms and sounding professional stuff. I also had my blood test on Friday.. Which was super embarrassing as I had to have my arms out for them to see.. And my arms are a real state self harm wise.
Yesterday/Saturday I had home treatment team back and the basically told me that I was being referred back to a different service which will give me a care coordinator. I was with them about 7 months ago.. Basically I had a bad experience with them where my care co left for 4 months and on her return referred me to other services leaving me feeling lost and alone.

This has all made me feel very unsure about the help that I’m about to receive. From past experiences on both services which I’m being referred to.
Thoughts have, since finding all this out, become very bad again..

On another note, I would not be here if t weren’t for some of my amazing friends, and for that I will be eternally grateful.

Anyway, I’m thinking of all of you. And I’m sorry I’ve been so bad at this blog.

Sending all my love and strength.
❤️ xxxx

Just a lot of words

here I am, sitting alone, thinking. I recently red a book, which has given me a lot to think. It was a story about a girl with cancer. She fell in love with a boy who used to have cancer but was in long remission. To keep the story short he died and she didn’t.
It gave me a lot to think about. It reminded me of how short life really is. But more than that, everyone has, at some point in their lives struggled. Whether it be with a long standing illness, seeing someone go through an illness, family problems, money problems.. the list is endless. Needless to say I have had my fair (or unfair) share of experiences, heartaches and trouble, some of which I still struggling with to this day. I know many of us out there always hang on to the little bit of hope that we can. The hope that one day, this big scary world will give us some form of meaning. Some form of understanding. I am at the stage now however, where understanding is little. Meaning is just not there. I have fallen victim of what Londers call ‘The Rat Race’ every day seeming to be the same. Wake up, rush to get the bus, then the underground, when it is not striking, get into work and get changed.. then a good ten hours of work, followed by shower, train, bus and bed, just to awaken and have the same day again tomorrow. I am not someone who is scarred to admit that I suffer with mental health difficulties. Days for me at the moment are extremely hard. I struggle with what most people can manage without any hesitation. Facing another day for example. I fear mornings. Every morning a sense of doom lingers in my mind. I have to mantra every morning ‘Just another day, you can do it, just one day’ I count down the minutes until the next time I can go back to bed. Bed is where I feel safe. I can’t make any, or at least very few mistakes there.
Mistakes. This is a word that for me causes a lot of anxiety and stress. I have made a large amount of mistakes, which have caused, not only myself, but my whole family difficulties. I have done things which have effectively ended my relationship with my sibblings, and has changed the in entire dynamic of our family life. I know I can not undo the things that I have done, but boy if I could.. This, for me, makes any mistake that I make extremely difficult to deal with. Something so simple as dropping something like a cup of tea results in my mind playing havoc. ‘See, You can’t even do that right.. How are you going to do anything with your life..’. yes, most people would see this as a big overegageration, and maybe it is.. but I am not in control of what my mind comes up with. I am not afraid to admit that I make many mistakes throughout the day.. be it I forget my phone charger, I make a mistake at work, I forget to do something at work, I say something wrong to a friend.. Or worse of all, I realise that a friend is struggling and I can not do anything for them. Hearing the voice telling me that I am not good enough, that I will never be good enough, that I will always be a disappointment and that I might as well be dead is heart breaking.
Now, hearing it over and over every day is so soul destroying that it has caused me to act out in ways I m not proud of. I self harm, I stop eating, and when things get very bad I overdose. I feel like I do not deserve to be alive.
Reading books about people that suffer with physical problems brings up a lot of admiration to those people. Even if they are not based on a true story, I know that, somewhere out there, there is someone who is struggling with similar problems. In my experience, books on mental health are very few. People that have suffered in those ways are most likely just too afraid to write about it. I know, form experience the stigma that people face. ‘There are starving people in Africa and you are chosing not to eat.. There are people so much worse of than you.. Just get up and do some exercise, theres nothing like those endorphins.. have you looked into laughter classes..’ yes, all things that have been said to me, all as usless as telling a blind person to ‘just read’ or a wheelchair bound person to ‘Just get up’.. Telling someone with depression to ‘Just be happy..’ or something similar just DOESN’T WORK!! If you think waking up and wishing you were dead is nice or easy to get out of you are very much mistaken.
I am in any case struggling do not know where I am going with this piece of writing. People survive cancer, earthquakes, wars, and mental health difficulties. But why is it that people with cancer or diabetes or back problems or any other physical problem can speak openly about their difficulties and people with mental heal can’t…? you don’t look at a person with a broken leg and think ‘How did they do that.. Stupid person they should have known better and taken more care of themselves..’ So why should someone look at someone who has, like myself, scars on their arms, and think ‘that stupid person.. did they not know that it was wrong for them to do that.. they are so attention seeking.. they really should stop that..’ Another thing that puzzles me is the fact that people do not take mental health seriously in England. Whether that is because of the cuts across the NHS, or something I do not understand. I have been, on many an occasion sat in A&E waiting rooms after self harm, or feeling suicidal, made to wait for hours, to be seen and sent home, yet when someone does actually end their lives you hear things like ‘I wish they spoke more about their pain..’ Is a bit hypocritical.. when someone does speak and does not get heard.. Do you think they will continue o speak or, at some point, like I have give up on asking for help…
Isn’t it funny that you see so few adults with those kind of scares.. I wonder, is that because they were a happier generation, or did they just not make it to this day because their demons took over…? I am in fear of letting my demos take over.. I sit here and wonder.. ‘Is it all really worth it.. Will things ever get better..’ The thought that always haunts me is ‘When I die.. and everyone will eventually die.. will I be remembered…?’
The sun is setting, meaning another day over.. I wonder, do we waste our lives. Yes, famous people or royalty will always be remembered.. but the hom drum of other human lives that exist.. who will remember those..? I feel like I am a grenade, at some point I am going to explode and I want to minimize the causalities. I just want to stay away from people and read books and think and be by myself because I am just a grenade and I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore.

If you have read all of this.. Well done.. Thank you for reading. x


*I will warn those triggered to be careful as it has self harm content*
As I look into the blackness of my coffee, the tears start rolling. I am hugging unto my cup with dear life.. The warmth is the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. Why is this so hard…? When I look in the mirror I barely recognize the person staring back. Simple task seem impossible to manage today, things like showering.. It would involve me touching my ugly, fat disgusting body… I have college in less than 12 hours.. An assessment which I still have not written the order of work for. Then I have work on Tuesday.. Lots of questions will be asked.. am I ready for that..? Am I ready to be someone I’m not..? I can’t talk to my colleagues anymore, they have to work, as do I.. I must prove to everyone that I am the happy functional person that I so wish I could be.. The person that I once was.
However at the moment all those things seem so impossible. As I sit here on my bed listening to the rain and wind outside, I wonder can I really do all this..? No, no I really can’t. I’m just so pathetic. I get up and get the only things that have been keeping me alive, yet in their own way are so destructive I don’t know why I use them. My blade. To my left arm I take one. One cut swiftly follows the next and the next, nd the next,.. Until the sound of wind on my window stop me. The tears on my face have dried but new once now form on my arm. I look down on my right arm, look at my butterfly, and try read the four letters written across my wrist.. Hope.. But it’s simply not enough anymore.. When will this pain in my heart finally ease? I can’t hold on any longer…