sorry for another thread i just can't face the other one right now.
I’m having extremely severe almost unrelenting body memories right now.
I’m tired of battling my mind. I'm tired of battling my life.Feeling very rough.
so so cold, i can't kick it. transfusion. feel like the new blood is tormenting me, punishing me for being so undeserving of its use...someone gave it thinking they were going to help someone important.
very lightheaded , even now. they fixed what they could, left the rest. I couldnt face the hospital last night so a make shift tourniquet did the job. knew it needed seeing to so gave in. Lost more blood when they took it off, which they promptly replaced.
glue, for the most part- some couldn't be fixed.
bone again in places. not a good look.
had so many things to say, still in my head but can't write them down
sorry, bit of a waste.
i don't know that i have anything helpful to say, but i'm thinking of you. lots. you are important, and deserving of help and support.
please keep fighting. and posting.
the time was i could be clever and witty about my problems. now i’m just dull and stupid.pathetic-really. the lure of knowing you're the constant outsider fades into the reality of alienating yourself from everyone and everything.hiding your problems for so long means that most people you know hardly know you at all.
a whirling vortex of pain doesn’t begin to describe it. i hate not being able to cope and going to ask for help is pretty much the final admission that i can’t. after everything you'd have thought i'd have been more resliant, not weaker.i should be.i've coped with so much worse before,i should be able to deal with all of this in a breeze. fact is, it just makes it all worse. i’m exhausted by the constant struggle. i have nothing left to put into the fight. at this point it’s medical attention or suicide and i figure i might as well try the medical attention while i wait at the bus stop. though help, like public transport, is much delayed. its like going to wait for the bus 2 years before its due to come- but with unbearable pain while you're waiting.
it's strange. there are so many little steps involved in preparing everything- especially when you don't want to ruin the couch. it used to be something i thought about, still do, but not.
it all happens on autopiolet. there's not any consionus decision making, just a series of events that take place with me somewhere in the vicinity. collecting together tools and first aid to 'get ready', nothing to do with me. im barely there.
physically, mentally, socially, psychologically- distraught. very messy at the moment. lost count of the amount of times i've passed out- pathetic isn't it. just now i can't even change the dressing without a wave of nausea and seiring lightheadedness. i can feel it penetrate my head as if in slow motion, and then, boom. out for the count, again.
another traumatic seizure, they always make me feel rough- but having been feeling so rough to begin with, i'm nothing short of crawling round my flat, knowing that if i stand i will end up on the floor within seconds. its so ridiculous.
constantly cold.despite having tried everything. to the point where my body was overheating, but i still felt frozen.
this highly functional exterior that seems to be nothing but compulsory at times like this, is, ironically, distructive.
from distraught anguish to a pleasant smile in less than a second; you can’t stay in the suffocating emptiness forever, though.
i think i've forgotten how to feel lonely. i used to experience terrible feelings of loneliness. But now, the loneliness is there, but locked up tight behind a door i can’t remember how to open. other feelings? i can flip between anguish and emptiness easily. both’ll kill you in the end. it all stays locked away.
thank you for all your kind words. they're all that keep me going
would hold off changing them if they weren't still bleeding/weeping through,heh. although i'll be honest i've just put a jumper on so i can ignore the fact it'll probably get infected if i leave it too long.i don't really care.
As for IP, they've just shut down the mental health department in my locality, so short of running up a private bill on credit..its not likely.
as for help- the hospital asked if i wanted them to ring the pcmht for me. they said it'd likely be more effective if i did.
Rang- though was pretty pointless; asked to speak to the on call dr. best they gave me was a social worker who said she'd see me next week.said she'd ring me with a time 'at some point'.
everything inside me is telling me to walk out. just pack a few sets of pants and walk. walk.train.bus.whatever-anything till all the money is gone. just to go, til everything is gone.
have managed to be walking around. enough to get myself a coffee anyhow.
3 more seizures today-almost makes me wish there was some route in epilepsy;alas, they're all trauma based. have had very little sleep for a good few days - unless you count passing out. everything aches. arm is splinted because of damage so thats rather limiting.
if im completely honest- i know i'm not holding on. so much despair
it envelopes me so quickly, so easily, so fully.
have hit such a deadness. desperation. i don't really know how to cope with myself.
my sweet becci...
i understand the flashbacks....body memories...extreme physical pain. im so sorry youre having to endure it.
please take care of that wound. PLEASE.
you have a PURPOSE in this world becci. you can teach people by your own experiences. you can HELP by your own experiences.
and MOST of all....you can SHOW people that someone who went through ACTUAL hell and is STILL going through it CAN survive.
you breathe hope for EVERYONE.
and you do so much for me darling.
please be as safe as you can. PLEASE.
i love you to pieces.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference.
Your body's been through enough. Try not to put it through more by hurting yourself any more.
You're vulnerable, fragile, on the edge.
((holds you gently))
today is another one of those days. where waking up is torture due to being slammed with anxiety before I even open my eyes, and it just seems to get worse from there. i’m rattled from the beginning with a whole day stretching out before me
how can it be that I can go around doing my best at “functioning” at what might appear a decent level and then have this desolation and whirlwind oscillations- and manifold plentiful consternations inside?
i am splintery, and confused
today theres been the making some distressing proposals. i don’t even feel in the mood. i’d rather let myself be. i am tired of hearing about the many things that should happen to me
sometimes the shame-spirals and sucking quicksand pits are visible on the outside, i assume, and certainly the blubbering is. but sometimes the wall drops between the roiling messiness and the appearance of me going about my day, the hiding wall.
the wall drops. pandemonium ensues. saying that, honestly there is pandemonium behind the wall screaming to get out, but all of that stays behind the scenes as much as possible; we try to keep it from seeping out. of course it does anyways obliquely but not gently.
what would it be like, to be free, untormented, unmolested, cherished? by others. by myself. maybe “cherished” is going too far. not gone at, not clawed at–those ideas seem a little less outlandish things to wish for
this timelessness of wounds makes them overwhelmingly difficult to live with
and it’s not that all the “functioning” is an act; it isn’t. i don’t think i really do acts. not my skill or desire. the walls are something else, not something i am in charge of, if at all. the “functioning” only happens because it’s not an act, because the obligations i need to fulfill are, by great fortune, things i care about, things that matter to me. the roiling pandemonium of a shame spiral is no more real than they are–more insistent perhaps, but not more real. not less real either though. it may be OF the past, but each time it happens it’s happening again; it’s present.
its all such a mess.
sometimes, enough really is enough.
I too wake up anxious most mornings/afternoons. Half the time i havent a clue what im anxious about.
I hate it.
I read a book a long time ago called Rolling Thunder by Doug Boyd (sp?). Its about this Native American indian and his way of life. I remember it changed my life at a really difficult time as it taught me how to cherish the little things in life. Heh i learned to be thankful for the little things; even the rain on a day i wanted to be outside as i knew it was cleansing the air and nourishing the earth.
Perhaps we forget that we can cherish even the smallest of things. Seems unless its earth shattering or groundbreaking or comes with the applause of the masses its not worth thinking about.
everything is such a nightmare.
i can't even muster the strength to get up and get food or drink. i'm only typing this because my laptop is next to my bed, where i've remained curled up for the entirety of the day. I forced myself to get up and pee purely because i didn't want to change the bed.
i do cherish small things. the rain. yesterday evening i managed to drag myself round the block hoping it'd stop me walking right away- just the breeze through the cold air, tumbling over the blades of grass, carrying the light drizzle by the urban orange lamps reflecting the night in the small puddles.my lovely pup, licking my face and staying by my side through all of this, she's kept me alive. only because of my responsibility towards her, do i linger over the end. without i know it wouldn't be a question.
my head is pounding with mess. another plan has been made. i know whats coming and i know its only a matter of time. to be honest i don't even know how long my beautiful pup will keep me going. through no fault of her own shes been dragged into my life, and i feel she'd be so much better off with someone else. to be honest i feel like she'd be better off spending years in a rescue centre than with me- which really pains me to say, because i love her so very dearly. i merely have nothing other than contempt for me. and ofcourse were i to remain alive, i'd selfishly covert her company...but maybe i need to safeguard her future and her stability. then nothing matters
im tempted to walk to a&e and ask for help.i know i'm hitting crisis.every bit of clambering out of this chasm i've tried with all of me to tackle over the last year is coming undone. ever so quickly.
i only don't go for fear of rejection. i know if i go and don't have any level of help- even if its just someone saying they'll get me a review or let me know whats happening with funding. or spending 5 minutes with me just so i feel safe for a short while. i know i'll just give up.
an ever so tempting prospect as it is, i know its something i 'shouldn't' be encouraging.
overwhelmed.unsafe.lost.hopeless
don't even begin to do justice
*snuggles up to you*
*gently strokes your hair to relax you*
*puts on soft music*
*holds you so tight*
*tries my best to keep you safe*
i love you to pieces my sweet becci.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A little Consideration, a little Thought for Others, makes all the difference.
thanks all- you really do give me strength- breath.
pretty **** day again, but nothing new there. food, eating , self care- again are unimportant. completely. its only now writing that ive noticed the neglect really.
tried ringing the pcmht again
to be honest i know i don't deserve help, support, care ; had so much of a fight to begin and keep reaching out. i don't think i can do that any more.
why should i want to be ok.untouched.unmarred.unhurt?
....except for the obvious- hurting ****ing hurts
but other than the obvious, why else? no else
.
the idea of giving up an early attachment to pain is, maybe, as frightening as it would be for anyone whose early attachment was to nurture and safety to give up the attachment to those things. sometimes the spaces/times of turning can be felt, dimly sensed when they’re happening, not only after, in retrospect, when we’re telling our stories of ourselves to ourselves.
sometimes we sense them and flinch, retreat, withdraw–we un-know them and they slide away, forgotten, until another time, if we’re lucky. there isn’t always another time.
i’ve had so many already.
when the heart tastes what it needs it won’t accept anything less.
it’s gotten another taste of something else it needs.
it’s too late to turn back.
i am afraid.
but the path beckons.
i know too, that once these things start they can’t be stopped.
ive gone farther than i care to say down that path already and it’s no place for a living feeling being
have tried to tel l- they wont give me the chance to. never get past reception. things re not great round here for mh just now. big closures. i'm the least of their problems
