hsphaven

I lost my special place, my refuge. On Thursday night the police busted into my garage to stop me from wiping myself off the planet I was so grief-stricken. The garage door is broken, like everything seems to be, and I spent four nights in hospital. I am home now and have to face reality again. I fight the urge to do it all again.

It was when I was in high school that I first started feeling death would be better than living my life. At lunchtime I stared at the train tracks on the other side of the fence and fantasied about jumping in front of a train. I became a workaholic to block all these painful feelings. I thought life would be better after I graduated. But it all caught up on me. I was dux, I could have pursued any career I wanted but instead I am unemployed, on the disability pension and revolving through hospitals. Why did I bother working so hard and putting myself through so much stress? Sometimes I wish I had of killed myself back then. It would have saved a lot of suffering.

The other day I texted my friend to ask if her beach house was free for me to stay in again. This place has been my refuge. It is where I fled when my mental health team put a compulsory hospital order on me a few years ago because they thought I was manic and psychotic. I spent five weeks there and managed to heal without any medical intervention. I loved having space to myself where I didn’t have to say hello to anyone when I came in the door and could have a bath in the middle of the night without worrying about waking anyone. I loved wandering down to the beach which was at the end of the gravel road. I often had the beach all to myself. There was a bay that I liked to swim in as it was more sheltered. The place felt like a dream. In the beach house was the Footsteps poem and I truly felt that angels were looking out for me during my stay. I caught a taxi to the shops which were ten minutes away. There was a café which did great vegan pies, and a vintage clothing shop run by some kind locals who gave me a lift back to my house one day as I didn’t have a car. There was a trampoline in the back yard and over the fence was a vacant block of land which gave the place a country feel. I frequently saw rabbits, chickens and kangaroos. There wasn’t a lot of traffic as it was a regional area. I went back to the beach house again, but had a break down as the neighbour was making a lot of building noise. Still, the place had a lot of fond memories for me, and I have been wanting to go back and possibly live there as my friend rarely used it. But my friend told me that her daughter and daughter’s boyfriend are now living there permanently. Hearing this news, my world broke in two. This place was my escape and my refuge. I was devastated, and angry that some people are so privileged in life. Her daughter had been given a house by the sea and also has a partner, something which I have wanted for a long time but find myself unable to fulfil as I don’t tend to get those feelings for anyone. I’m lonely but at the same time I’m not able to let people get close to me. People have hurt me so much and now I am unable to relax around people. I am 31 and have never had a partner. Continue reading “Back in the psych ward” →

I’ve been pushed to my limits. My mood swings are as wild as the storm that came over my town last night. A storm I went walking in. I swung on the swing in the playground as wind howled around me, everything feeling surreal. There is a pattern to my moods. At night I am a different person. I get angry, I get reckless. I try to recruit people to do stupid things with. The other night I texted my friend who lives an hour away asking if he wanted to go to the beach. It was 1am. I would have caught a taxi to his place but he was asleep. At night once the world’s retired I often dance around the study. I get all this energy and I enjoy it. I live off the moon, and my emotions are powerful. I don’t need drugs or alcohol to get high. The other night I found myself listening to feel-good songs like Aqua, a blast from the past. I posted the song “Doctor Jones” to Facebook. The nights feel like a ride. After my big night I fall asleep at sunrise and sleep all day. When I wake up I feel horrible, like I’m hung over or something. Continue reading “Break down, bipolar, nerve issues” →

I don’t know how much longer I can keep going like this. I’m constantly in a state of overwhelm/overstimulation. My very body overstimulates me. It buzzes, my pulse pounds, my ears ring, my mind races, and this evening as I sat in a support group I didn’t know if the nearby trains were making the room rumble or if it was my internal vibration/tremor caused by my overdose.

Often I feel on the verge of passing out, but I never do. I’m worn out all the time and constantly in a haze. I’m getting headaches nearly every day now. I want to cry all the time. When I’m not sleeping, I am behind a screen shopping online or checking social media. Every day more and more parcels arrive at the door. Today I was greeted with a pile of about seven parcels. I must be spending at least $1000 a week on clothes and accessories and, in three months, I have spent almost a quarter of my savings. If I keep going like this, in nine months time I will be completely broke. Continue reading “The past week” →

I’m having a very up and down week. I went to visit one of my closest friends who I haven’t seen for about half a year. She’s had a baby, who must be about one years old now, and I am his god mother. When I left her house I felt really shit about myself. This was because I’m realising I’m just terrible with kids. I don’t know how to act around them. I don’t know how to speak to them, and I know if I attempt to put on that high pitch, cooing voice they will tell it’s forced and “off”. Being left alone with the baby was like being sentenced to hell. My friend put the baby in my lap and commented I just sat there awkwardly holding him. Then there was one point where she left us alone in the house while she put away the pram. It was the longest few minutes of my life. I just sat at the table while the baby sat on the floor and we smiled at each other until I pulled away. I was useless at reading what the baby needed, not noticing that he was hot and wanted his coat off. Playing with the baby felt just as unnatural. When my friend returned the baby charged towards her screaming. I think he was just as keen for our awkward interaction to end as I was. Continue reading “This week: babies, shopping addiction, somewhere only we know” →

I am now content with just surviving life rather than living it. I still have a tremor, pain and heart issues from the overdose. Each day I try my best to distract myself from these issues and ward off the sadness and despair I feel. I am grateful that I am not as jittery when I sit or lie down. Some of my coping mechanisms, such as shopping, are not really sustainable, but they are getting me through the day. I spend my days finding unusual clothes on Facebook Marketplace and depop and putting together outfits. Here are some of the things I’m about to buy. Continue reading “Update: shopping and other things” →