Bad few days, or…

I feel like I’m crashing again… I don’t want to be crashing again… I want it to be just a few bad days. I want it to just be my shot of Abilify wearing off early, since it was the first one. I want to miraculously feel better after I get the next shot on Friday. Abilify is an antipsychotic that can be used as a mood stabilizer as well. Since the demons are more present in addition to my mood being crappy, I’m hoping that it’s just that the Abilify has worn off. I’m still on a small oral dose daily, until I get the next shot, which may be the only reason that I am even surviving at the moment.

The flashbacks and body memories are horrible right now. They are a daily thing; multiple times a day, sometimes multiple times an hour. They make it nearly impossible to speak, or even move, for a while. They make me tear up, and want to hide, curl up into a ball, and cry. But I can’t… I have to keep going, keep doing the things that are expected of me, keep going to appointments, keep going to PHP, prepare to start school again next week, deal with things that have been coming up, and appear to be okay to the people around me. At times, it’s too much to pretend to be okay. I just can’t do it. I’ll shut down.

The only place that is really safe to shut down, for me, is at PHP. I can’t shut down at home… mom doesn’t leave me alone long enough to just be by myself and hide in my room, on my bed, doing nothing. I can’t shut down around my friends… we usually get together at public places with other people around that I’m not as familiar with and don’t want to see me in “shut down” mode. Plus, my friends are more likely to force me into a car and drive me to the hospital if they see me in complete shut down. But at PHP, I can literally sit there the entire 5 hours and not say a word, staring at the table, barely moving or responding to anything… the therapist there doesn’t really say anything or push me to participate. At the end of the first 3 groups, he does ask the same question every day… in the same words, every day. “Is anybody having any suicidal or homicidal thoughts that they feel they need to speak with someone about before they leave to stay safe?” That’s the only time out of the entire day that he really requires a response. And if that response isn’t satisfactory, in one way or another, he’s gonna will grab that person before the end of the day for a private conversation. Mostly to go over a crisis plan and check if they feel they can be safe going home having a crisis plan or if they need to check into the hospital.

The therapist has said before that he’s not going to force someone to go inpatient. Strongly suggest, probably… spend as much time as needed to get someone to a point where all parties involved are comfortable with the client going home, yep… but *he* will not take the decision of going to the inpatient hospital away from the client. He has stated that he won’t take that power away from anyone. There may be an unspoken statement in there that he may have to defer to someone higher than him, who would make that decision for the client, if safety cannot be contracted and the client will not agree to the hospital. Obviously, there are legal requirements in the US and in my state that if someone is a danger to themselves or others, certain professionals are required to get that person treatment, or at least get them assessed for treatment by a psychiatrist or mental health police officer. Here, at least, mental health officers are able to put someone under orders of emergency commitment (POEC). I’ve been in the hospital under a police order 3 times, but signed the papers to stay when the orders ended each time.

Right now, it’s 12:30 am, and I am out on the front porch, listening to a podcast and writing this blog. I’m kind of just typing… not really even paying much attention to what is going from my brain out into the computer. I don’t want to go to bed yet… I’m not really tired. I want to wait until I am exhausted, so that I will just crash and hopefully just sleep all the way to morning, without waking up from any nightmares. Which may mean that I don’t go to bed for a few more hours… less hours of sleep but uninterrupted is better than waking up in terror multiple times. So now, what to do until then? I can’t just sit outside forever… it’s misting and I’m out here on my Chromebook, which probably isn’t the best idea. It’s also a little chilly out; it’s in the 60s (farhenheit). Not too cold, just chilly. I’m wearing socks and a hoodie with my PJs, just the breeze gets me a bit.

I don’t want to go to PHP tomorrow. I want to stay home and lie in bed all day. I had to miss today, because I had two doctor’s appointments, and I have to miss Friday for the same reason. With my insurance, I can only miss 5 groups a week, unless I have notes from the doctor. I have notes from both doctors today, and plan on getting notes for Friday also, but I don’t want to risk anything that would make my insurance discharge me prematurely. Friday, I see my psychiatrist, after seeing the psychiatrist at PHP on Thursday… but they can’t do the shot at PHP, so I have to go to my doctor. I’m kind of think I’m getting burnt out on psych treatment, but I’m scared if I give up on it, that I’ll just end up right where I was, in the depths of depression, having flashbacks and trauma lead me to the brink of suicide and without having some sort of more intense treatment than just my psychiatrist and my regular, once a week therapist, I wouldn’t have anything to prevent me from doing it or get in the way of completing if I went through with it. The only reason the second attempt wasn’t successful was because the therapist at PHP called the police for a welfare check. I was supposed to be there, and I didn’t answer the phone when he called. Knowing that I was suicidal, the clinic requires certain action, and that is what he did.

Now, I’ll admit, I’m having suicidal thoughts now, and I kind of always have a plan of how I would do it in the back of my mind that comes forefront when the thoughts pick back up. The question is always whether there is intent or not. That is where the PHP therapist and I make the distinction of safety. He’s okay with me having thoughts, and he’s relatively okay with me having a plan, and even a small amount of intent. As long as I can contract for safety for that night, until the next morning or until the next day of group, he’s okay with me going home. Okay and comfortable may be two different things, however. He lets me leave, but I don’t know what is going through his head, if he’s worried about whether I’ll be there the next day, if he made the right decision, if he should have trusted me again. Twice now, he’s trusted me, and I betrayed that trust and attempted suicide instead of going to group. I could have gone to group; I could have called the PHP clinic, or my individual therapist or psychiatrist, or even simply answered the phone when he called me; I could have gone to the emergency room and told them what I was planning or just gone to the psych hospital and walked in for an assessment; I could have done a lot of things. Instead, I attempted suicide twice, when he trusted my word that I was okay to go home and would be back the next day. The first time, I didn’t know I was going to attempt, but I knew it was only going to take a feather to knock me over the edge. The second time, I had been planning it for days, so when he outright asked me if I was safe to leave or if I needed to go to the hospital, I lied to his face. Straight up lied. Monday, when he asked his safety question at the end of the third group, I admitted to active thoughts with a plan, and he asked if I was going to attempt that night or this morning. I said no, and he asked “what about Friday?” because I had already told him I had to be out Friday too, for appointments. I said no again, and he kind of laughed and said that he was making jokes, with the Friday comment, although I kind of think he really wasn’t joking, since I had already told him that I had planned the December attempt out several days ahead and didn’t tell anyone and lied to him about it. It makes me think that every time I admit to having suicidal thoughts, it worries him. And probably the whole staff at the clinic.

Both attempts scared the staff at the clinic, my psychiatrist and individual therapist. Obviously, no mental health professional wants to lose a client. I can’t even imagine what that would be like on them. Family has one relationship with the person, friends have another type of relationship, but the relationship with the professionals that have been trying to help is a different kind. All to often, they know more about what has been going on with the person than friends and family do. There are things in my life that I’ve talked about with my psychiatrist and therapist and the people at PHP that I haven’t been able to say to most of my friends and definitely can’t say to my family. Sometimes, it feels like the professionals know me better than my friends or family do… that sounds weird, probably. Some things are nearly impossible to talk about. At least, it seems that way. It takes a lot of building up courage to get the words to come out of my mouth and then as soon as they do, I wish I could take them back immediately… even though, most of the time, everyone responds well to whatever I tell them that I’ve been afraid to say, thinking that I’ll be judged. Family and friends, when someone dies, will obviously have to grieve that loss. Most people don’t even consider that the mental health professionals, who have been trying to help someone, will also have to deal with the loss of the patient that commits suicide. There are bound to be a lot of complicated thoughts and feelings that would come up for them. What could they have done differently? Did they miss something? Could they have done more? Inadequecy, fear, grief, guilt, but in the midst of all of this, they have other patients that they have to treat, and they have to keep working.

But, speaking from my own experience, that doesn’t even cross my mind when I’m in that dark place. Friends, family… no one else really matters to me. Nothing matters except ending the pain. Escaping from this endless torture… If I can still think about how it affects other people, and use that as a deterrent, then I’m less likely to act on the thoughts. My friends, and how my death would affect them, has always been the one thing that has kept me going… it is when that doesn’t matter anymore that I am in the most danger. When ending the pain and torture is more important to me than any other thing… those are the times I have tried to die.

Well, I think I have rambled long enough. It is 2 am, and this blog has become a massive, jumbled mess of thoughts… if you made it this far, congratulations and thank you! I hope to see you again soon!

Rough Day…

Today has been rough… just an all around hard day. I’ve had several flashbacks that kind of threw me for a loop and brought up the traumatic loss that I’ve been dealing with the most lately… and that led to the two recent suicide attempts. The memories of this loss are what really brought me to the point of wanting to die so much that I actually attempted to do just that. Then, in the last group at PHP, the nurse was discussing the difference between sadness, grieving, and depression. We only go to sadness and grieving today before we ran out of time, so we’ll get to depression tomorrow. But basically because of the topic, I left group in a not so good headspace. By an hour later, I was having serious thoughts of hurting myself.

Yesterday, I gave my self harm tools to the therapist at PHP to dispose of for me, so I don’t have my preferred method without going to the store. There are other methods, though, that would work, but I’m trying to not do anything. I haven’t self harmed since December 11th. I want to keep it that way. The thoughts I was having earlier, though, were worse than just self harm. They were scary. I was actually tempted to call the PHP therapist, but I hesitated too long and now they are closed. I haven’t gone home yet, however.

I’m meeting with my sponsor tonight. In about an hour. I “can” talk to him, but I just recently switched sponsors, because I want to try working the steps through Narcotics Anonymous instead of Alcoholics Anonymous, and I don’t want to scare or worry the new one to the point that he calls someone. He works in mental health, so he knows a little more, but he also has a little more responsibility than the normal person, if someone says that they are going to hurt themselves. I’m worried if I bring up the thoughts I had, he’ll move into work mode or something…

I’m also not sure how much I’m going to say tomorrow during check in… these thoughts were strong, but they are fading now. I don’t know what will happen with them when I leave where I am, right now, and head home… or when I get home. That kind of worries me a bit, actually. I don’t know how strong I can be when I’m on my own. I know I’m not going to drink or use anything, but self harming is a distinct possibility tonight. I hate to say that… but that is honestly how it feels. I am going to do my best to not do anything. I am going to try very hard. I just have to make it through the night. That’s it.

Typing without really thinking… hope it makes sense.

This is weird. I’m not used to this. It’s foreign.

There’s really nothing wrong… Every now and then, like once or twice a day, I’ll still have a flashback or body memory that will make me cry for a minute. But that is it. My mood isn’t horrible. The demons are there, but not awful. I have been having a few manic symptoms, but I’ve been responsible and have my mother holding on to the majority of my money for now. I’m still sober at the moment; I am having strong cravings but I have managed to not drink.

I’ve gained more insight into why I’ve been so suicidal for the last several months. And why the events of late led to me trying to take my own life, twice. I hope to eventually be able to post a blog about that, but I don’t think right now is that time. I’ve been working hard in therapy, PHP and with my individual therapist and psychiatrist. It’s draining. I often leave feeling raw and tired. I know, when I feel that way, the best thing for me is to not go home, however. I have tools that I could self harm with at home, and in that state, I am more likely to self harm, which I am actively trying to not do. I am counting the last suicide attempt as self harm, but I have not done anything to hurt myself since then, aside from some minor picking. (I have dermotillomania, which is a psychological condition that manifests as repetitive, compulsive skin picking. I also have trichotillomania, which is a mental disorder that involves recurrent, irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows or other areas of your body, despite trying to stop. (Both descriptions were pulled from Google’s front page.) So I have a tendency to pick at things like scabs and such.) So, I haven’t self harmed since the 11th of December, the day that I attempted last. Well, that turned into a tangent real quick.

One, or actually two, things I wanted to talk about in this blog was a couple questions the PHP therapist brought up Thursday that really made me think.

Question 1: How will you know you are okay?

The answer I gave in group was when I’m not having flashbacks and body memories every day. When they are only happening once or twice a month or so… I feel like I am underestimating what “okay” can be, though. “Okay” could be no flashbacks/body memories, could be that I don’t have the trauma of my past creeping in and making me want to hurt myself in a myriad of ways, could be not feeling depression at all and feeling happiness, joy, optimism and excitement everyday. That, however, seems unreachable. It seems impossible. Even though my mood is better and I’m not really depressed like I was, I still have crying spells every day or every other day. I still think about what it would be like to not be here, on occasion. Thoughts of suicide creep in, stick around for a bit, and then leave, on a daily basis. There is no real want to die or be dead anymore. That is gone. At least for now. But my brain is not normal. My brain may never be normal. My brain may never be able to get rid of the obsession with death and dying. I may always have these thoughts. Because of the things that have happened to me… because of the things that come up from years ago that lead me to attempt suicide twice in the course of three months. For some reason, I feel like I will be okay when my depression is manageable, when the flashbacks and body memories are farther apart, when I’m able to simply stay out of the hospital and finish PHP and move into IOP (intensive outpatient), and when it’s not so hard to get out of the house and face people daily. To a mental health professional, that wouldn’t be considered okay. That would still be “having symptoms.” But to me, that is so much better than a month ago and even now. Why don’t I want something more than the bare minimum? Why must okay still be just okay instead of good or great? Is it that I think that is all I deserve, all I’m worth? This may require coming back to, later…

Question 2: Ask yourself… why are you feeling the way you are feeling?

Basically, when you are having an uncomfortable emotion, whatever it is, as why. What in you life, past or present, is causing you to feel this particular emotion at this particular time? There is always a reason we feel the way we do about certain things, and why different people feel differently about the same situation. Example… you and I are in line at the grocery store. The customer in front of us is upset about something and starts screaming, like all out screaming, at the cashier. Your reaction: look around for another employee or manager and make sure that someone is coming to help the cashier. My reaction: step back, shrink down a little, and become silent and not move. You became the protector, and I reacted like the victim. The difference between us… you never experienced any traumatic events in you life and I did. The screaming was not a trigger for you, like it was for me. That’s just an example, and a simple on at that. Usually, it’s more complex than that. Feelings are very complex. There are many reasons we feel the way we do, and often, we don’t take a step back to ask ourselves “why am I feeling this way?” “What in my past is contributing to me feeling this way?” Take the time, step back, and ask the question. Explore your feelings and emotions. Doing this will help you (and me) know and see more clearly what we need to work on with our treatment team or while we are journaling.

I hope these questions make you think, like they did me. I hope you take the time to explore some of these ideas yourself. And I hope to see you again, soon.

Recent Events…

I ended up in the psychiatric hospital again, on the 12th of December. I want to post about it, but I don’t want to start crying… mostly because I’m in public right now… I knew if I tried to write this blog at home, it would never get done. I’ve been trying to write it for a week now, and it just hasn’t happened.

It started with another suicide attempt, on the 11th. I overdosed again. This time, I did not call the ambulance, and I was not planning to call one. I waited for mom to leave for work, took the pills, and just sat there. The therapist at PHP called, because I hadn’t showed up, and I didn’t answer the phone. A little later, he called again, saying he was going to call my mom and then 911 for a welfare check. A few minutes later, I stepped outside for a cigarette, and there was already a police officer in front of my house. He had to have called them before he called me; there is no possible way that officer got there that fast. The officer came up to the porch while I was smoking a cigarette and just kind of asked some normal questions, stalling. He was waiting for the mental health officer to arrive. When she got there is when it all came out… she came up and introduced herself, asked a few questions, and then asked if I was having thoughts of wanting to hurt myself. I just nodded. She then asked if I’d already done anything. I nodded again. I was already falling asleep on the front porch in front of them, I was pretty sure they were going to take me to the ER anyway, even if I lied. So why lie? She asked what I had done, I just handed her the empty bottle, and she asked if it had been full. I nodded one more time. She actually thanked me for being honest with them, while the male officer radioed for an ambulance. I was in the ER for about 15 hours, and then an officer came to take me to the psych hospital. He transported me in his police car, in the back seat with handcuffs. First time I’ve ever been in the back seat of a cop car with handcuffs on… that was not fun or comfortable AT ALL…

I was in the hospital until the 19th, and then started PHP again on the 23rd. I took the day off for Christmas eve to go be with my Dad’s family and they were closed Christmas day, which I spent with my mom and a friend of mine. I did have PHP Thursday and Friday though. Next week, PHP is only closed Wednesday for New Year’s Day. I plan to go the other 4 days, but I have an appointment on Friday that I will have to leave for part of the day to make. So I will be there in the morning and then back in the afternoon.

I am going to try very hard to write more often. I hope to see you soon!

I don’t even know where to start…

I haven’t posted in a really long time, and I apologize. There is a reason, and I’m going to do my best to fill you in. I hope I can get the whole thing out.

My stalker had come back. Mostly, he just followed me, but he did approach me once while I was sitting on the front porch at my house. Then on the night of October 15th, I needed to go get my mother gas before she went to work the next day, and I had put it off because I wasn’t able to sleep anyways. At about 3 AM, I took her car to the gas station, filled up her tank, and went inside to get a soda and a snack. He was there. He had followed me, even though I was in my mother’s car, and he had come inside the store, for whatever reason. To scare me, I guess.

I had finally had it. It was like a switch flipped inside my brain. I was done. My mother would be leaving for work 6 hours later. That is what I remember thinking. I don’t really remember leaving the gas station or going home. I do remember being at home and waiting for the sun to come up, then waiting for mom to wake up, then waiting for her to leave. Five pills at a time, I started to take an overdose of one of my medications. I emptied the bottle. Then I just sat on my porch, smoking cigarettes, waiting and thinking.

It was the thinking that got me. I started thinking about my friends.

I called for an ambulance. The firefighters got here first and took a set of vitals and all that jazz. My blood pressure was low and my pulse was high. By the time the ambulance got here, they were even lower and higher respectively. I was able to walk to the stretcher, with some assistance, and they didn’t stick around the house very long. I was taken to the hospital with lights and sirens going.

I ended up being in the ER for 24 hours and slept pretty much the whole time. I was transported to the psychiatric hospital the next day, in the morning. I ended up being there for 5 days, that time. When I was discharged, I started PHP again, and 3 days later ended up going back to inpatient. I was kept for 9 days before being discharged again and started PHP again. This time, I lasted for a week before I had to go back to the hospital. (In the middle of all of this, I dropped the class I was taking this semester. I hadn’t been since before the suicide attempt, and was too far behind.) The doctor there kept me for 12 days that time.

I’m still out of the hospital, a week and a half now. I did have a manic episode hit me after leaving the hospital, and the doctor at PHP (who happens to be the same doctor I saw in the hospital) made an adjustment last week. She basically told me to stop taking one of the antidepressants. I feel like I am coming down from that, so now we wait and see how far down I go.

And that is all I am going to be able to manage tonight… I do really hope you continue coming back.

Please let this not be real…

I don’t want this to be real. I can’t really go into detail. Except that I took a Thorazine, and now I am waiting to see if it is real or not. The Thorazine always works, if it is psychosis, paranoia or hallucinations, so I have no doubt that if that is the case this time, it will take care of it. And if that is not the case this time, we will soon know. And we will probably soon be freaking out.

I’ve been having nightmares and dissociating for a few days now. I wasn’t sure why, and then I really started noticing things. I think my brain had been subconsciously noticing them since Friday, which is kind of when the dissociation started getting bad again. I barely spoke at PHP today, barely slept last night from the nightmares, didn’t sleep the night before and was in the ER for self-harm again. This time, it happened while I was dissociated.

I’m having such a hard time staying present right now. My brain keeps trying to go away. It’s just after 1 a.m., I should be in bed, but I am terrified of having more nightmares tonight. I don’t want to sleep. I’m scared to sleep. What if what is outside tries to come inside?

I took the Thorazine 20 minutes ago, and it is still there. It hasn’t budged, faded or otherwise shown any sign of being affected by the medicine. I’m gonna give a little longer to work before I officially freak the **** out, but I am headed that direction at this point…

And I spaced out…

I started this blog at 1 a.m., it is now 1:40 a.m. Where has the time gone? Nevermind, I know where it’s gone… into the abyss of dissociation because I am triggered beyond belief. I took the Thorazine right before starting to write this, right at about 1 a.m., so now 40 minutes ago, and it is still there. I guess it is really there, no matter how much I want it to be psychosis.

Now to just not have a panic attack. Thing is, this is completely logical, reasonable, and possible. The likelihood is not entirely known, but it is possible. It has happened, and been repeated, before, it’s just been a while. That’s why the likelihood is up in the air. Could it really be happening again? After this much time?


Aww, dammit… I guess that’s enough trying to not say it because I don’t want to scare my friends that read this. I’m not going to be able to sleep anyway, so saying it isn’t going to make my night any worse than it already it. I’m already having massive urges for self-harm and passive/semi-active suicidal thoughts (not planning on doing anything tonight, don’t worry, and I have PHP tomorrow morning).

So, a little history…  I was in an abusive relationship around 20 years ago. The abuse was horrendous and included mental, physical, and sexual abuse. The relationship happened over the summer and ended around this time of year. After it ended, he stalked me for some time and would have some of his friends also follow me around when he couldn’t or to make me think he wasn’t there or something. Then he stopped stalking me, for a couple years. All of a sudden, he was back, two years later, and he had people following me again, also. And so it happened, every now and then, I would get stalked for a few weeks to a couple months and then it would just stop. There would be no telling when or if they would start up again. It’s been about 8 years or so since they last followed me. Usually, it’s around the end of the school year or this time of year when it happens, both of which are significant.

So, I noticed this morning on the way to PHP that there was a car behind me the entire way. Out of habit, I lost them with a few quick turns in a neighborhood, because they weren’t too close behind, before pulling into PHP. It’s sad that after 8 years, I still remember my instincts… The reason I took the Thorazine tonight… the same car is sitting parked across the street, a few houses down. I don’t see anyone in it, but I had to be sure that the car itself was real. Well, now I know.

I don’t know if I can handle another round of this… I thought I was done with this. It had been 8 years, why now?

Well, it’s the middle of the night…

… and I’ll give you three guesses.

Number OneI can’t sleep.

Well done!

Number Two I want to self-harm.

You’re two for two…

Number ThreeI’m sitting on my front porch, writing again.

Got ’em all!!!


I’m not sure if writing is really going to prevent me from hurting myself, but it will at least postpone it. Maybe long enough that I can just go to bed… that’s the hope anyway.

I want to make it through the weekend and go back to PHP having not hurt myself. That’s the goal right now.

I was feeling good for most of last week. Then the weekend hit, and I crashed. I slept most of Saturday. Mom woke me up at 4:30pm, saying dinner would be ready in 15 minutes. I was completely confused. I didn’t understand how it was so late. We ate dinner, then I took a 3 hr nap and got up at 9pm. I went to bed again around midnight or 1am. I was really only out of bed for around 6 hours on Saturday…

I’ve been working on school work for most of today, with breaks thrown in. I got two assignments done and turned in. There’s only one more that was due Tuesday, but I’m not going to be able to finish it in time. I’m just happy I got the other two done, and can start working on the last one tomorrow, hopefully. I want to have something started when I go to class on Tuesday. I’ve been stressing out over this class for a while now. I feel like I’m so far behind but I know that there are others in the class that are in the same boat I am, if not farther behind. I just can’t help but feel like I am going to fail, even though I have a high B with what has been graded so far. My brain keeps telling me I am doing horribly, that I am not a good artist and I should just give up.

That’s just my self-esteem trying to get the best of me. I’m not going to let it win, not this time. I’m going to keep going, and I’m going to keep trying, and I’m going to get this degree and get a job in this field. So there.

Thanks for reading and I hope to see you again soon!

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I apologize for not writing sooner. The partial hospitalization program and school, together, have been kicking my butt. Those, plus other appointments getting squeezed in as best I can, I’ve barely had time to sleep, it seems. I want to write at least a couple times a week and I’ve been seriously failing at that. I need to get on the ball…

At the moment, I’m sitting on my front porch, enjoying a slight breeze, listening to rock ballads from my day.  That makes me sound old… I’m not old. I’m 36 years old. Call Me by Shinedown is currently playing. It played Skillet earlier, and Three Days Grace. So not really too old stuff, just not too current either. Back when music actually had meaning and wasn’t all about drugs and sex. Sure, some of it was, but even those songs were more than all drugs and sex. There was still a point to the lyrics.

The only bad part about sitting out here is the bugs. They are attracted to the porch light and the light from the screen of my laptop. And for some reason, tend to fly at my face… I wish there were a way to create a world without bugs. Not possible, I know… bugs serve a purpose. They all do something for the ecosystem in one way or another. Just getting rid of an entire species of insect could offset the balance in a way that we couldn’t even really understand yet.

I digress. I had a point I wanted to talk about when I started writing and music and bugs are not it.

So, let me get to my point…

The medicine seems to be working. I’m not depressed. I’m not psychotic. Well, I can kind of hear the demons talking but it’s so quiet that I can’t make out any of the words, and I’m not seeing them at all. So, I don’t count that as psychotic, compared to where I was. I’m past thinking that Satan is trying to influence me into killing myself.

My mood started getting better when the doctor added a mood stabilizer and then got even better when he changed one of my antidepressants. The only thing that worries me is that I have been itching for a week and a half, and that is about how long I have been on the new antidepressant. I’ve taken it before, a while back, and didn’t have a reaction to it then, so it’s possible I’m reacting to something else.

The nurse at PHP mentioned that my seasonal allergies could be making me itch, that that happens sometimes. I’ve also recently had to change laundry detergent, and that change could just now be catching up to me. The new one is still perfume- and dye-free, but I may just not be able to use that brand. We bought some of the kind that I used to get, but they stopped making it in powder, so we had to get liquid. I’ve never used liquid detergent, so here comes a bit of a learning curve. I have to do laundry tomorrow.

I haven’t been depressed for over a week and it feels good. I’ve only self-harmed once in the last 18 days. Which for me is amazing! I self-harmed on the 8th and then the 22nd. Thirteen days in between without a trip to the emergency room. One of the goals for my treatment plan for PHP was to go 2 weeks straight without needing to go to the emergency room for self-harm. The therapist was nervous about that one because he didn’t want the goal to prevent me from going if I needed to go. I was able to reassure him that I wouldn’t let it do that. As shone by going to the ER on the 13th day. I am still proud of those 13 days!

I guess I’m just worried that the psychiatrist is going to have to take me off the new antidepressant because of the itching, even though it is working really well. I really don’t want to have to change it to something else, that may not work as well, if at all. It’s so hard to find medications that work for me, and that keep working for a while. That’s part of the reason I lose hope a lot of the time. The meds never keep working for very long. Then finding a medication combination that does work is near impossible. When we finally do, it stops working after a while, too. I’ve always been like this. Treatment-resistant.

On top of all of that on my mind, I am slightly behind in my class. I have 2 little assignments and one larger assignment that need to be done by Tuesday. It’s okay if I haven’t finished all 3, but I really need to try.

And on that note, I’m going to call this blog done… thanks for reading and I hope to see you again!

And to top it all off…

I’ve been having some sharp pain in my shoulder for a while now. I had a few shots into the joint, but they didn’t last very long at all. The last shot I got lasted all of two days. I called the doctor’s office, and the nurse practitioner that I see regularly decided to send me for an MRI of my shoulder.

I managed to get that done two days later, on Friday. First off, I hate closed-in spaces. I start to panic. Somehow, I still managed to stay still even in the middle of a panic attack. I almost squeezed the little ball they gave me that would signal them to come and get me out. I tried controlling my breathing and just counting my breaths when I would start to panic. It didn’t completely fix it, but it did make it manageable. That is all I could ask for at the time, really.

The appointment for the MRI was the last one on Friday; 4:30 pm. I was actually surprised when I got a call midday yesterday, from the doctor’s office. The nurse on the phone relayed that I have a possible tear in the glenoid labrum of my right shoulder. They are referring me to an orthopedist. Usually, when they refer out, it means you need surgery… I really hope I don’t. I really, really hope I don’t. I saw my mom go through a shoulder replacement, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. I don’t know if I would even have surgery if they told me I needed it. That’s how much I don’t want to have shoulder surgery. Only having the use of one arm is not fun. I saw it with my mother. You are practically useless. Can’t get dressed, can’t prepare food or carry anything really, can’t pull up your own pants after using the restroom. It would be utterly humiliating having to have someone help me do everything. And I do mean everything.

I just have to make an appointment with the orthopedist, and see what they say. I also have a back up one, for a second opinion, if I need it.

With this, on top of everything else going on, I am so ready to just give up. I’m totally surprised I made it through the night without hurting myself. I didn’t sleep. The demons were too loud and I just couldn’t shut my brain off. Might have a little bit of mania or a mixed episode sneaking in there with the depression and psychosis. Satan wants me to kill myself and is using my demons to try to get me to do it. He is telling them what to say and do, and implanting images that are more than disturbing. I’m stronger than that, at least right now. I can withstand the onslaught that the evil forces are throwing at me. If it gets to the point that I can’t, I will go to the hospital. But I need to stay out of the hospital. I need to be able to go to and participate in class. It’s important that I be there. I’ve skipped one day because I was having a really hard day. I am tempted to skip today. I’m exhausted from not sleeping last night, and I have to go to HEB at some point today as well. Mom needs sodas, as well as a card and gift card for a friend. I just don’t know what I would tell mom for why I’m home early, or the excuse I would give the professor.

I’m just getting overwhelmed…

Thanks for reading and I hope to see you again soon!