I’m a fucking idiot

**trigs for suicide and overdose stuff**

Whenever I’m having a hard time, it feels like my brain’s solution to make things better is to make everything worse…

It’s been like this for as long as I can remember – when I was at Primary school I remember (accidentally) banging my head and going to the dinner lady in tears, who sent me away because there was no mark…I then decided to bang my head repeatedly until it was bleeding, and go back and insist my head hurt.

When my parents used to yell about how lazy and disgusting I was, I would cut the word ‘ugly’ onto my arm so I could never forget what I was.

Any times I’m badly psychotic and having warped thoughts, or if we’ve just found out we have no money because I spent it all whilst manic, my brain leaps to suicide as a solution to all problems.

I am a fucking moron.

Yesterday was a really tough day – I mean I’m in a low episode, so of course every day’s a slog, but yesterday was really bad.

The icing on the cake was when our puppy flipped out in her crate after she’d been doing so well with crate training, and I fell off the deep end.

I became somewhat hysterical, I was full of panic and rage, and I lost touch with reality…my brain was also speeding at 100mph even though I’m nowhere near manic.

I ended up overdosing when my partner took our puppy to the toilet, and because I knew I didn’t have long I was chugging whatever I could…it was by no means a suicide attempt, more an ‘I need to cope somehow I feel absolutely terrible, quick overdose!’

My brain thought it would be a really good idea.

I didn’t take enough that we thought I needed hospital, but I’m annoyed because I haven’t had a substantial overdose in years…it’s something I’ve been trying so hard to avoid and I’ve done everything I can not to do it.

When I feel that intensely bad, and especially when I’ve lost touch with reality, I don’t have any coping mechanisms.

Listening to music, reading, walking, colouring and playing video games are all fine when I feel ‘pretty bad but not terrible’…but when I’m at my worst, they don’t touch the sides. In fact a lot of them make me feel angrier or lonelier.

And that’s when I struggle.

I struggle not to swallow pills, or self-harm, or break my wrist…and the worst thing is, if I fight off the urges and manage not to follow any of them, I know I’ll end up feeling suicidal and battling a suicide attempt instead. So I just don’t know what to do.

My damn brain 😦

First of all it fucks things up with these stupid mood swings, and then it fucks me up by insisting that in order to make this situation better, all I need to do is make it worse….



Ways I cope

With my last post being about self-harm, I thought I should talk about other ways I cope with shitty moods.

At some point most people will be advised by mental health professionals to do one / all of the following in order to cope with a variety of symptoms:

  • Colouring
  • Listen to music
  • Go for a walk
  • Socialise with friends
  • Exercise
  • Read
  • Do something crafty

While all those are nice ideas, professionals don’t seem to understand that when someone is feeling the worst they ever have…it’s impossible to do almost all of them, and the others are generally unhelpful. At least this is how it is for me.

The list of ‘ways to cope’ most social workers spew at me are helpful for when I’m not feeling that bad – probably a 3.5-4/10 on the mood scale – but any worse and they’re useless.

Today I wrote out lists of what activities might help me in various stages of ‘I feel like shit’

1st: I don’t feel too bad
~ colouring
~ reading
~ watch a movie
~ sit with a pet
~ eat junk food
~ watch my partner play a video game
~ bake
~ clean out a pet
~ draw
~ play a game

2nd = I feel Bad
~ blog
~ walk a dog
~ take a camera on a walk and snap photos of the world
~ listen to music
~ eat chocolate
~ look for random stuff on Pinterest

3rd =  I feel really bad
~ tickles (I love being tickled, it’s really calming for me, and I can also tickle myself)
~ read old blog posts
~ watch the fake jellyfish (see pic below)
~ listen to sad music
~ self-harm
~ see if Pinterest holds my interest

4th = This is the worst
~ self-harm
~ write out a list of my thoughts over and over and over (see pic below)
~ listen to sad music
~ just sit in the sensory corner and be


A little more about the sensory corner

This is a little corner of our little room where I have things to focus on / meddle with. When I’m at my worst I can’t concentrate on anything, so in this corner there’s a glitter lamp (like a lava lamp, but cheaper and filled with glitter!), one of those things you probably had as a kid where blobs run down a track, fake jellyfish that bob about in water, and a torch that projects dinosaurs onto the walls.

The torch is actually one of the most useful – not just because dinosaurs are cool, but because it provides something to fiddle with.

Most these products are targeted at very young children…but they can also work to soothe, distract and give me time to sort my head out. They’re great for focus. Sometimes they don’t work, sometimes they do. Worth a try.




Hello old friend

**self-harm triggers, nothing graphic but treat yourselves gently**

Another really shit day today.

Had a moment on a walk with our youngest dog where I just tilted my head back, looked through the trees at the blue sky, and just enjoyed it. Gog asked what I was doing, and I said “Right now I feel like I’m actually enjoying this, so I’m making sure to remember it because I know it won’t last”.

It didn’t last, but it was nice right then, right there.

I self-harmed for the first time in a long time today, the last time I self-harmed was probably over a year ago.

I first self-harmed when I was about nine years old, and between ten and twenty I self-harmed fairly regularly…from banging my head against walls to cutting myself to breaking bones, I used it as a coping mechanism. Self-harm has never been an addictive or worrying behaviour for me, rather it’s a tool that – if I need it – I will use.

After about twenty I just didn’t seem to do it as much, maybe because around that age I started dating Gog…he’s a legend 🙂

I’ve never been particularly worried about my self-harm, and neither has Gog. He was scared by it at first, but over the years we’ve come to accept it for what it is – it’s helped us through some very tricky times.

Today I was filled with anger, alongside the low mood. I was literally trembling with rage, and I was getting really cross at Gog.

I’d say “I can’t do this anymore, this isn’t a life!” To which he’d respond “I know, you’re right”, and then I’d yell “Then how can you make me live?! This is mental torture!”

I spent several hours trying to work through it or find solutions…I tried colouring, listening to loud music, walking a dog, writing down how I feel, sitting with my rabbit, watching my new sensory things (I’ll post about these later), blogging, eating…nothing was helping at all. The anger was building and so was the desperation.

So I self-harmed.

I didn’t think it would help, the idea of it wasn’t comforting…then I did it and I feel so, SO much calmer. You cannot understand how much better I feel 🙂

I was at rock bottom…now I am not craving suicide, and I’m not hating the world. Am I depressed still? Oh yeah, everything is a huge struggle. But I am here, blogging, and I’m not crying with misery anymore.

A lot of people can’t understand self-harm. I know a lot of people who hurt themselves describe it as ‘an addiction’ – something that gets worse and they need to do it more and more. As I said, it’s never been like that for me. I will use it every now and then, when I need to, but it’s a last resort and I don’t mind it at all.

I’ve had friends and professionals tell me not to do it…most don’t listen to my explanations (I had one social worker that did, and then agreed for me it could be a useful coping mechanism), in fact they usually say “think of yourself in the future, having to hide your arm forever because of scars!”

Well, I’ve been doing that since I was 14 anyway! I learned early on that self-harming came with repercussions, namely never being able to wear short sleeves around anybody, no matter how hot the weather is.

I’ve managed that for a dozen years now and it’s fine – annoying, yes, but I can live with it.

It also helps that Gog is someone I am 100% comfortable with, and who I can wear short sleeves around. It’s nice to wear short sleeves sometimes 😉


Why is loving someone you love so hard?

Something that I’m struggling with at the moment is showing those I *really* love (Gog) that I love them.

When I’m stable / happy I’m very loving…I don’t like saying “I love you” constantly, I try and save it for when I really really mean it (which is the complete opposite of Gog), but I’m hella affectionate. I like to be close, to cuddle, to play games together and really enjoy spending time with him.

And then there’s all the time I’m not stable, which is…well…all the time.

When I’m manic I’m very forgetful about being affectionate. There’s too much going on in my head and I can’t sit still long enough to hug anyone – I have to be on the go and thinking up new ideas all the time. If Gog tries to cuddle me I’m liable to squirm, shove him away or (depending on how irritable I am) fly into a rage.

Not good.

And then there’s when I’m in a depressive episode. I might find it easier to act loving towards him to begin with, but I also take everything out on him. I HATE this about me.

Whenever anything goes wrong I twist it and blame him, and if he does the slightest thing to annoy me I have a go at him…I don’t scream or yell, but I can be incredibly hurtful. I HATE IT.

As a depressive episode gets worse I find it harder and harder to communicate. Sometimes I will sit and stare at walls for hours, doing nothing, and when Gog tries to talk to me or involve me in something else I can’t. I’m literally stuck. I’m broken.

Usually when I’m low all my interactions with Gog are negative, even though I adore him. It’s not until he’s asleep or out on a dog walk that I really begin think about how much I love him, and how horrible I am to him, and then I sit in floods of tears and think how much I despise myself.

Other times I can’t talk, so am unable to tell him how grateful I am or how much I love him…it’s like as a teenager when I was really struggling and wouldn’t talk for days at a time. It was just too hard. It got to the point where teachers at school would find different ways to take the register or ask me questions without me answering verbally!

Sometimes when I’m struggling to talk I have things in my head that I really wish I could verbalise…things that could help lift my mood (eg. putting music on or cuddling our guinea pig) or that I would find helpful to talk about. But I can’t.

I just can’t speak. The words are locked inside and I can’t find a way to get them out…it’s like my body refuses to let me help itself.

We’ve tried ways to get around this.

We found a free programme online where you can type in a box and it will read the words aloud. Sometimes I’m able to write things in notebooks and have my partner read them. Sometimes I draw the words letter by letter in the air with my finger, or other times it’s like charades and I’ll act them out.

But most times I can’t communicate, I’m stuck. If I try reach for a notebook and pen, so I can write what I need, my body won’t co-operate. I physically can’t do it and we can’t find a way around it.

It feels stupid, it IS stupid, and I feel pathetic…but it still happens.

I have never loved anyone as much as I love my partner.

He is the most wonderful person you can imagine, and he tries so damn hard. I want to tell him how thankful I am that he loves me so much, and how lucky I am that he cares. I want to tell him I adore him and couldn’t live without him. I want to make him feel as important as he really is.

I want to do little things for him; cook him a meal, help out more around the house, but it’s so bloody hard when just dragging myself out of bed feels like climbing a mountain.

I need to do more.

Why is it so easy to be nasty to the people you love most?

I’ve never really known how to handle the rage or the hurt I feel in episodes. It always used to be long walks on my own or, more commonly, self-harm. I don’t fall back on that so much now, and I can’t go on long walks alone because it’s not safe…walking with someone else just isn’t the same, I end up talking to them and trying to be ‘normal’ instead of pondering.

Writing things out doesn’t help, doing something creative makes me feel worse, and reading / playing games doesn’t work either. When I’m feeling totally hateful I need something physical to get it out…punching walls, walking, banging my head against a wall.

I need to buy a punchbag…