I’m NOT sorry to moan

Posted in BPD and me on June 19, 2013 by The Quiet Borderline

Sorry to moan but literally everything is a mess. A serious big mess. Like, couldn’t get much worse mess.

This med change has truly messed me up and it’s left me wondering if the last anti-depressant was actually doing something. Fine, I still had a bad appetite and was only sleeping a couple of hours but since coming off of it now for a few days, I’m a total wreck. Like, really depressed.I haven’t managed to eat or sleep whatsoever and I literally can not stop crying. I was never emotional like this. And I can still hardly speak and I’m really shut down like I have never been before. So I’m really confused as to whether to ask to go back on it and perhaps ask if they can just add something on top which could help in a sedating sense to help me sleep and for the anxiety and help with my appetite too maybe. I don’t know. In the end, as bad as I am feeling, I am still very aware of the changes that have happened within me and no doctor can say or see that, especially because I’m obviously once again with a different doctor in a different hospital. (That I haven’t met with yet too). But I admit that I am still very confused as to what would be classed as symptoms of the BPD vs the severe depression. Hence, why perhaps I feel suicidal because of the BPD rather than it being because of the low mood necessarily. See what I mean? It’s very confusing. But all I do know is that as soon as they reduced the Trazodone (anti-depressant) down quite a few days ago and stopped it completely a couple of days ago, yesterday and today has been a true nightmare and I really don’t think that it’s a coincidence.

But I’m terrified either way at what to do about it. I will speak tomorrow with the doctor if he appears or if I find HIM and what if he says we will not go back to the Trazodone but see if this anti-depressant works better and improves my sleep and appetite? (And all the rest of it). Then I’ve only just started it so we need to wait a few weeks to see if it helps? How can I go on another few weeks with it possibly not helping anything at all and then what? Go to try another one and then wait another few weeks for that? And then go back to Trazodone? I admit, things weren’t good on Trazodone by any means but at least I was managing to eat half a meal a day in the evening and a piece of fruit in the morning. Now, nothing. It’s just a big mess with that. They say you can survive on water for a good while, but that’s taking the biscuit to say for me to not eat for a few weeks possibly. Plus the constant migraine from crying uncontrollably and being frozen with depression.

We got called for occupational therapy this morning so as bad as I was feeling, the teacher was really nice and literally held my arm and took me to the room and said even if I sit there, it will do me good. So I did. And I didn’t resist. It was art therapy and I managed to do some colouring in like a little kid, but I know, that’s better than nothing. No complaining. Two other patients sat there, one with his jumper over his head laughing and screaming and the other one telling us that she was told by voices to jump in front of a train and stuff. Not particularly the subject I wish to talk about when the same thing happened to me, well, asides from the voices, but consisted of me hanging off a fence waiting for a train to come and being stopped. But I understand, that is sick people and I know that I am one of them. (And now I’ve just broken down completely because I’ve just seen the evening local news on TV and two teenagers did a double suicide last night by standing on train tracks and being hit literally two train stops away from where I was going to do it and its really shaken me up).

The teacher told us that its only him doing any activities in the ward due to other staff members either retiring or going to new jobs and that they have been unable to fill the job positions up as nobody has applied (that’s pretty straight up honesty isn’t it?!). So he said there is art therapy once a week for 30 minutes with him and that’s it for now! Excuse me?! I’ve been told that I’m being moved to a treatment ward and there is nothing happening in a treatment ward and in the assessment ward has at least two activities a day!! I’ve come here to basically either lay in bed all day feeling more depressed or sit in the day room watching the news or Jeremy Kyle and get more depressed! What the f*ck is this?! He admitted that its an awful situation too. They all do!

There are several more patients, it’s a big ward but not so many patients and oh my, this place is just not for me. Again, I am not judging the other patients on how sick they are and am not belittling them but they are REALLY out of it and sick. I know I’m not so damn normal but I still have my mind there right now as bad as I feel and that’s why it makes it even more difficult for me to be in a place like this because nobody else seems to be aware of the situation which I’ll speak about in the following paragraphs.

My dad and his wife came to visit me in this new hospital/ward this evening. This place is truly disgusting. I’ll say first of all that I feel extremely bad for the patients here in such situations and take nothing away from that, but I can simply not be in a ward like this. It’s dirty and smelly. The men are either aggressive or walk around naked and, well, one woman walks around screaming and getting put in isolation too. The cleaners come once in the mornings and at least this morning did a half-ass attempt at cleaning (picking up used cups and dirty tissues so it LOOKED clean) whereas in the other 2 hospitals I was in in the last month, things were kept at a much more decent level and there were cleaners in the evenings too which is totally needed. They blab on about “infection control” and its a f*cking pigsty. What a joke.

Two patients (women) have no control over their bladders. I hadn’t eaten all day because of my own problems having a lack of appetite and feeling nauseous, then I go to try and eat dinner at 5.30pm tonight and this woman sits next to me to eat too. I straight away smelt a stench of urine on her and it totally put me off of my food. I had eaten literally two small mouthfuls of mashed potato and that’s all I had managed to eat in three days. So I sat there heaving basically at the smell coming from her and saw there was no other place to move to sit and eat. Then she gets up and literally, urine is covered on the whole chair and is dripping off. Just as that happened, my parents walked in the ward to visit me and I called them over and just burst out crying saying how am I meant to eat (and all the rest of it) when I’m in a place like this, let alone all the other things that have been going on that I haven’t written about here and neither told my parents yet.

My step-mum asked the nurse nicely if we could go and sit in another room to eat my food because of the urine and he snapped and was so nasty and said ‘don’t just assume its urine, maybe she sat on water’. He literally walked away and didn’t even check the chair or dry the “water” on it. He just didn’t give a damn. Their attitudes are so disgusting. Well, this is the same patient that walked down the hallway last night with a wet backside and told the nurse in front of me that she wet herself again so I can only assume that number one: she smells of urine which is anyway stoping me from eating (OK, something I will try have to deal with) and two: if she is known to have poor bladder control and sits on a dry clean chair then gets up and it’s wet, where did the sodding “water” come from all of a sudden? So that went on and my dad asked to speak with the charge nurse and she was nasty and flippant too saying that we need to understand that people here too also have physical problems. (Really being bitchy making it seem like we are horrible disillusioned people). Well, did we doubt that or even slag it off, of course not! And I know nurse, thank you f*cking very much that I have not booked myself in to a hotel and that I need to be here (thank you for reminding me of that). More than anything, it was the first nurses problem when he just walked away from the soaking chair because he didn’t want to deal with it. So, that’s two mouthfuls of mashed potato in three days and no other food and I’m dehydrated because of my own fault because I’ve been frozen in bed with the water cooler the other side of the ward and haven’t been able to get up to look after myself. Help, anyone? Literally a whole day in bed asides from 30 mins of art therapy, and not once did anyone come to my room to see if I was OK or anything. I looked later and the blind was down on my door so literally nobody checked me all day. No speaking with the doctor, no showing me around, no asking if I want to go down to get some fresh air at the appointed times that they never told me about, nothing. What is this?

Then my parents asked to see my room because I had told them that it was dirty and smelly. The charge nurse hesitated at first and said they can’t go to see my room but we are no fools, if she escorts us, or at least my step-mum to the women’s section, then that’s totally allowed. Low and behold that wasn’t in my own f*cking distorted mind either. The mattress smells of puke and the bedding must have been a “bad batch of laundry” because it smells of urine. So we got apology after apology for that, like all the other stuff too. It’s just not acceptable. Don’t they realise that?. So my dad and his wife, both very nice people but obviously upset at the treatment of not just me but of other patients too, were very firm and told the nurse that its disgusting. We agreed that the humid weather is not helping either because the windows only open a little and the room I am in (and all of them) are very small in size so you don’t only feel claustrophobic, but they’re dirty, stuffy and humid too. Vile. Not a good mix.

The only words that came out of my mouth was ‘I can’t be here’ and the charge nurse said there is no way I will be allowed to transfer back to the hospital I was just in because its not in my catchment area. But that’s BS because they offered me to be moved to the treatment ward (when I was there) which I saw and was newer and clean and full of activities and therapies and I could see that the patients weren’t in these unfortunate situations but I asked if my local hospital would be the same and they said yea, so I said that’s its closer for my patents to visit so I’ll wait for a bed there. What a mistake that was.

So I’m stuck here for now. Obviously, I need to be in hospital so beggars can’t be choosers but I know that I’m right in saying that this is not a place in which I can get better. No therapies, filth and stench, no care, it’s just not going to happen.

My dad and his wife were really upset to leave me here and I was really broken down, like broken down on the floor… I know, not that far off of being in a state like these other patients. But it’s still not right that I’ve been told that I’ll get treatment here and it’s so so so far from that its unbelievable.

My dad is going to make some calls tomorrow and see what he can do. It was admitted by everyone (even the attitude filled charge nurse) that this is not a healthy place for me and its not right that I’m here with the kind of diagnoses that I have that even turns out they can’t offer short term support here for that too either! So I just hope I can get my ass out of here because honestly, this place can make me only worse.

I was going to laugh finishing off writing this, but that hasn’t happened. I’m just in such total shock and despair over the whole situation. It’s just driving me downwards in to the ground. Seriously.

Shut down

Posted in BPD and me on June 17, 2013 by The Quiet Borderline

I haven’t been able to speak until last night. I’ve so had enough its unbelievable. I haven’t managed to eat or do anything, just frozen in bed. Nobody asks me anything or talks to me because they think I’m just sleeping or having a nice time f*cking relaxing in bed all day. Yeah right.

My dad and his wife came to visit me after me putting them off and only seeing them once in two weeks. And today I felt at my worst and we sat there and I didn’t open my mouth up once. It’s not something I’ve decided to do, I just physically can’t bring myself to make a sound. Then my dad hugged me and I just broke down for an hour and couldn’t stop myself.

Whilst they were visiting, a bed became available in a treatment ward which I was waiting for (been in the assessment ward for 12 days) and is 5 minutes from my dad and his wife’s flat. It’s where I get my outpatient care from so even though they are not the same team, they still are on the same floor in the same building so I hope that communication will be better now.

Damn, that’s three different hospitals in one month.

So one of the nurses bought me in a taxi to my local hospital and I’ve been here a few hours.

Dare I say, the ward stinks and everyone stinks, my bed stinks, the food stinks, I’ve already seen two people urinate themselves in their clothes, there is dirty tissue and crap all over my bathroom, my bed smells of sick, and it generally is all just making me even more nauseous on top of me not eating and drinking and its all puke puke puke. Vile. The other two wards were newer and cleaner and I never complained about anything but this is just nasty. How am I meant to get better in a place like this?

And that’s it. I’ve been on the new anti-depressant for just 2 days and have no other meds asides from Diazepam when I need it and Zopiclone that doesn’t do anything so no eating, no sleeping, depressed like never before and it’s just all so awful I can’t put it in to words. And weeks to wait to see if this anti-depressant helps.

Like I say, things can’t get worse than this and then they do. How is that possible? Now all the anger and frustration I’ve had over the last week has just turned in to awful depression.

Truly awful

Posted in BPD and me on June 16, 2013 by The Quiet Borderline

Things are truly awful. I can’t even begin to explain.

Where do I even start? I guess I’ll just list things.

I was still smacking my head on the wall up until two days ago but stopped for now because I can really feel the damage I am doing and basically nobody is checking if my head is OK physically (I know it’s not mentally of course). If I feel around my forehead where I’ve been banging it, it’s jelly-like, or like its full of blood in between my skull and skin and because I was banging it so much, it’s filled up like a pressure balloon. And I vomited a couple of times after so that can’t be a good sign, can it? So that’s really not good. The staff aren’t aware how much I have been doing it as I’ve been doing it in the bathroom but nevertheless, they know enough as it is. Lucky those Pink Ibuprofen are sugar coated so don’t make me heave too much when I take them.

They started giving me Zopiclone again (f*cking bullcrap), this is after me telling them that I’ve been on 15mg per night of that for the last three years and I only can sleep three hours max on that dosage so they’re giving me 7.5mg so I’m sleeping an hour or two a night. It’s 5am now and I literally haven’t slept a wink. Some nights like these, I don’t even get a minutes sleep. The nurses are coming around checking rooms and they’re always in shock that I am still laying there wide awake the whole night just looking up at the ceiling or wall. The lack of sleep must be making things so much worse but they said I’ve tried all that they can give me so it can only be the case of having therapy and hoping for the new anti-depressant will help lift my mood and help me to sleep.

I’m so sensitive and pissed off with everything that I just can’t stand anything. The nurse just came in to do a check and said ‘good morning’. God, I’ve been up all night and he did most of the room checks, so I can not stand to hear ‘good morning’, good f*cking morning, right. Time to face another day of this. I have no words to describe how bad things are.

I feel physically sick because of the lack of sleep and don’t know whether I’m coming or going.

They’ve been decreasing the Trazodone (anti-depressant) and have switched me to Lofepramine (TCA anti-depressant) the other day. It’s an awful looking pile of sh*t looking pill, literally, this weird round-ish shaped brown pill. Unfortunately, the medication change has just triggered me off even worse and has made me feel even worse. No, I do not have hope that this pill will help for the depression. And can you really blame me after trying about 20 different meds over the last 3 years and NOTHING has worked. So once again, back to a new medication and once again I hear this bullsh*t ‘this is a really good medication’ from the doctor. F*ck, PLEASE stop saying that! Oh yea, and wait a least a few weeks before the medication kicks in. Yea, right. I’ll last till then too. The chances are truly stacked against me.

The psychiatrist said that he wants to augment that with something else too but he hasn’t decided which medication but said it’ll most likely be a small dosage of an anti-psychotic. He already listed some other meds to me like Lithium and I was like ‘I tried that’ ‘I tried that’ ‘I tried that’. So doesn’t look like this thought process by the doctor has even been taken in to account with the list of meds I have already tried which are listed in my file.

I’m hardly managing to eat. I have a pot of rice pudding and a tub of sugary crappy juice for lunch then pick at dinner, eating a couple of potatoes and a couple of mouthfuls of the main dish. That’s all. I’m so nauseous and weak from everything, I don’t know what to do. And this certainly doesn’t help matters.

I self-harmed last night. I seem to manage to get my hands on anything if I really want to. But it’s not clever and it’s not fun. It’s been stinging like a b*tch all night and I have gunk and blood all over my bed sheets. Just please don’t do it guys and girls. It’s really not worth it.

Asides from that, I just feel like I’ve totally given up. I don’t see anything in front of me asides from all of this awful suffering and self-destruction. I don’t see how I’ll be able to get out of this so-called short term crisis that’s been going on for a month now. Things have gotten so out of control. All I hear is talk about long term therapy and that’s all well and good, but excuse me, I’m not going to f*cking make it until then. There’s no point in talking about another 2-3 months time when I can (hopefully) start the ‘right’ therapy for me, if I can hardly make it through another day, so what’s the point of talking about that?

I’m agitated as hell and all I can do is go in between being in bed feeling absolutely miserable and then freezing up paralysed for hours unable to move and talk or drag myself in to the dayroom for a bit and sit staring at the sh*tty TV. No interest. Nothing.

I do not know what to do with myself and don’t see how I am meant to carry on.

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