One day it will all be over

The itching is a bit better today. It's still itching but it is definitely not as bad as yesterday. The palms of my hands are still swollen and somehow burning. But my face looks so much better. But it is still itching, especially on my arms and my back. I did something that I have actually been avoiding due to my hypochondriac tendencies. I googled withdrawal symptoms of Seroquel. I can't believe that people still get this medication! Poeple lost their eye-sight, got strokes, got heart-attacks and most people get the itching and burning that I'm experiencing right now. I'm really relieved that I actually stopped taking the med after just three weeks on it. Otherwise I probably would have had to take it for the rest of my life because getting off it would have been impossible with my ubersensitivity to medications. So yeah, I'm still itching but it feels like it's getting better. I feel a tad weak and this morning I was really close to throwing up. Most people experienced the itching for two or three weeks so at least I know now that there is an end to it. 

Getting off yet another med because of bad side-effects has led me to the conclusion that this is it. I don't want to try any new medications/antidepressants/moodstabilizers/antipsychotics. People always say that I have to endure side-effects and have to try out all the meds avaiable before giving up. Well, if I had a bacteria infection and I knew that there is an end to it, I might have to take the antibiotics for a few weeks, maybe months, yeah, I would try out everything avaiable. But when it comes to psych-meds I'm not thinking like that. It's because I'd have to take them for years and years to come. Why? Because I have several diagnosis, it's not just one infection. Anyway, I don't want to try out any more meds. I guess I slightly hope that they will get somewhere with neurological research and somewhat come up with a simple solution to mental illness. Like lobotomy but less invasive and more studied. On the news they said yesterday that they have found out that the genes of people with mental illness are the same,that there is a genetic disposition. And they came to the conclusion that mental health is mostly genetic and not enviromental. That's a huge find. But of course no one cares because they'd rather think that we have done something wrong than that there is something wrong with the genes, something we have no control over.

So I have given up on meds. I have given up on the hospital as well. But not totally. I can't rule out that I'll be admitted again. That will be periods when I need to be safe. But I want to avoid that as much as possible. One of my biggest fears is getting sectioned, to be admitted against my will. But I doubt that will happen. I'm a reasonable person, even when I'm anxious or really low. So I know what to say and how to act to not get sectioned. Then there's therapy. My psychiatrist told me that he doesn't think that therapy will help me. He said that therapy will only make me understand but it will never heal me. Yeah. I have tried out CBT and DBT. I don't like being told what to do without any proper explaination. The causal correlation between the past and the present, between my actions and my memories has never come up. I can't do that. I need to reflect, to discuss, to learn. So CBT and DBT (which was the totally wrong therapy for me!) didn't work out. I hope that psychodynamic therapy might at least help me to understand. If I understand and accept I might be able to change things, I might be able to gather more strength. I want my recovery to be on my terms and psychodynamic therapy seems to be right for that. But who knows, maybe I won't get in. I still haven't heard from them. It's been six months since my last therapy session. 

So, without meds, will I ever get better? And without therapy? I feel like I'm stuck right now. Nothing has moved forward for a year. In and out of hospital last year, several times. This year has so far only been about standing still. There has been no improvement (how - withou therapy?). I'm starting to give up hope. Honestly, in my head I have already given up. I don't believe that there's any help out there for me. They give me diagnosis after diagnosis, they give me med after med, they put me in and out of hospital. They don't know what to do with me. I'm too complicated, I'm not just a "simple" depression or have BPD or have social anxiety disorder. Nope, I have several things. And they don't know how to help me. I feel like that there is no help for me to get. 

If I were religious, I would let God take care of me. Well, I'm not religious, I don't believe in God, energies or anything spiritual. So where do I turn to? Nowhere. I only have myself. For now I'll take each day as it comes. I'm not in a deep depression right now. I'm depressed, yes, but I'm not awfully suicidal. My anxiety is there but bearable. So I'll just carry on. Day by day,. There are things happening in my life. In three days I'm getting married. In three weeks my university studies start again. I have things to look forward to. And I'm content about these things, but not happy. I'm never happy because even the things that should bring my happiness are always somehow connected to anxiety, worries and so on. Like: I have gained so much weight I'll look stupid in my wedding outfit. Like: I'm afraid I'll fail the courses because I'm doing too bad. So my point is: I'll just carry on, take each days as it comes and not think of the terrible, meaningless future ahead of me. But there will be a day when I won't be able to fight anymore. And that will be the day I'll commit suicide. I knew that day would come, even when I was a small child. I always knew that I'll die of my own hand. And I'm alright with that. It won't happen tomorrow and probably not this year. But maybe in five years, maybe in ten years. The day will come. And I'm alright with that. I have made my peace with the thought that I'll kill myself. Because I know that there isn't any proper help out there for me. No one can help me. And that's okay.

I've told all this to my social worker the other day. I have no clue if that was right or wrong. I explained it to him logically. He didn't say anything. He probably thought that I won't be his problem when the day comes anyway. So he just pretended to listen and hoped that he'd be able to leave my flat soon because all this negativity was making him bored. I know, I know, I can't know what he was thinking. But that's how I felt he was thinking because there was no response coming from him.

I know this post isn't overly positive. But I feel like I have made peace with the thought that there is no proper help out there for me. And I have a plan that makes it feel okay. One day it will all be over. Maybe that day will never come and I'll die of old age, with an uneventful, meaningless life behind me. Who knows.

Dismiss your emotions

I think I'm alright at the moment. I'd rather not give myself a minuteto give it a second thought. Whenever I try to feel how I'm doing I suddenly experience all kinds of negative emotions. In DBT they taught us (again, DBT= shite for me) that we have to "surf the emotion". I have never been able to define my emotions, to be able to exactly say what I'm feeling. I often just call it a negative mess. And I'm supposed to just let go and let the negative mess take over and "surf" on that wave of emotions. Eh, what?!? Anyway, I don't really want to know how I'm doing. I'm just trying to ignore my feelings, distract myself. I can say that I'm frustrated because I don't get anything done. I basically lose hours of my day with, eh, doing nothing, surfing on the internet without any apparent reason. Like check twitter every two minutes, stalk people on Facebook, read the news on different websites. Or I play games on my phone. And it's frustrating because I have a lot of things that I want to do. There are also other things that I have to do but those I'm not too worried about. I want to focus on things that make me happy or content. I want to exercise but this week I have only been able to do that twice so far. I want to read. I want to write. I want to cook a great meal. You know, the little things. Still, I'm procrascinating from the things I love doing. What the heck?

I'm really undecisive when it comes to the Propavan. Really, every day when I'm at my worst I think:"To hell with it, I'll take the whole dosage again". I mean, it has been three weeks now and my body and my psyche are still acting up. The worst is the restlessness, it's mostly in my legs. It's some kind of physical agitation I think. It's so annoying and can really drive me nuts. I'm trying to stay away from coffee and black tea so my body won't get any more hyped. Well, having said that, I'm drinking a cup of Earl Grey-tea at the moment. But I have really cut back on all caffeine and tea. I still feel like I'm more awake, the hangovers are gone. I wonder how much energy I'll have when I'm totally off the Propavan? I'm sleeping a bit too little at the moment, maybe five hours a night. Last night I took a Zoplicone with my half Propavan and I didn't wake up once during the night. That's good! But yes, the restlessness will drive me nuts eventually. I will continue with the half dosage until the middle of August I think. If I don't all of the sudden listen to my desperate thoughts and actually go back to the whole dosage. Today I'm positive towards the whole thing. And I had a good morning. Our new kitten woke me up by biting my big toe and then licking it. So that kind of brought a smile to my face. T has broken one of our most beautiful vases yesterday. He just threw it on the floor. Haha. I wasn't even angry, I just laughed. The two cats seem to get along with each other. I think T is a bit too energetic for B though. They chase each other, they have real fights without any biting or claws. They are awesome together. But T really has an attention-span of one second and all he wants is to play play play play. B often just often looks at him in amazement. Well, it's never calm here, something is always happening. And that's good.

Today it has been exactly one month since I've last been outside our apartment. This is starting to frustrate me. I have nothing to go out for. At least nothing that is worth the panic attacks and the anxiety I'll get when I'm out. I have now for two weeks tried to get myself to go to that one store that sells the hairdye I need. But I just can't. So my boyfriend will go and buy my hairdye tomorrow. Pathetic, eh? I also need new shaving cream, shaving my legs without it is just not working. Blah. So next week, yes, next week, I'll go to the supermarket together with M. And the week after that I have an appointment with my psychiatrist and my social worker is back from his vacation. And my mum will come to visit us for a week (I soooo don't want her to come, but what I can do?!?). Then it will be M's birthday on the 5th. Tenacious D will play on the 12th and we might go if we can afford it (doubtful). On the 15th we will get married. So in the near future I will have things to go out for. Maybe some routines will be good for me. I kind of lost all of my routines, everything seems so meaningless. Why clean thouroughly if no one comes and visit anyway? Why shower, I won't meet anyone anyway? Yeah, I could do it out of self-respect. But that's something I have never had. But I have showered today, even washed my hair. One step into the right direction.

There will be some changes in our life soon. I've been accepted for the two university-courses I had applied for. They are internet-based courses, so I don't have to physically attend classes. That's perfect for me. The reason why I was put on a sick-leave last autumn was that my anxiety was too much when I was out, amongst people. I was in panic during lecture courses. So I'm not there yet, I can't continue with my Master's studies, not at the moment. So I'll study Russian and philosophy instead ("the history of ideas", it's kind of like philosophy, you could call it philosophic history). Anyway. The courses will start in the beginning of September. I don't know how I will be able to cope with my studies on a daily basis but I think I'll manage. It will be good to have a "must", to just have something meaningful to do to distract myself from the anxiety. I'll be a full-time university-student. And that sounds so much better than "being at home ill". And my boyfriend has decided to do something about his life. He is so fed up with his work. So he wants to study to become a psychiatric nurse. Now, how perfect is that? I'll have my own nurse at home. Haha. No, honestly, I think it's the perfect profession for him. So he has applied for the program. He is almost 50 years old. And he has somehow realized that life is short and that he doesn't want to get stuck in some shitty job, being unhappy and stressed out all the time. So he will now work on his dream. He has always wanted to work with people. He has mental issues himself. He had been an amphetamine-addict for over 20 years. He has been clean for almost 10 years, he has built up a life with me. He has so much to offer, he won't judge and he can relate. Really, he is perfect for the job. So I hope he'll get accepted to the program. That would mean that we would be living off student-benefits. But we have counted it out and we would actually be better off than right now. I have no income at the moment, we only live off his salary and he has to pay off some debt. So there is not much money. But you don't have to pay off your debt if you get student benefits (+loans) so we would actually have around 200 Euros more a month, and that's the least. If we are lucky we can get up to 800 Euros more! How crazy is that? Anyway, first I need to get all the papers right so I can get my benefits, then he has to get into the program and also get the benefits. But the future looks bright. And I'm proud of my man, he is actually doing something about his unhappiness!

Okay, time for dinner. Tuna-salad. My boyfriend is already in the kitchen, cutting vegetables. He has been at home all week because the people at his work are idiots and stress the hell out of him. And he wanted to be with me because I have been doing so much worse with the Propavan. He has sick papers so it's legal and fine. Right, dinner. Then maybe an episode of "Sons of Anarchy".

I'm confusing myself

I'm actually quite alright right now. And I didn't crash yesterday. Maybe the worst is over. My anxiety is still strong and I wouldn't be able to do anything demanding right now. But I'm not sad. I have been looking at cat-memes all morning. Ah, by the way, that's something that annoys me. That these pictures are called memes. Meme is a term that Richard Dawkins brought up in a sociological meaning. A meme is a unit in our society that is generally accepted as a truth and therefore is inherited by the next generation. It works in society at the time and keeps up certain laws. Religion is a meme, capitalism is a meme, patriarchy is a meme. But I'll not be all intellectual now, most people aren't interested in those kinds of things anyway.

I have had some confusing and weird thoughts. I think they are some kind of defense-mechanism. It's like this: there is a lot of confusion around what diagnosis I have. I have met many (many!) different psychiatrists during the almost three years I'm contact with psych-help. And they all come up with different ideas about what to exactly call my condition(s). They all kind of agree on Avoidant Personality Disorder/Social Anxiety, PTSD and GAD. But they don't think that's all and I agree with that. So first they were convinced that I have  Borderline Personality Disorder. But I don't have that, I don't fit the category, I'm not impulsive, I have no problems with relationships. So they thought that I might have Depressive Personality Disorder/Dysthimia. But nope, now I'm bipolar instead. 

I'm so tired of it! Why must my case be so complicated?!? Why can't I just have one diagnosis? Why can't they see what I'm suffering from? I have done two kinds of therapy so far. CBT and DBT. Both didn't help me one bit. I'm one of the "unlucky" ones who doesn't get better by just going against her feelings. Like, one of my social anxieties ( I have many, I avoid all kinds of human contact if possible. I haven't met a single friend since February. I haven't been outside our apartment for almost a month now) is to take the subway. I saw that as my main obsticle to get to university, the one place I want to get to! So I did all the exercises, I took the subway every day to university for almost a month. And it didn't get better, it got worse. I eventually ended up at some subway-station in central Stockholm where the police picked me up because I had a major breakdown. I wanted it soooo bad! And it didn't work out. I theoretically understood and still understand how CBT works. But it doesn't work for me. DBT. Well, it wasn't for me. I felt like an outsider during the year I did that therapy. I was the odd one out. I didn't have their problems, my problems were totally different. I didn't get better, I even got worse because I saw everyone else doing progress and I was still stuck with my anxiety and suicidal ideation. One time I was sent to hospital right after grouptherapy because I was sucidal. That was so embarrassing! Anyway, I didn't like DBT, I found it condescending. Mindfulness is a joke to me. It doesn't work for me for several reasons. I might write another entry about that one day. 

Meds don't work for me. I'm too sensitive to medication. I get so strong side-effects that I end up in hospital every time I try out a new med. I get even paradoxal side-effects! I can get euphoric of benzodiazipines. I got really tired of Wellburtin. The few medications that have helped me (Abilify and Lamictal) I had to stop taking because they caused Caged Tiger Syndrome and an allergic shock. 

So what is left for me? What more can they do? Psychodynamic therapy? Try out even more meds? I have lost all hope. So now to my weird thoughts. There are several:

1. I'm too fucked up. No one can help me. They only see me as an annoyance. It's my own fault because I can't really describe my feelings. I am intellectualizing everything. I'm a lost cause to them. 

2. Maybe I'm not ill! Maybe I'm healthy and all the meds I have tried out actually made me ill. And to continue to have contact with the psychiatric center will only make things worse. So I better quit everything. Stop taking all the meds. And hope for the best.

3. Why do I continue to fight? I can continue living this meaningless life some more years. Until the pain gets too much and I commit sucide. That has been on  my mind since I was a child. I have always been convinced that I'll die by my own hand. So why fight it? Maybe that's my fate (although I don't believe in the concept of fate or determination)

But I know what I'm actually feeling. It's fear. It's the fear that they actually have nothing more to offer me. And the fear that they think that I don't want help. I haven't tried out the Seroquel. I always seem okay when meeting the professionals because I can hold the mask up. At least most of the time. I haven't even cried once in therapy! So maybe they think I'm just a lazy attentionwhore. I have real difficulties to ask for help or to be honest about how I'm feeling, or to even describe my feelings. So yeah. I've lost hope. And I'm afraid that they have lost hope too. I'm afraid that they will say they I have to blame myself to not take the help they offer me. But what is it they offer me anyway? Hence the defensive thoughts. Better to believe that I'm not ill,  better to believe that I'll kill myself eventually than to face the truth that there might not be any help out there for me. 

Maybe I don't want help? I often feel like I just want to be left alone. Maybe in the end it's the fear for change. I don't fucking know. I want to be myself. I want to be able to try out to live. I want to reach my full potential. I want to be the best I can be. But the years I have fought for getting the right kind of help have made tired. I don't want to fight anymore. It doesn't seem worth all the pain. It's just not worth it.

I don't even know if this entry makes any sense! I better go and get another cup of coffee. And smoke a cigarette. And get some logic into my head.

It couldn't have gotten any worse (hate!!)

On Wednesday I had my appointment with T, my social worker. My boyfriend was at home. I had been feeling close to panic all morning so it was quite hard for me to keep myself together and not freak out while talking with T. We sat in the kitchen, talking about something unimportant. My boyfriend comes in and blasts out that I really should talk with T about my worries concerning the psych-office and how I don't have any contact with psychiatrists or therapists right now. At that moment I really hated my boyfriend. I have to be able to do things my way and to find the right moment to ask for help. I don't just ask for help or tell people about my worries, problems and anxieties. I felt so embarrassed, I just wanted to disappear. I can't really describe the feeling. I had the strong urge to run out of the room, lock some door behind me and hide. My boyfriend is someone who wants to fix things right away. I can't do that. I need to find the right moment. I need to be confident enough and I need to be in a good place so I can handle backlashes, unfriendly people and possible embarrassment. And I wasn't in that place at that time.

So T called the psych-center. I didn't want him to, I just wanted him to leave. But he called. I wasn't ready for any backlashes. I often prefer not knowing to knowing. I want to know the truth and be able to move on and find new solution. But I want to be ready for it, I want to be ready for the truth. I wasn't ready on Thursday. Soooo, T called and of course he got connected to some super-stressed and unfriendly nurse. The one I also always tend to get on the phone when I'm calling. She checked my journal, and here it comes, : I'm not on any waiting-list. Ka-boom. In my face. I won't get any help any time soon. Fuck. my stupid idiot ex-therapist told me that she had fixed it and that I'm on the waiting-list for psychodynamic therapy. But she apparently lied. I wonder if she lied about updating my file as well and it still stays that I have Borderline.

You know, I have done DBT for a year because some doctor decided that I had Borderline Personality Disorder. I did the therapy but it didn't help me at all. I kept questioning my diagnosis. And I finally got a new evaluation in December/January. And I had been right, no Borderline, but instead two other personality disorders, four anxiety disorder and PTSD. The psych-office changed management and my therapist (DBT-one and the one that did the evaluation) quit. Our last appointment was in February. My psychiatrist quit too by the way.

There is no real solution right now. I'm still registered at that office. T tried to book me in for an appointment with a psychiatrist so I could get some papers I need and I can discuss my medication. But she couldn't say when I could have an appointment. And the she hung up. T promised me to call the leader of the psychodynamic team yesterday and then contact me. And he didn't contact me. So yeah, I guess he couldn't get it fixed. 

So how do I feel? I'm pissed off. I have spent three months at a closed psych-unit last year. I have seven(!!!) psychiatric diagnosis and still, they forget about me?!? I should be prioritized in their fucking system, especially because of all my suicide attempts last year. And then I feel like I'm maybe not worth any help. Maybe there are people that need the help more than me. Maybe I'm a lost case and they decided they just wait until I have killed myself so I'm not their problem anymore. I have always had trust-issues and I have met a lot of bad, mean and imcapable psychiatrists and therapists. And somehow I often feel like no one can help me. I'm too complicated, it's me that is wrong. I'm a lost case and they have given up on me. To sum it up: I'm pissed off and really really down. If there is no help out there for me, and I know that I can't improve on my own, why do I continue fighting? Maybe it would be best if I just killed myself. No more pain for me and one less problem for the psych-people.

*yawn*

I'm so tired. As always I guess. My cat woke me up this morning, at 8.30 a.m. I think I got around five hours of sleep. You know, I need around 9 hours to feel okay and rested. So you can imagine how tired and drained I'm feeling right now. The last three days have been TERRIBLE!! But there have actually been some reasons for it. When I met my social worker I was in panic during the whole time, I was trembling and tried not to say too much. I've become really afraid of being sent to hospital against my will. So I'm pretending to be okay. Although I have been badly suicidal, fantasized about my death and felt a great relief at the thought of it all being over soon.

But today I'm feeling alright, although I'm tired. I had a good morning and I guess that made my vulnerabilities weaker. I received a package with clothes that I had ordered. Walking into the kitchen, seeing a package on the table with your name on it, that's just awesome! Then my boyfriend and I had a lovely breakfast with scrambled egss, bacon and strawberries. We sat on the balcony for hours, drinking coffee, enjoying the lovely summer-weather. We exercised together (him on his running-machine, me on my exercise-bike), we had a yummy salad for lunch. And now he's watching TV and I think I'll join him soon. Or maybe I'll go to the balcony again, with a book and my mp3-player. I'm trying to think of the "now", DBT-style. It's funny, I hated doing the DBT because I don't have Borderline Personality Disorder. I had been misdiagnosed and I got forced to do that therapy. Anyway, I hated it really badly. But nowadays I realize that there are a few, a very few, things that I actually try to use to make myself feel better. Things that I have been taught in the DBT. Like to think of the now if I'm too worried about the past or the future. I hate short-sighted actions, I always think that the bigger picture should be taken into consideration. But sometimes I just can't grasp the bigger picture, it gets too overwhelming, I get overly worried so I just focus on what's happening at this very moment. And right now I don't want to think about what has happpened during the last two days.

Later I'll have some frozen yoghurt and I think we'll watch some movies. And hopefully I can sleep tonight and my stupid (lovely, cute, adorable) cat doesn't wake me up early in the morning again. Gah, I am so tired!