I’ve just left the doctor’s.

I always get worked up before going to the doctor’s. I can never get an appointment with just one, the same one. I get shifted between 2 female doctors and 2 male doctors.

Today I saw a new doctor, and he was amazingly kind. Dr Kadir actually listened to me. He wasn’t typing at the same time, he wasn’t distracted. All his attention and concern was on me, and I appreciated that. As soon as I sat down, the word vomit happened. I told him I cannot sleep. My anxiety keeps me up. What if, what if, what if. I cannot shut it off. Sleep to me is a lack of control, it is a vulnerability. It has peaks, and it has lows. Lately it is at its peak and it is affecting my job, my social life and my mood.

He listened to all my concerns and all the things keeping me up at night. He prescribed me Zopiclone. I said that’s fine but one doctor cuts the dose in half and gives me 4 tablets, whereas another gives me a full dose for 7 days. His response “That is pointless. There is no use halving your dose because this is a severe problem, 3.75mg isn’t going to touch you.” Here is a doctor paying attention to me, and not making me feel like I am a liability. I couldn’t be more grateful. He has suggested to make these 7 tablets last over 2 weeks and if the problem hasn’t improved to come back and we will do a medication review.

I currently take Paroextine and it has been wonderful for the last year. However over the last 3 months I seem to be having more mood swings, less sleep and more ptsd symptoms. So the next visit may involve a medication change. I think I am okay with that, but if it is a new ptsd specific medication I may have to go see a psychiatrist to get it prescribed.

Let’s not worry about that for now. James is on his way over for a cuddle and to listen to why I am so anxious and potentially feed me bad food.

I just want to feel still.

My mind is always active, there is always something to think about. It is like a constant white noise in the background of everything. It can be harsh, it can be belittling, it is never nice. I feel so alone and I wish I could give someone access to my brain. Hey friend, I am not being needy or annoying but I just need someone right now. I don’t want to have to say it, I just want someone to know – but that is dumb.. and not possible.. I don’t know what I want. I don’t want this.

I just need someone to hold me so I can at least feel put together. I also keep having shitty shitty dreams that James is going to leave me. The last 4 nights have been so vivid and they really hurt. I ask him often, you’re not bored of me are you? You’re not planning a secret break up? Do you really love me? When I don’t share these thoughts it’s like they multiply and get worse.

I’m just fed up with being that needy person who has to have reassurance. Someone didn’t text back? Jesus Christ, they don’t hate you. I know tonight is going to be chain smoking, and a late one.

Do you ever get fed up of chasing.

Sometimes I don’t want to check in on everyone. I want someone to check in on me.

I have no idea where this feeling has come from but I have an overwhelming feeling of being forgotten. I have no reason to feel like this, but instead of talking to someone I’m just sitting alone blaring it away with music.

I have no interest in anything lately.

I feel so much better today.

I am not in a grump! Yesterday after work I channeled my grump into tidying my room. It is no where near perfect but my floor and desk are clear. All my crochet can be located in one area, that is semi tidy. I put my fairy lights back up as well. Last night Rolo and I chilled out watching Chicago Med. I felt so much more chill.

Tidy room, tidy mind.

I don’t know why I am in such a mood.

I know I don’t like change and we have moved office buildings recently. We’ve spent all morning making sure things are set up, and we are 90% there. We’ve got a few issues setting up network connections, meaning I can’t fully do my job. Most of my day has included moving things, setting things up, cleaning things.

I just want to carry on with my normal job, not just me, but most of us are falling behind on our day job. I get stressed easy, more so when change is involved. I’ve told my brother I am blaming my starsign, and he didn’t seem to take that.

My period is over and done with.. this one was 6 days of hell. I can’t blame my mood on that. Watch me do it though.

Facebook memories.

This is not going to be an easy post, but I need to get this out, I can’t let it sit and stew. This post comes with a trigger warning for anyone sensitive to self harm, and assault.

I just checked Facebook memories and have been reminded that it was a year ago yesterday that my ex best friend’s boyfriend took complete advantage of me, and I ended up alone in a hospital I did not know. I have briefly covered this in my About Me section. I think writing about it, even if I am making no sense, will help. I can’t leave work, I can’t hide, I can’t have an episode.

I’d know C for years, so long that I do not remember how we became friends. We were close, I listened to her issues, we spent weekends together and she made me laugh. We had a lot in common and she was easy to hang out with at first. There was minimal drama, you know? Just 2 girls who connected and enjoyed each other’s company. There wasn’t a subject we couldn’t talk about. It was great, until she met her boyfriend J. The first 1-2 years together they had huge arguments, they broke up, it was a fucking mess. J lied about having cancer, using that as an excuse to leave C. He lied about having Bipolar. He lied about everything you can imagine.

They eventually moved in together, and I didn’t want to miss out on spending time with C, even though she knew my strong negative feelings towards J. I didn’t like him. He made me feel uneasy, I couldn’t stand the way he spoke to C, how he belittled her, gas lighted her, and basically spent most of his time crushing any confidence she had. C will never leave him, because she doesn’t have the confidence to do it, to be alone, or to know she would meet someone else. J isn’t leaving, why would he? He has perfectly molded a girlfriend that has no thoughts of her own anymore.

I do not want to go into horrific details, I do not want to trigger myself. Let’s just say, he took advantage of me on their sofa, whilst C was in bed upstairs. I was drunk. I am not saying this is an excuse, or anything, just facts. I was passed out level of drunk. J doesn’t drink, he makes a point of saying he is sober as apparently he can suffer anger blackouts, hurt people and have no control. Sure thing, big man.

Fast forward. I return. I get shit faced again because I need the courage to confront him, to tell her. I do. I’ll admit. it was not in a classy manner. C freaks out, but can you blame her? From here on out memory is patchy. There is a lot of shouting, a lot. I call my dad because I am freaking out. J tells her he never touched me. I was the instigator. I came on to him. I’d sit on the sofa and touch him under cushions. I’d push myself on him when C wasn’t around. Now.. I genuinely cannot stand this “man” He makes my stomach turn. I’ve never hidden how little I think of him. His idea of events baffles me. The fact C sided with him? That hurts me.

I cut myself that night. Badly. I cut my arms deep, twice. I cut my left thigh, badly. There was so much blood. SO much. I can remember it so vividly. I can still see it, feel and smell it. I was in and out of conscious. J had left the house at this point, C was trying to keep me conscious. Her kitchen is covered in my blood at this point. All this is happening and an ambulance is en route. I don’t remember how I got in the ambulance but I remember being in there, crying. C wouldn’t come with me. She said something about the dog, but I know she was staying for J. She was waiting for J. I was taken to a hospital in London, I don’t remember which one. I was drugged up with Morphine. I was moving, I was crying, I was struggling. I did not want to be there. The staff didn’t understand. I am not attention seeking, please let me go. I have to tell her what happened, please stop putting morphine in my IV.

I don’t remember much else. My best friend of 23 years drops everything the minute I call her and tell her I need her. We hadn’t spoken in months, we had our own issues, but she drove to London. She spent that time with me. Suzi helped me stay calm, she helped me piece bits together. She helped me clean some of the blood off of me and reassured me I was not alone. I will never ever be able to thank Suzi enough for being my actual guardian angel that day. She well and truly saved me from a very dark place.

My parents turn up, they fuss me, care for me, and let me know I am safe. I was so terrified of what was to come after people knew what happened that I was genuinely contemplating getting fixed up at the hospital, contacting no one, and leaving. Where too? I didn’t know. I just “knew” I couldn’t go home, I couldn’t face anyone. I didn’t want to be the girl that got raped twice. The girl who is in the wrong situation again. I didn’t want to face the accusations, the questions, the doubt. I was going to leave, and wing it. Who knows where I’ll end up.

I was met with love when people found out. I was met with softness, and understanding. I went home later that evening when I had been seen by a plastic surgeon. I needed 5 layers deep of stitches, I had to stay off my leg as much as possible. I had been through the ringer. I felt numb. I felt like it wasn’t real. How do I come back from this? Who the fuck am I anymore because PTSD seems to be my fucking identity. A whole year later, I can’t believe I am still here, and I didn’t accomplish that alone. I did this with the help of so many people. Friends, family, and my dogs. It was a slow process.

I think I am doing okay. My PTSD is still there, still high, still on edge. But I am still here. That isn’t changing. C stayed with J. Her defense? “He has been accused of that before, so he is careful now.” I know this blog is easily accessible and I couldn’t give a fuck if she reads it, if she shows him, if someone knows her and sends her the link. Good.

So, Chantelle. If you do read this, if you do get your dirty hands on it. I am coping. I have new people in my life that love me, do not doubt me, and do not leave me. You didn’t break me, Jonathan didn’t break me. I’ve come back stronger, and with even more of an attitude that you cannot keep me down. You two deserve each other, I hope you stay together so neither of you ever inflict your bullshit poison on another person. I know you need me more than I’ll ever need you. The only time I think of you is, funnily enough, when something triggers my PTSD and I remember his face, his body, my pain. I remember you too. Guilty as he is. I hope you still feel, see and smell the blood on your kitchen floor and know what happened there is on your hands too.

Good morning.

I’ve arrived at work with enough time to have a coffee, and chill before getting involved in the crazy that is office move day. Slight issue today, I am out of cigarettes. This might seem “insignificant” to non-smokers, but they help. I started smoking 2 years ago roughly, I think I was around 25. My dad suffered a heart attack. Seeing him in that state, calling and waiting for an ambulance, trying to keep mum calm enough to drive to the hospital, not knowing if my dad was going to make it through… It all took a toll on me… and let’s face it, I’m always in a sort of fragile mental state.

Well, my sleep somehow got worse (shocking) and my doctor prescribed me 8mg of Zopiclone, 1 to be taken on alternative nights. Somewhere around here, I started smoking. I rarely drink anymore since it doesn’t mix with the tablets very well and it can bring out the worst in me. There is a very fine line for me between “drunk” and “ptsd episode” So I rarely bother. In this case it would have been a mega inappropriate coping mechanism. Mum had enough to deal with, she didn’t need me getting shit wrecked and spiraling. One family member in hospital at a time only, please.

Smoking calms my anxiety, and today is going to be manic.

Getting out of a slump.

This is tough! When I am on my period, my mood swings are wild. I’m usually in a lot of pain, super sleep deprived and feel low.

When it is a PTSD slump I know the things that help. Hot baths, Rolo cuddles, venting to a friend, making sure I sit with people and don’t isolate myself, maybe throw some crochet in there.

When it is a hormonal slump triggered by constant cramps, I am a bit less motivated to fix it. I’ll take pain killers, avoid food that make it worse, and try power through. When I am at work it is great to put a podcast on and get stuck in. That’s today’s mood.

Does anyone else get little slumps and have personal methods of getting out of them?