My Manic Life.

I'm not sure whether I should describe myself, or what this Tumblr is going to be about, so I guess I'll do a touch of both...

I'm Rio, I'm female, 19 and bisexual. I'm engaged and live with my fiancé Jonny and our 5 Chihuahuas. I live in the UK, but I use a lot of 'Americanisms', they're easier to type usually.

I have Bipolar 2 RC, GAD and contamination based OCD - I'm a 'hand washer'. I self harm and have done so for going on 9 years now. I'm currently totally housebound due to Agoraphobia (18 months and counting since I last went out). I also have a history of Eating Disorders (Anorexia and Bulimia - Purging Type), substance abuse (I'm diagnosed as 'Alcohol Dependant'), plus sexual abuse and a host of other things explained in my posts. ***NOTE - I'm currently in the process of being re-diagnosed and having some existing disorders tweaked. Please bear with me/my blog while it all gets sorted!***

This 'micro blog' is a mish mash of my feelings, thoughts, experiences, my past, present and maybe a little about my future too.

This is about my journey to achieve good mental health and if you want to, you are more than welcome to join me on my way...

Shall we begin?

Key -
Currently mid transfer, details to come.
??? = Therapist.
??? = Psychiatrist.
Peter = Former Therapist and Support Worker.
Dr Kelly = Former Psychiatrist.
EDC = East Dene Centre - The CMHT clinic I'm with, now under the 'Intensive Team'.
IT = Intensive Team (see above.)
St. Johns = Old clinic, when I was under CAMHS and lived in Nottinghamshire.

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I spent the majority of the morning on the sofa, crying under my duvet, because the floor wouldn’t stop moving.

Cancelled my 3pm meeting with Peter.

Did manage to get a bath eventually though.

Also, haven’t been able to eat all day, aside from 3 slices of cheese and some chocolate I snaffled at breakfast, which was 12 hours ago.

I’ve been so confused all day, cannot grasp anything. Just had a minor argument with Jonny because I felt like he was mocking my confusion. My words aren’t coming out right or making sense and I can’t take anything in at all. I keep having him repeat things 3 or more times and I still can’t understand what he’s saying to me. It’s like a foreign language. He’s only chatting to me or asking basic questions and I’m mind fucked. Words feel so strange and unfamiliar. It’s beyond ridiculous how bad it is today.

Now I’m sat here, feeling shit, I cannot wait to go to bed and sleep away a few crappy hours, before all this shit starts again tomorrow…

Yes, my letter re: my new Psych finally came this morning! I will be seeing Dr Kelly from the EDC (so we were right! - see my last post), which is the East Dene Centre and I think I’m under the intensive team, but I’ll have to ask to confirm that!

So that’s it, just got to wait now until my appointment on the 14th and do my best to get through it! Sorry btw, for all the black blocks, I don’t want my address on here and what not ^^

Peace xo

I feel like crap right now, ugh. I’m getting more and more antsy about meeting my new psych, I’m really wanting to back out again already, I don’t feel up to it. Really. I know how stupid that sounds, ‘I don’t feel up to having someone, who is trying to help me, come to my house’ but my god, I know home visits aren’t the norm and I truly appreciate them working around my needs, but when I can’t even meet them 1/4 of the way (forget 1/2), then what am I supposed to do?

Okay, I’ll cut the crap. Here it is. Laying it bare, this is my big issue. I know I can get through the visit one way or another, I know I can drag myself through the assessment and come out alive. I know that if they change my diagnosis, I’ll live. I will survive. I know if they just confirm it, then that’s just fine too. I know they want me to do start CBT again and that’s alright by me, I’ll go along with it for sure. But what I know I cannot do, is take the god damn medication they’ll prescribe. I can’t. I just can’t. Every single time I’ve gone on meds, I cold-turkey them. Without fail. Usually within 3 months. My record is 6 months. No kidding. I am one big huge massive giant uncompliant arsehole. I don’t mean to be. I want their help, I want to be better, I just don’t want their pills. I don’t know if it’s my upbringing (very very anti meds BP1 alcoholic mother, who regularly tells me I don’t need medication, I just need to be strong, like her… fucked up I know) but every single time, I drop my treatment. Why oh why do I listen?!

It’s so fucked up, even more so because I encourage others on meds. I encourage people to research them, enquire about them, start them, continue with them, etc etc where appropriate. I’m pro med! I’m pro med, for other people. Some of my friends are on various pills and I always give them a talking to if they mention wanting to not take them. When it comes to me taking any, I turn into a huge hypocrite. I think it’s a mix of my upbringing and my anxiety, the pills terrify me. I have delusions(?) that it’s secretly poison. I just have a huge problem with any and every med. Really, I hate myself for it and I have no one to blame for my continued instability, but myself. I could be so much better than I am right now, if I stopped being such an asswipe and just accepted the help. I just don’t want to need them. I want to be better now, all by myself. I’ve run myself into the ground battling my own mind and where did it ever get me? Trapped inside my house for over 18 months, anxiety ridden and riding the moods roller coaster without anything to stop me or slow me down.

And here I am, like clockwork, starting the whole damn process over, knowing I may just back out again but fucking hell, if I don’t even try, well then I never had the chance to succeed right? I’d have failed from the word go. So this is where I’m at I suppose, terrified to start medication again and terrified to walk away. At the risk of sounding morbid, I know one time I’m going to walk away and I won’t get another chance to be treated, because I’ll have finally succeeded in killing myself and I’ll be just another statistic. I don’t want my life to be defined by my death.

Shit is turning a little black now, I’m sorry!

I suppose, in short, I don’t want the pills but I know I need them and it’s knowing that fact that’s tearing me up inside. It really side swipes me and knocks me on my ass every time I let myself think about it. The idea of relying so heavily on something doesn’t sit right with me. I know it’s ridiculous. I wouldn’t feel the same about medication for diabetes for example. You know why? Because my family never belittled or de-legitimised diabetes. Despite the fact that on my mothers side of the family there is Bipolar, Anxiety, Paranoia, EDs, Seasonal Affective Disorder, OCD, panic attacks and Psychosis, mental illness is stigmatised amongst that side of my family. It’s kept hush hush and god forbid you seek treatment or take meds, because you’re weak if you do that shit. But it’s totally cool to hoard, be a shut in, drink yourself to death and be hard to live with, because that’s coping. How fucked up is that shit?

I just read back that last paragraph, which I kinda bashed out in anger. Maybe more therapy is a good idea :’) On a serious note though, I want a life, I want kids one day and I’m not going to bring them into a family that will reject them for treating their illnesses, should they develop any, which hey, is pretty likely looking at my family!

I’m going to do this. I’m 19, I can’t spend the next 70+ years inside. I want my fucking life back.

Peace xo

P.S I’m sorry this turned into a slightly emotional rant/diary entry/stream of conciousness, I think some things got a little stirred up o.o

Okay, wow, so I have some catching up to do… I’ve posted a few times straight off my phone which means I can’t see notes/post properly, so I thought I should get on here and sort stuff out!

RE: ‘Disinfectant Bath’ post - As you may/may not know I have dogs, 5 of them and occasionally they’ll step in poopy in the garden, so we check their paws every time they come in after toilet time. This particular time Jonny didn’t check their paws and Rafferty tracked a bit of poop inside. I got seriously freaked out by this and had a panic attack. I ended up washing my hair with disinfectant (which I found out was not skin safe and made my hair smell ‘pine fresh’…), I then had a bath followed by, oh yes, a second bath. I was satisfied enough then that I wasn’t going to die, so I retreated to bed (all clean bedding yo) and stayed there for the rest of the night pretty much, washing my hands periodically with antibacterial soap. I stayed in panic mode for a good 4 hours after my baths, before finally calming down a little and leaving my hide out. That was a day filled with anxiety, tears and rage.

Yesterday ended up pretty bad too, I was very anxious and became fixated with my neighbours, who were having a party. I was obsessed with the idea that they were doing ‘voodoo’ and they were going to ‘use demons to possess me’. Took me a while to calm down from that and agree to once again leave my hide out room. At one point while I was hiding upstairs I also felt as though I had shrunk and was trapped inside my on head, (literally) and was clawing at the inside of my skull trying to get out, while doing so I could ‘feel’ brain bits squish under my finger tips, like I could actually feel that. I found myself almost jolt back to reality, sort of like a dream, shaking my hands to get the gunk off them…

Even after I came back downstairs the noise of their music/chatter was driving me insane (no pun intended). It seemed to provoke me a lot, which I didn’t fully realise until everything was quiet. Every laugh brought out a wave of rage and anxiety. Not a pleasant experience by far.

I’m expecting a call from the CMHT tomorrow, so I’ll update here tomorrow, when I’ll hopefully have good news…

Also, I’m sorry if this had really bad continuity or made little/no sense, my thoughts are so scattered and jumbled right now =/

Peace xo

Well today I feel like dookie. Don’t get me wrong I’m not ‘down’ or depressed, I’m just a touch irritable and my god, the anxiety… ugh. Sky high. Been thinking a lot about self harming today and most of yesterday too actually.

Possibly having some mild depersonalisation issues… I have a recurring ‘desire’ to burn my hand by putting in under the grill (read as broiler, if you’re American). When the thoughts start it builds and builds until it doesn’t feel real, it feels as though I’m watching from somewhere over my shoulder, like I’m watching someone else do it. If I start to go attempt to hurt my hand everything feels very slowed down and fuzzy. Trance-like. In the moment, when I feel like that, it honestly feels like there would be no consequence. Literally, in my mind it’d go - desire to ‘grill’ hand > grill hand > continue as normal.

When I’m not directly feeling those emotions, like now and like last night when I discussed this again with Jonny, I’m fully aware of what would actually happen - hospital to treat my hand and then inpatient and a lot of family upset.

It was happening a lot during my last depressive episode then I seemed to have a week or so where I was alright with it. I have no idea why it’s back, I’m beginning to think it’s more anxiety related, than mood based. Or perhaps it’s something else all together, only time will tell.

I said to Jonny last night that it’s not an ‘if’ I do it, but a ‘when’ I do it. Even as collected as I am now, I still feel a sense of peace, or maybe acceptance, towards the whole thing. Like it’s just an eventuality. I guess I wanted to post about this because I’m unsure if I want to take a pre-emptive strike approach and tell someone sooner rather than later, or let it play out and hope my appointment comes before I do it… The truth is I’m a total chicken shit when it comes to dealing with things like this, I hate talking to people.

Jonny pretty much lets me make my own decisions, unless I’m in immediate danger, which I understand, so the choice is mine, except I can’t seem to make it…

So, what do I do?

So that’s it, my letter confirming my admission into the CMHT/CTT (I prefer CMHT, older name for it but eh, sits better imho) and the form I had to fill out and return :)

Long time no see tumblr. After 2 wonderful people taking time out to contact me, I thought I should stop feeling sorry for myself and get my arse back on here! (Thank you, truly.)

A lot has happened in the time I’ve been away! I see from my last post I was waiting for a home visit last. Well that never came to fruition, I cancelled my appointment and some wires got seriously crossed, the therapist thought I was kicking off and police were involved, thankfully the policeman had more brain cells than the 2 bit therapist and all was resolved quietly :)

Since then I’ve still been off meds since the Citalopram (Celexa) and Mirtazepine (Remeron) fiasco.

Now - A few weeks ago I got referred by my GP again, this time to the SPA Team (Single Point of Access Team). Their job is to assess you and decide if your needs warrant CMHT care (Community Mental Health Team) or can be dealt with by the general local ‘Psychological Therapies Team’.

I had my SPA assessment 2 weeks ago, Friday 7th October and my assessment put me in the ‘chronic’ category. That was a nice kick in the teeth I’ll say. So anyway, I got referred to the CMHT. I got a letter a few days ago with a form for me to fill out and sign, so I’m currently waiting for my ITT meeting (Introduction to Treatment). The waiting list is currently 6 - 8 weeks, however because I’m currently quite symptomatic they’ve said early - mid November is the time I’m looking at for a home visit.

After the ITT meeting I’ll be able to share my treatment plan with you as far as therapist/psych docs/meds etc etc. I’m expecting a long slow process, complete treatment overhaul. Whoo!!! < sarcasm.

I’m hoping to get back to posting regularly and can’t wait to get caught up with people :)

I’ll be posting my mood charts as before, although I may just take pictures of the actual paper, rather than do it on the pc, save me copying it out! I’ve recently started a daily mood journal too, so I’ll look into sharing that maybe…

My mood right now is on the up, so I think I’ll be able to get things rolling easily.

Glad to be back tumblr type people, hope I’m welcome!

Peace xo