No excuses

Theere are no excuses for my abscence.

I just haven't felt like blogging.

There still been plenty going on. Maybe there's been too much going on. I don't do very well with time management; My room is a tip, I haven't completed the extra bits on the volunteer project i've been doing, I haven't started the college (yes i'm attempting to study again)assignment i got monday (its now Friday), I'm trying to get fundraising bits sorted for my run (paper forms & cards with online sponsor page, just a T-shirts & the emailing round/publicity to do) - oh & i'm still trying to lose all the weight i gained over Christmas. Probably about half a stone, but its not just over eating at christmas, its huge lack of exercise due to illness too. So that flat tummy i worked so hard to gain has gone. But i need to be thinking about running really as i am extremely behind with training. So for now it will be running 4 days a week, yoga/pilates etc 4 times a week, a couple of my beloved classes on a sunday (although one of them is one of those 4 yogaish ones) and fridays i may do a weights class but taking it gently.
Except for half term & tutorial weeks when i get the chance to do classes with instructors i really miss doing classes with.

That kind of brings me onto why i've returned. The nightmare last night was that mixture of painful upsetting because it was comfort that i know will never happen & very distressing because it was dragging up some of the worst of the past. I can't recal the order of events but it included all of these points:

• M, an instructor i miss doing classes with rescuing me when my car broke down & i was very distressed & taking me back to her place


• Where my psych called me and told me i was going to be sectioned (It was my first adult services psych who couldn't really speak english & grabbed my arm & pushed up my sleeve to see my scars - funnily enough i always hated him) when i asked why it was due the arm band marks that mum had seen on my tummy - which apparently made me a danger to myself (WTF goes on in my head while i'm asleep?!)


• I told M it would be fine as i hadn't been harming, so i'd go but they had no grounds to section me.


• Except they did. horrible psych was there with another of my current instructors R who was trying to get him to see the benefits of the classes while he just said it was me damaging myself. There was another bloke in the room i was in too & i can't recall what but he doesn't have a positive feel attached to him - quite the opposite.


• Somewhere along the lines i was talking to someone at a yard who was telling me she had met me before when i'd had a car accident with a horse box, but i was sure that i had only had one serious incident which didn't involve anyone else (which is true). I felt all confused in the dream but kind of confused when i woke up too. Its like the dream was becoming reality and i couldn't separate the 2.


• There was something else too about getting ready for a party & getting the theme wrong & then we were at this restaurant & someone dropped the game of battleships & mum & i were trying to find all the little pieces. All though there were no familiar faces other than mum, it still didn't feel like a happy dream. like there was something underlying which still makes me want to wake up & cry.

Which is pretty much what i did - well on the car on the way here, to college. Is it a bit risky blogging from college? That does seem to be a big theme with me right now - Apathy. I couldn't give a shit about anything. Its taken me a month to start stressing about the weight gain - stressing to the point of harming at least and even then i couldn't be bothered to do that damage i felt i wanted too.

Anyway in 7 minutes i need to be in class where we are giving indvidual presentation - just what i need!

I don't know what i'm thinking anymore.

Saw K today & left feeling worse than i did before i went in. I knew i should have left when time was getting tight, although i did still manage to make it to the gym on time for evening classes. Thank goodness i had combat after LBT, i had so much agression to let out, although i didn't manage to make it out of the studio before i started crying.

I also left K with a prescription for Carbamazepine, a low dose & only a 2 week supply. She asked me if i was likely to take the lot & right now i don't see the fucking point in anything, all my head is saying is "why not?"

I wouldn't show her my stomach which is probably the first time i've kept that back from her, but despite needing to stick myself back together with tape at least once a week at the moment, the damage there felt insignificant & i almost felt embarrassed to show her because it was so pathetic. Although i know if i hadn't taped the wounds back closed it would have been a different story & i also know that had i gone to see anyone about them to get treatment it would have been sutures. I;ve just gotten lazy & would rather it take a few more days to heal & stop bleeding completely than go through the effort of suturing right now. I just can't be bothered.

She asked me if i'd seen M & what her thoughts were & how she was. I questioned whether M had called her which i know she has done in the past when she has been concerned, but clearly M isn't that worried as K said she hadn't called. I said M was concerned that my weight was dropping. To which K said "Well you had got a bit chubby" i am now making sure that comment stays lodged in my head, afterall what else could be such great motivation to get me to move my arse at the gym & cut out any unnesseccary food? My BMI is now 20.5, so getting there but the chubby waist & stomach still need work. Why is it you lose weight from certain places first - for me its my chest/breasts and face, never the stomach, hips or thighs.

Starting college, getting this job on wednesday all seem pointless & like no hope. Mum & D go away friday for the weekend, in my head right now this would give me chance to do damage i want without being worried about being found out, i just worry i;m not in control enough not to go too far. I think this week is going to be a little risky, but nothing can go wrong before friday, otherwise mum won't get her weekend away.

I'm not seeing M until next tuesday - thats 7 days. I have 19 classes booked at the gym. Thats 19 hours to get rid of some of this weight, the stress of a meeting about benefits & also the job interview should shed some weight too hopefully.

Right now i want to cause damage, i need to cause damage. I want to give up, i;ve had enough.

But i still can't hurt mum or nan.

Stumbling Problem

I have a porn problem. A food porn problem. I'm back into the habit of googling & floolwing links to recipes, and saving some of them in my favourites, knowing full well i will probably never make any of them. Although i have gone as far as to buy some of the ingredients for one.

I've been here before. I know the signs, but i don't want to stop them right now. I'm losing weight & i'm happy with that, even if i do feel physically exhausted & crappy, dizzy etc.

The BMI is down to 21 but i still feel big.

M used the word depression on numerous occasions today while i sat the and talked through my tears. I didn't even feel pleased when i saw the number on the scales - not that i didn't know what it was anyway, the weighing at home is daily, if not more right now. I didn't want to go, driving there. I couldn't be bothered to talk to her today. I just wanted to curl up in a ball instead, and after i had taken my shoes off for the scales i sat with my legs tucked up underneath me, closer to that ball shape.

However from talking to M today, i think i will give the meds a try. Or at least i did, yet sitting here now i'd rather just carry on cutting instead. i feel like i would be masking a problem, that people would expect me to be fine once i was on meds. By as M pointed out, trying to think about anything right now is almost pointless as the depression and blackness is just masking every sensible thought.

How am i supposed to make a decision on my future in the next 2 weeks when i can't see past the next week? And i'm not seeing K again until the 8th August anyway. who knows what will happen in the next 3 weeks. Part of me still wishes something will go wrong, either i collapse or harm & make a mistake. i wish it would be all taken out of my control right now, only trouble is if it was, i'm not sure i'd like their plans, especially if involved hospital.

I don't know what i want at the moment. I don't see a future. It is purely day to day. I get up throw myself at the gym & exhaust myself. In the last 9 days i have done 22 classes plus a 15 minute run plus exercise walking at the stables of about 4 hours in that time.

I'm going to try & cut back in the next week. Either i've exhausted myself or i'm anaemic again, either way the blood test J took yesterday will tell. I booked the appointment friday evening, as i drove home from the supermarket i could feel panic overwhelming me, the dizzyness was stronger & i just felt desperate. I think it was more psychological than physiological friday evening, so i was glad that as i was asking the new-ish receptionist for an appointment with J, E came out and when i replied to her question that i wasn't ok & the tears starting rolling down my face, whilst holding onto my hand over the counter, telling me how well i'd been doing, she told the new girl to unblock a certain reserved appointment (probably an emergency slot that would open up on the morning of that day) so that i could see J straight after the weekend.

Part of me wished E hadn't taken my hand because i wanted more comfort, just like when i collapsed into the ex-bosses arms when i saw him & he had crept up behind me giving me a shoulder massage. My mind flew back 10 years when she had given me a hug, before i crossed the line & got too attached. Although of all the staff she is still the one who will reach out & give me some physical reassurance.

I feel frustrated. frustrated that i don't know what i want. Angry that government organisations won't give me the answers i need. Angry that part of me doesn't want to accept help & is almost happy for things to stay this way, with me harming myself & losing weight, angry because i know i should want to be normal without appointment & the need for help. Yet frustrated that i can't lose control & cause the damage i want to for fear of upsetting my family. Part of me wishes that the cut catch a blood vessel & don't stop bleeding like a few years back, so that i have to try & get myself to the surgery to pray that J & K can stop it, but knowing at the same time that then they know whats really going on in my head.

I think thats the problem, i still feel that if the damage doesn't show physically then no-one will really understand whats going on in my head.

No-one can see the images i see - reliving the past, the damage i caused, the incidents that happened, the stress of being chased my police after absconding, sleeping in a church yard over night when i was on a section 3 and should have been on the ward. No-one can see the thoughts i have, the things i really want to do. How i want to damage my arms, expect if i started wearing long sleeves again now, especially when i go to the gym constantly - it would be too obvious.

I need to go to bed. i can feel that crying myself to sleep is the only way to release this tonight & i know as soon as my head hits the pillow, if not before, the tears will be falling.

Exercise overload

I've just booked a few (for few, read 5) classes at the gym for a week tomorrow. I had a count up my planner at the same time. I have 17 hours of classes booked in the next 7 days. Its got a bit out of control. The caffeine addiction will well and truely set in by the end of this week, if it isn't already.

That 17 hours doesn't include 4 hours of volunteering with horses, a rare night out on friday with gym buddies, walking into town (staying there to save petrol between gym & volunteering) to go to the bank & PO or helping a gym buddy out for about 3 hours with a project.

The thing is my body just keeps going, i never collapse with exhaustion, despite a restricted calorie diet. WTF is wrong with me?

I know 1 thing that is - my knuckles are still broken.... every so often i try & grip something and i can feel it. I can feel the lumps on the back of my hand & knuckles too. Mum grabbed my hand today while we were messing around & ouch, yes there is certainly a problem. However i can use it enough for the gym though so thats ok!

"Even if it is broken......

......there's nothing that can be done anyway, is there?"

That was my response to K this morning when she asked me if i wanted an x-ray of my hand. If i had made a better job of punching then perhaps & even though i am in pain, couldn't make a fist for her, flinched every time she touched the knuckle it still doesn't mean there is anything that can be done.

She said to strap it up & stick it in a sling, which isn't really possible when driving & certainly can't happen when i'm at home or at the gym - that will attract even more attention to it. Trying not to show that i can't really use it for the pain is hard enough, especially at the gym. Have had to cancel a class tonight. A, i feel exhausted & B can't make a fist to punch properly. Might have felt different if it was a certain instructor, but its not her so i'm not too bothered. Off to the gym for a class in a bit anyway, so i still get one in at least. Not that my heart rate monitor is working to tell me how hard i'm working, don't think it will be that much anyway the way i feel today.

Think a sleep might be needed this afternoon. Would rather sleep right now but need to get my lazy arse into gear & get changed. I know i need to take a couple of detours too on the way, so i really should move off the sofa.

But before i forget one last thing, K was talking about starting me on a mood stabiliser, to even out the low dips that happen every so often. Maybe its because things have been this way for so long, but there sadly feels like a little security in feeling like this. Sure it might be nice to feeling less depressed but whats the point of feeling less depressed if i have nothing to do - no job etc. Then i'd just be a less depressed exercise addict, yet functioning benefit cheat with no future prospects, rather than a depressed, exercise addict, self hating & harming, pathetic, state scrounging fraud of a person.

I think i'd better stop there & go to the gym.

Long time, no see

I saw someone today that i used to trust with my life and even though we haven't spoken in a couple of years, i would still trust her will all my secrets if i saw her again tomorrow.

I'm going to call her Rose, because i will never forget the day she told me i looked like a rose when i smiled. I was 13 years old & had been seeing her at school weekly (the benefits of going to a private school - they hire in a professional counsellor) for a couple of terms when one day i finally gave her a smile. It was a rare occassion where she saw a different glint in my eye - a slightly happier one.

I've always know she lives in the same village as me. I can recall on one occassion she gave me a lift home from school because she wanted to see me after school when she could give me more time to talk. I've bumped into her outside of school on a couple of occassions through amateur dramatics as a teenager. I'm not sure she actually saw me today as it was very busy with a fete going on. Or maybe it was because i was with mum, that she bypassed me. Mum saw her. Mum hates her. On one occasion Rose offered mum a session so she could talk about what went on in her childhood with her siblings & parents & the divorce with my dad. Mum didn't like the fact that Rose wanted her to talk about those issues. As far as i know she had never done so before then. As a result mum now hates Rose, yet as i said i would trust her with my life.

When we parted as i left school & our professional relationship ended, she told me that if i ever wanted her as a friend she would do her best to help me. Its not the same as being able to spill my heart & soul though. I think i took her up on that offer once, when i wanted the phone number of the local Samaritans rather than the national number, to save my mobile phone credit, whilst babysitting. I knew it was in our village magazine & she was the only person i could think of to call to aks, who might have the magazine. Needless to say the number is now saved in my phone. Perhaps i should remember that at this present time. Rose's number is still saved there too, but i'm not sure its right to call her, depsite what she said those years ago.

Seeing Rose today.....it made me wish she was still my counsellor. For a year she supported me before telling me i should see my GP as she thought this was more than the teenage blues, by that time i had been feeling low & scratching my wrists for 2 years. She was right & its thanks to her that i sought professional help. I still wonder, if had i not taken her advice, whether i would have gone through all the professional services that i have, but then i think the same about my first hopsital admission & my entry into inpatient services. However i also look back & remember how many weeks i saw Rose & sat there & cried (some things don't change) and how after a year of seeing Rose once a week, i then started cutting in the summer holidays - when i didn't have her support.

Its probably because everything is bottled up inside of me right now but i wanted to talk to her, tell her how things aren't good, let my eyes well up & take comfort from her. In my head, she'd put her arm around me & we'd go for a walk, away from the crowds & she's listen to the things i can't trust anyone else with. I'd brush my hair away from my face & she'd see the blue bruising on the back of my hand & knuckles, knowing the signs....... But of course with mum there i'd be lucky to say hello. I didn't. I couldn't.

I wish i had said something & ignored the fact that she was saying hello to someone behind me. Perhaps thats why she didn't see me because she had spotted someone else before me, i still could have pulled her attention back towards me, yet i didn't. I could have walked back towards her, followed her & initiated a conversation once she had finished speaking. Instead i followed mum, left my mind crying for her & ended up wanting to be back hiding at home wishing we had never gone out in the first place.

The only good thing about seeing her - reassurance. Reassurance that she is still around & maybe the hope that one day we'll talk again.