Month: August 2014

The mind is willing but the body is weak.

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Bipolar of BPD I am on an up right now.

For the first time in about a month my brain seems to have come on line! Whoop whoop.

It ramped up with fairly easy fiction reading and knitting to reading papers and finishing off a chapter that I haven’t been able to work on for over a month.

Last night I stayed up. I got some good work done. Took a 2 hour nap during the late afternoon when I realised I felt like I was floating away and actually talking rubbish but got going again. I’m meant to be going in to work tomorrow to do some lab work that requires focus, but I got an email from my supervisor today saying they had expected some chapters, really wanna get on and sink my teeth into this next chapter. I know I can do it. But my eyes are closing, and the small voice in the back of my head is saying I won’t have focus tomorrow if I stay up too late tonight. But I will. I know I will I can feel it. It’s if I go to sleep that it will all go bad. If I go to sleep I might wake up not thinking clearly again, with a brain full of fog and have to wait how many months to have a clear head again.

I don’t have that many months. I have two months before we are hoping I submit, and sooooo much work to do. I have 7 chapters to my thesis and as of today only 1 that has all sections filled in with something, even if that something is the ramblings of a crazy woman. No where near ready to submit.

The Dr signed me off sick for two months from today. We are going to try me on the fluoxetine again. I suggested it, I agreed to it. I thought it would help. But I’ve made no moves to take 2 months off from the PhD to settle into the meds again. I’ve also just realised that I’ve not started taking the meds yet. I should have. After I got off the phone I should have. But I didn’t. It’s that same thought that says I shouldn’t go to sleep tonight, it’s saying that I shouldn’t pause the PhD, I shouldn’t start the meds again. 

Yeah I am up. My brain is working. And my stupid body wants sleep. If I wasn’t driving someone else in a car tomorrow I’d say fuck it, stay up and work, write, think, and leave the lab work for another time. Captialise on this focus while I can as I never know when it will go or come back again.

Ok now is not the time to get caught up in this. Deep breath. Feed the fish, tidy away and save my work, have a drink and take the medicine, have a shower and go to bed. Tomorrow go to work, do the lab work, in between work on this new chapter in my office. Go to a friend’s celebration as she has finished her PhD. Be healthy. I can do this. Oh and take the medicine tomorrow as well. Gah head is still telling me I’m making a mistake in all of this.

I hate my body for being so tired and I hate my head for being so confusing.

Bright side, draft chapter handed in today. If nothing else that counts as awesome.



In this moment

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I was asked on my to write a blog post. I had hoped that my next post would be about the gardening, about the knitting, about successful steps in the phd, about feeling better, about something pagany, about something cat or geek related, about anything other than this.

I’m not doing well. There, I said it. What do I mean by not doing well? I’m drowning in a sea of fuck-ups of my own creation. I’m struggling with intrusive thoughts, with copious amounts of anxiety that just makes me want to hide under my duvet and see no-one, not even my husband. My CPN (community psychiatric nurse) asked me how I dealt with anxiety I said that sometimes I try and knit, go out in the garden or read very short stories, but recently it’s been too much of that, and more than likely I will take a diazepam or go to sleep. She explained that sleeping isn’t dealing with the anxiety, just avoiding it. I guess I should have discussed that more, as none of my arsenal actually deals with the anxiety, after each one of them it just comes back. I can distract my mind from it for short bursts, but as soon as that distraction is gone I’m drowning again.

I used to think I didn’t have anxiety. Hell even now I question my anxiety as well as any other labels I have on me. I’m not hyperventilating right now but I am what I would describe as anxious. Maybe that’s why I don’t use the term panic attacks. Right now my skin is crawling on my forearms and hands, my throat feels like a balloon has been inserted into it and it is being inflated, whilst it is also being squeezed from the outside, I feel like something is clawing inside my chest, in the centre; just above my breasts but below my collarbone, the pit of my stomach wants to throw up, so much so I can just about taste it in the back of my throat. Even my nose feels like it is being pinched so I can’t breathe through it. My breathing is shallow but not fast.

I’m so full of what I call anxiety but I’m not panicking. I can’t panic. It’s 8:30pm now and I’ve been like this since I woke up this morning at 9am. I’ll likely stay like this until I go to sleep and wake up the same tomorrow. It’s been like this for a while now, more than a week less than a month probably. I lose sense of time when I am like this. I’m not crying either. I am sad that this state of physical sensation has become something that doesn’t panic me, has become so commonplace that I am used to it, but I’m also grateful in a way. Because right this minute there is no rage, no urge to self harm or impulsive need to escape it all, and that means that I am safe.

Right now I am not doing well, but I am safe. 

I had a bad few weeks recently, which saw the diazepam being used with increasing frequency, the nitrazepam being re-introduced but as a sedative rather than a sleep aid, and the zoplclone being used as a sleep aid. Things have gotten better since then, so while I am not at my worst I am avoiding all sedatives, also trying to avoid alcohol. The benzodiazepines aren’t meant to be used over a long period of time. I’ve been prescribed them on an as-needed basis for 11 years now. I like to think I’m not addicted or dependant as I can go over 6 months without having any, indeed one new Dr sent me to a drug dependency clinic following my request to have my prescription filled. They said that I have no signs of dependency, although they did diagnose me as BPD. I know that after intensive use they make me more anxious, my anxiety level will be low but I’ll want to ‘pop a happy pill’ to make that feeling go away. Indeed, if I took one now I would feel better. I’d be able to focus on my work. But I’m not going to. If I do then I will just keep taking them, and right now, although it would help I don’t need it. I am not doing well but I am safe. I keep the diaz and nitraz for when I am not doing well and I am not safe.

So other than a whooping case of ‘anxiety’ that I won’t treat with medication, I also seem to be suffering from incredible self doubt (which made me put the anxiety in inverted commas, because come on I’m not really sick am I? I’m just putting it on surely), a terribly short temper, a minimal ability to concentrate on things, a phd that needs doing and time is ticking away, a garden full of crops that are rotting and being eaten by slugs, a house that is being utterly neglected, a social life that is being utterly neglected and intrusive thoughts that tell me there is no way to put anything back together.

I’ve asked to see my psychiatrist again. I don’t know if he’ll even see me. Last appointment he said that I could come off of the fluoxetine as it isn’t doing anything and he didn’t think I was clinically depressed. In a slightly manic week I went cold turkey off the prozac (and all other medications I take, because drugs are bad and if I just stop them all I’ll be able to think clearly again and everything will be nice and happy and rainbows again right???), that was maybe June-ish. I’m now doing a lot worse than I had been then. I might ask my GP for the menopause again, that was the one treatment I was given that actually worked for me. Or at least I think it worked. I don’t trust my memory at the moment, I don’t trust much at the moment. Maybe I should be adding paranoia to my list of current symptoms. Fuck.

I wish I could know what was a symptom and what wasn’t a symptom. What is my flavour of crazy. I wish I could know what was wrong with me so I could treat it. So I could be ok. So I could just be a normal girl, with life stress, a dysfunctional and broken family and body image issues. But I honestly don’t think I’ll ever get there. I don’t think that I will ever not blow up in rages, not run away and hide, not be a self harmer with suicidal tendencies, ever not need to have a bottle of diaz in my bag in case I flip out, ever not have to be constantly distracting myself from the horrors that play inside my head on loop. I honestly don’t ever see a future where that will be. 

But for now I just have to worry about today, this hour, this moment or I will be overwhelmed. And in this moment I am not doing well, but I am safe, so let’s call that a small victory.

Dans – off to try very hard to read some very boring research papers from the 90’s and try to get this PhD one tiny step closer to being done

No idea if that was the kind of post the questioner was after. As always, if you have any questions you would like to ask anon:

Dansism, sacrifice and offerings

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I think I have mentioned it on here before but I consider myself to be a pagan. I’m not really any particular type of pagan. I’m a bit agnostic about deity, but I have a strong connection to the land, to the way it changes over the course of the year. I value life in all its forms, I try to live my life leaving as little damage to the earth in my wake. I’m not one for much ritual but I know how to participate. If I practice any ‘magic’ at all I guess it is what you would call sympathetic magic and hedgewitchery. So that’s a bit of my back ground. Call it Dansism if you have to put a label on it!

I have 5 festivals in the year that I always mark in some way.

Samhain (what most know as halloween) is always marked by leaving a light in the window to guide any souls which would wish to visit me, a plate setting at the table for dinner for any souls that do and a plate of food outside.

Yule (just before christmas) I end to get together with some friends. We feast, generally on bread and soup, drink (spiced mead and mulled wine), and try to spend an evening without technology. If we manage it we watch the sun set, stay awake during the night and meet the rising sun. Go for a walk in a nearby wood or place where nature reigns and feast on a massive fry up.

Beltaine (may day) when I can, I go to a pagan camp, meet with friends, possibly take part in a ritual, drink, sit around a fire, jump a fire and take part in a maypole.

Midsummer (longest day) I try and go for a walk, we drink and when we can we go to Finland and celebrate Juhannus, with bonfires, saunas, cider and sausages.

Lammas is the festival I celebrate the most formally. For 10 years I have been to a pagan camp where I take part in at least 3 different rituals and chant with people. Of course, as with most festivals I celebrate home brew, food, fire and friends are integral. It was the Lammas camp I went to this year that prompted me to make this post.

We burn a wicker man (an effigy, not a human – just in case anyone was worrying) at this camp, and we make an offering to the fire. Twice, about two different things, in the lead up to the wicker man ritual someone said to me ‘Oh that is so lovely, it seems a shame to burn it’.

Both times it made me stop and think. How many offerings do people make to their Gods or their land that doesn’t make them think ‘oh it’s too lovely to give’? When I was first starting out in paganism I was reading a book (as you do) and in the first chapter it asked you to make an offering, to give to the land something you cared about. I never got past that chapter of the book. Everything I had that meant something to me I didn’t want to give away. I didn’t want to lose it.

But if it doesn’t mean so much to you that you would give it to your land and your Gods, is it really worthy as a sacrifice or an offering. If it means nothing to you then what intent are you giving when you offer it?

Even down to libations. I am big on libations. I believe in giving homebrew and foodstuffs to the land. I used to libate any wine, often the ones that were getting drunk slowly. But now, when I do, I choose the best bit of the food, or the best wine that I have to give.

I’m not saying you must offer your first born or your heirlooms. In fact I’m not saying anything at all. Your relationship with your land and your Gods is between you and it/them. It just really made me think about how I have changed.

I’ve come a long way in myself since those early book reading days. Now when I make an offering it is of something that I love, for I’m not sure how to express my love for the land other than to share with it that which I love and value.

I don’t know if any followers/readers of this blog are pagan inclined, or even any other religion inclined but participates in offerings. If you are I’d be interested in what you think about offerings and sacrifices.


And if you want to ask questions about my beliefs anon

CBT, free writing and anger

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Talking with a friend today. We brought up my CBT.

To be really honest I don’t know if it is helping. Currently we are working on a diary of what I do each day and a thought diary. If I get  bad thought I write down the situation, write down how I am feeling, wrote down the logical thing to do about the situation, writing down what I did and finally how I feel now.

Is any one else doing CBT? Does this sound like what you do? When I am bad but not bad bad I can fill this out completely. I usually am able to see what I should logically do, but aren’t able to do it. and the feelings following that are much the same as the feelings preceding it. When I am really really bad I can’t complete it. I get to the what I should logically do and the page gets filled with swear words, horrible, horrible things before descending into scribbles, things being thrown and potentially some form of self harm.

My friend mentioned free-writing. This is something I did when I was much younger, before I even knew what free-writing was. It was pretty much the same. On the bad but not awful days I could do it and sometimes it even helped me work things out. On the bad times the free-writing would just descend until my thoughts got more and more violent, more and more graphic.

I was looking for a fan fiction on my hard drive the other day and I can across one of my computer free writings. I have to admit it triggered and scared me. There is a part of myself that is so full of hate and loathing directed at myself that I am scared to even acknowledge its presence. It’s always there at the back of my head, I hear the comments, I get flashes of the thoughts but for the most part it stays at the back. When free-writing it seems to come loose.

In a way I know I’ll never get past it unless I face it but it truly scares me. I think I might try and dig out some more of my free-writing tomorrow and see if there has been a time it helped or if it has always been like this. I am so tired of being scared of my own head, of my potential actions.

Just wondering how CBT works for others, and if others with extreme anger issues have found a way to make free-writing work for them.


And if you had any burning questions you wanted to me ask me anon

Me + You + BPD = My Failed Relationships + Suicidal Ideation.

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Enlightening blog on BPD and relationships

Phoenix - The Rebirth of My Life

July 30th, 2014  3:04 PM

Recently, I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). I did not know what BPD was and how I developed symptoms for such disorder, but while I was hospitalized I was assessed using the DSM-V diagnostic criteria and an in-person interview with a psychiatrist which revealed several symptoms for Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), bipolar tendencies (I did not show enough symptoms to be diagnosed with Type I or Type II Bipolar disorder but showed symptoms of manic/hypo-manic episodes) and the famous BPD.

What  exactly is Borderline Personality Disorder? BPD is a very serious mental disorder which results in unstable relationships with other people, instability in mood and behavior. This can lead to impulsive behavior and suicide. I do not want to give a full lecture on the reigns of BPD, but you can find out more information about the disorder here. I do want…

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Fucking up and question answer free for all

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I write this under the influence of 10mg nitrazepam and 6mg diazepam. I apologise in advance for typos and non-sense.

My mental health is fucked up. It causes me to fuck things up around me. Negatively affect those around me.

I realise today that there is a lot that people don’t know about my mental health, important things.

A fellow blogger recently started an account for people to ask questions about mental health anon.

It inspired me to do the same. The questions don’t have to be mental health related. Can be to do with my various crafts or anything.

I had thought that was a kids thing, but I see its value now.

I am at:

I can answer one straight out.

Q. What;s your biggest fear?

A. I have 2. One that everyone I love will die and two that my mental illness will kill me one day.

Bah think that is ne out.