I knew things wouldn’t stay good forever. I’ve spent the last few weeks reletavely free of depression, serious depression anyway. I don’t even know how to describe how I feel right now, resigned to defeat doesn’t seem to cut it. I’m just passing time, heading nowhere and putting off the inevitable. Maybe it’s because the uni year is ending soon and I have to come back home and parents are on at me to get a job. I hate feeling that pressure, the pressure of real life. It’s over a year since I managed to buy myself some time and became a mental health case. Since then I’ve had an excuse to avoid real life and responsibility. I know one day that I will have no more excuses and no more putting things off, I can’t take it I am just not cut out for living. The feeling of wanting to slip away is overpowering. I’m indulging my suicidal feelings by watching a documentary about people who jumped from the golden gate bridge that I have seen 3 times before. I wanted to go there and jump for long time but now I don’t have such grand plans.
I never told the doctors about the plans I have to overdose, I told them about how I wanted to jump from the bridge near my house and how I went there but there is a barrier now. I have the pills, I made the final preperations today. I don’t know if or when I’ll take them, the main thing holding me back up to now is that a person I know from the Internet who I care about a lot is coming up to the final exams before she graduates university and I can’t bring myself to cause her distress before she finishes. It sounds stupid now I have written it. I’m a complete fuck up at life in every possible way. I don’t want to be me any more, I want to be gone and forgotten. Nothing I do now can change things for the better. I’m too far gone and I’ve screwed things up too much. The mental health services have nothing they can do to make things better, crisis team can’t do anything, what can anyone possibly do? Nobody can turn the clock back or change my personality or the way my brain works.
I’m tired of living and wasting this life, I don’t deserve it and I don’t want it.
Still grinding away at my uni projects, got 1/3 handed in though and just 2 left to finish so hopefully I will be able to write a bit more in the not-to-distant future.
I went out with my flatmates and a few of their friends for one of their birthday on Friday night. We went to a couple of bars which were absolutely packed as I expected, but I think I managed ok. It’s far too loud for normal conversation anyway so it wasn’t too bad. I actually enjoyed myself and the girl whose birthday it was thanked me for coming out with them (she knows I find these things stressful) which was really nice of her.
Sorry I haven’t written in ages, I’ve been off uni and am now back after two weeks. I had/have got tons of work to do before the 7th of May so probably won’t be updating much between now and then.
I finally ditched the CMHT in Nottingham after seeing the 4th psychiatrist since I started there and am fully transferred over to Lincoln now. Got an appointment with a CPN in early May so I’m hoping something good comes of that. I’m glad to have crisis out of my hair for a while, they are pretty useless although I’m partly to blame since it takes me so long to be able to open up to someone and I can’t really explain the reality about my suicidal thoughts and feelings. The only person I think I managed to communicate them effectively to was the CBT woman at Nottingham who I won’t be able to see again 🙁
Oh well, my mood is better than before, I’m glad that foul venlafaxine has got out of my system, not sure what good the seroxat/paroxetine is doing, but I can detect the tell tale signs that I got from citalopram are present. Seeing the Lincoln psych tomorrow, hoping he gives me a months script this time so I don’t end up paying twice as much. I filled an HC1 form in for assistance with prescription charges for people with low income, even if they only give me a couple of quid off I’d be happy. Seems ridiculous that you can get them for free if you are unemployed and claiming JSA but have to pay full price if you are a student. I have barely £20 a week, half of JSA to live on.
My mood and general feelings have been all over the place this weekend. I finished venlafaxine/effexor for good on Wednesday night and I honestly felt much better to be off the damn stuff. On Friday and Saturday night though, I began to feel energised and restless but not in an entirely unpleasant way. I’m not used to having energy and wanting to leap out of my chair and up and down the stairs, I even went into town on a Saturday to buy a few things, something which I never normally do.
Being on such a high (225mg) dose of effexor wasn’t doing me much good, in my layman’s opinion. Last night I started the first of my 2 week supply of seroxat, but not without a struggle. I went to purchase them on Thursday from Boots, where I always go when I’m in Nottingham but even though the script was only for 2 weeks worth and they had to cut a blister pack up and repackage the pills for me, they somehow ended up giving me prozac instead. The pharmacist did not notice this either and signed off on it, leaving me to discover their mistake on Saturday morning. It’s a good job I checked and I don’t just unquestioningly swallow everything they hand over, being on 3 ADs in 2 weeks wouldn’t have been much fun, I imagine.
I went back and caused a minor panic there, the manager even came out and took me to one side to apologise and assured me they would do an investigation into how it happened. I hope no-one gets into trouble, after all I am ok.
Nothing to report about the new meds yet, I still feel reasonably ok for now but things still lurk in the back of my mind, as I fear they always will.
I don’t think I can deal with it, it’s not the acutely crushing lows, it’s how blandly hopeless my life has become. I live in the past, mourning lost opportunities and reliving over and over the pain of being cast out. Sometimes the realization that things I ruminate about are 5 or even 10 years past hits me like a hammer blow. Why can’t I move on? Why must I be trapped forever in this adolescent mindset of rejection and alienation? Everyone else has moved on, lived life, but I am still the same. I fear I always will be and this is no way to live. I don’t want to play out 40 years of disconsolate loserdom.
I dream of joyously taking my own life. I think it’s safe to say I have romanticised the idea of suicide; unfortunately I have nothing else to realisticly hope for but a sweet release from this anhedonia.
This one went ok, answered the usual questions yet again, haven’t had any particularly strong or vivid suicidal feelings this week so there was no time wasted with that. We agreed that I would switch to 75mg venlafaxine starting this weekend while I am off uni for Easter. Then next Saturday I will stop altogether and spend a few days med-free before starting on this particular guys shot at fixing me up (or least stopping me complaining): paroxeteine AKA Seroxat, Paxil.
Apparently it is effective for treating SA and depression, which sounds good in theory. I have heard horror stories about it’s withdrawals and increasing suicidal ideation (ha!) but I guess it’s worth a try. That image took way longer to make than it was worth, by the way.
Only one more day to go until I go home for 2 weeks for Easter. I have mixed feelings about it. It’s strange to think there is a part of me that would rather stay here than go home for the whole time. Back in September I never would have thought that would be the case. I’ve come to appreciate my little bit of independence and especially privacy here, not to mention the city centre is within walking distance and doesn’t require a 30 minute bus journey among chavs and criminals.
I’m in a fairly good mood today, managed to make dinner twice this week and have talked to my flatmates a bit. I also went to the post office twice to send some items I sold on eBay which required me to converse with the people at the counter so I think it’s been a reasonably successful week.