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If at first you don't succeed, try try try again.
Join Date: Jan 2008
Location: UK, Surrey
I am currently:  
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Wasn't entirely sure where to put this...
Hello RYL peeps, again.
So, I've been taking quite a long break from here, I doubt anyone really noticed, but yeah, suffice to say, I am back.
I can just about hear the disappointment lol.
A lot of things happened last year, some of which made me feel very uncomfortable with being on here, and very insecure about posting.
But, I am facing my fears and trying to reach out.
Some of you are on my Facebook, so already are aware of what's been happening for me, but most of you probably haven't a clue or have only heard rumours about me which are in all likelihood - false - which most rumours are.
I'll start from the beginning.
This is going to be LONG and maybe triggering in some places, I don't know, but yeah.
I celebrated the new year in 2015 under section in a psych ward - due to repeated and frankly, very lethal overdoses in the beginning of December 2014 which led to me being put under section after the third overdose attempt.
When I was taken off the section, I thought I was improving.
I was engaging in therapy, cooperating with my psychiatrist, taking my medications appropriately, and my mental health state seemed to be much more stable.
A few months after being released from hospital, I took a seriously bad turn for the worse.
Now, I've been with the mental health services since I was roughly 7 years old.
I've had too many times where I would be an extremely high risk to both myself and others.
Where my life would become beyond distressing and death seemed to be the only answer.
Where my multitude of mental health illnesses would go down hill.
& mid last year?
I can honestly say was the WORST time I've ever experienced with my mental health illnesses.
I have a variety of diagnoses, mental and physical, all of which are chronic, life long, and severely affect any quality of life for me.
I also struggle with psychotic symptoms, mainly hearing voices and delusions.
Yet another diagnosis, this time Psychosis, is being discussed amongst my team and about being diagnosed with it alongside my other oh so lovely labels.
Anyway.
Back to mid last year.
I would call what I went through an 'episode'.
I have quite a lot of these episodes, but nothing near as bad, severe, or long.
Mainly I call this episodes, because I can't remember much of those months, just bits and pieces, flashes of memories, I wasn't really "me" and the psychotic symptoms, especially the voices, took over most of the time.
In those 2-3 months, I took.....I don't even remember how many overdoses I took.
Too many that any one person should even have to.
The only reason I am alive today to talk about it is because each time I took these lethal and dangerously life threatening ODs, I would be sectioned by the police and I was said by professionals once at the hospital to have had no mental capacity due to the fact of my mental state and presentation of psychosis.
I must have been sectioned over 25 times within the space of 2-3 months
(I have records from that period of time when I was in and out of reality to actually confirm how many times it actually happened)
- something I am far from proud of admitting, and something I feel a lot of shame and embarrassment to say.
I remember blurs of it.
To be honest, what I do remember isn't pleasant.
Multiple police officers having to restrain me.
Handcuffed.
Leg restraints.
Body restraints.
Having to keep a hold of me despite being restrained at all times.
It was pretty traumatising.
Mostly because I can't always handle being touched, especially by men and especially when it's not initiated by me first.
So that would freak me out even more.
However, looking back, most of the police force actually began to feel like friends, they became to understand me more, and how my illnesses affected me, and when the voices got worse, what to do in advance to keep me as safe as they could.
I owe my life to them.
Repeatedly.
I remember having to have the life saving treatment antidote for the ODs, which, without having had that, I would be dead long ago, and I remember trying to rip my IVs out, and run away, but the police would (obviously) stop me and try to calm me down, ground me back to reality, try to convince me to not listen to the voices, comfort me, support me, everything, for hours upon hours.
They went above and beyond their job to save my life on dozens of occasions.
Now that I'm out of that majorly severe awful Hell of an episode, I can see that now, and I will be forever thankful and grateful for what they did for me.
They were more understanding, compassionate, loving, caring, kind and amazing more than my own mental health team - which shocks me.
So, last year was probably one of the worst years I've ever been through.
But I survived it.
I made it to 2016.
And, on a more positive note -
I haven't needed to be sectioned for just over four and a half months,
and my last major/severe/life threatening overdose was also just over four and a half months ago.
Now onto the reason why I am posting for support.
I say last 'major severe life threatening' overdose,
because I still take minor overdoses on a daily basis.
It's getting worse if I'm honest.
I take multiple very strong painkillers for my physical health illnesses that cause me chronic severe pain every single day.
Despite being prescribed the highest dose legally allowed, on my worst days, the pain cripples me.
(Which also affects my mental health -
being house/bed bound let's say ... 90% of the time,
the other 10% my mum who is my official carer has to help me and assist me in going anywhere in the car and with walking, even if it's 5 minutes away,
and basically -
unable to have any kind of life whatsoever,
You can imagine the affect that has on someone who is already very unwell mentally to begin with!)
However, my mental health illnesses make this very difficult and quite a complex situation.
You see,
I NEED painkillers every day for the pain...
((which leaves me house and bed bound, with a very rare good day where I am barely able to get out of my house
(which help by my mum who is my official carer also)
to go see my niece and nephew for at best, a few hours,
or having to go to appointments with my mum,
which then I struggle with massively and have to come home to bed straight away,
where I feel like these four walls are my prison. ))
My mental health illnesses however, lead me to do quite stupid things in the views of most people who don't really understand the reasons behind why I actually abuse and misuse and take small overdoses of my meds on a daily basis.
You see,
just because my psychotic symptoms and the voices and my other mental health problems, are not controlling me anymore,
doesn't mean they still don't rule and dictate my entire life.
To put it simply -
The voices tell me I HAVE to take x amount everyday.
They tell me I NEED to.
For the slow painful death I deserve.
The gradual damage it'll cause.
The pain it'll cause me.
The staggered accumulated effects which will lead to my death.
They say and do a lot of evil EVIL things.
They also show me horrifying distressing images of things happening to the people I love and care about
especially when I disobey them.
When I obey, they get quieter.
I get some peace.
Relief.
Even if only a little bit.
I take way too much of my meds for the above reasons mainly,
but also because it takes me away from reality, from my head, my mind,
that screams and shouts and defeans me ...
everysingleday.
My only escape, I guess.
Killing two birds with one stone -
I'm obeying the voices at their master plan to slowly and painfully kill me,
as well as escaping reality.
But I honestly am scared of myself, and the voices, and in general, my state of mind.
Of what I'm capable of doing.
Of them full stop.
I have a plan.
To end my life.
But I'm trying EVERYTHING before I feel I have to and need to carry this plan out.
I honestly believe and think I am a hopeless case, as has been said by professionals all my life.
There's no hope for me.
There never has been, never will be.
But here I am, trying, irregardless.
My team don't seem to care or want to bother with me anymore.
That's crystal clear.
I haven't seen my CPN in over 6 months, supposed to see him at least fortnightly.
He's actually completely useless, my mum agrees.
My psychiatrist sees me every three months.
Next appointment is late next month.
Last time, we discussed changing my meds yet again, but he said to wait until I see him again.
I would like to try a different type of meds,
mood stabilisers
or a different type of anti psychotics to the ones I am on now perhaps,
nearly all of my friends who struggle with similar symptoms like me are on that type of medication and they find them really helpful,
so I at least want to give them a chance,
exhaust all avenues.
I'm on the list to start seeing my therapist again, for a few months now, but still heard nothing back.
They've said I am still too high risk and too unstable to begin DBT, it may actually cause more harm than good,
and yet they can't put me in a therapeutic community or specialist inpatient which has been highly recommend,
due to lack of funding and beds available.
So, here I am, stuck.
Feeling completely Alone in this.
Struggling for my life, literally.
At a complete and utter loss of what to do anymore.
I've rambled quite a lot so I'll shut up now!
I'd be very grateful for any support, advice, even a hug would be nice.
If you read and bothered to even care, thank you.
I'll probably delete this as I know I am likely to not be wanted here anymore.
Anyway.
Take care guys.
A late Merry Christmas and New Year to you all.
xxx
Last edited by Aardbei : 07-01-2016 at 11:53 PM.
Reason: Removed name of medication next to OD reference
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