The day where I’d leave Melbourne and return to the country approached. I had teed up the new caravan to rent. I had teed up transport. I bought doonas, heaps of hot water bottles and a bag full of heat packs so I was better prepared for the cold, all while unwell. I kept waking up to a peculiar hammering. It was usually just a few bangs and then would stop for a while. One day, I heard three bangs, the number which I seemed to be seeing everywhere. I read a very scary post on social media once where someone reported hearing three knocks on her door at night. Another member said that it was demons and her death would be imminent. The number three is a very significant number spiritually, as seen in the Holy Trinity. I was convinced the number meant something. In fact I was convinced everything meant something, that there was hidden signs and meaning in the light flickering, the smoke detectors malfunctioning, etc. Continue reading “The psychotic descent continues: part 2”
Today has been a bit of a mixed bag of lollies. I finally slept last night, but found that manic energy that I usually get at night was still with me when I woke up. I found myself cranking it up with lots of music. I found a kindred soul on Reddit, “mad-isobel”. I read one of her replies to a forum about mania being worse at night, which was the most interesting and insightful reply there: Continue reading “Today and grief over friend”
Weekends are always particularly shit for some reason. I relapsed with the alcohol on Sat night. I was in so much pain, more emotionally than physically. I felt so alone. I fear I will never be able to fill this hunger inside of me. I took pills and drank until I was hazy and felt like a ghost. The warmth numbed my ear pain and it was nice to be in an altered state where I didn’t have to feel my body, though I could still hear my stomach carrying on. I think hearing is the last sense to go. Finally I fell asleep. I tried my best not to overdo it with the alcohol. I could have done a lot worse. It was no where near as bad as last year’s overdoses, but I still drank too much and it’s just made everything worse. I’m scared my body’s never going to be the same after Saturday’s drinking. I have so much regret, but I just couldn’t talk myself out of it at the time, even though I knew it was toxic. I’m still fucked from my overdoses last year which left me with POTS, a tremor and a bounding pulse. I’m thinking of leaving my alcohol at my mum’s house so I don’t do it again. Continue reading “The weekend: alcohol relapse”
“All that’s made me
Is all worth trading
Just to have one moment with you
So I will let go
Of all that I know
Knowing that you’re here with me
For your love is changing me”
Trading Yesterday- May I
Yesterday I had another session with my physio. He is always so kind to me (he even offered to look at my computer which I was having problems with; I told him I’d consider bringing it in so he can do some physiotherapy on it!). I’m always late and apologise, but he just seems happy I’ve got there at all. He did some more work on my TMJ, and was gentler than last time as he knew I had a few issues after the last treatment. He did admit that he did more than he was planning to last time because I let him and should have been more careful given how sensitive I am.
“It it ok if you take your hat off?” he asked me before he began. I was dressed up as an emo with a black studded beanie. I took it off and covered my face with it. I actually felt more comfortable like this. He preferred to see my face to gage whether I was ok, but I kept most of it covered with the beanie.
Continue reading “Physiotherapy, touch starvation, sleep, adult babies, trust issues”
I feel like I’m being beaten to the ground from all angles. My period adds to the assault, worsening my already terrible mental health and sleep, bringing severe pain and making me sick. There is an ugly physical driver to all my issues. Often I can literally feel all the chemicals/hormones running rampant in my body. Shortly after I got my period this week, there was a day when I was swamped with the worst feeling which I cannot even name or describe. There were so many things I wanted to do- write, sleep, go to the park, answer texts, see people, finish my shopping, open the parcels that have arrived and return the items that don’t fit, clean up my house, do a better job at looking after myself- but I couldn’t do anything, and I still struggle to. These days just getting up and filling a glass of water feels like running a marathon. Then knocking over a glass of water by my bad, which I had managed to fill, feels like the end of the world. When I got my period I had a total freak out when I heard my dad arrive home, terrified of him approaching me. I almost cancelled with my therapist, who I go for walks with. Thankfully he was running late as well, so I had a bit more time to finish the piece of writing I was determined to complete, get dressed and get myself together. I packed some diazepam in case I had a panic attack. When I saw him I think he could sense something was pretty off with me. I tied a top around my head to cover my acne, I had lost more weight, I was dressed up like a little girl in a pink Mary Blair pinup dress with a train printed on it, white lacy socks and tbars. We lay on the grass for a bit and I started to feel my whole demeanor turn into a little child. The park was strangely quiet.
“Can you leave me here?” I asked him.
He paused.
“I don’t feel comfortable,” he said. Continue reading “The fight for wellness”
“What if I wanted to break?
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?
What if I fell to the floor?
Couldn’t do this anymore
What would you do?”
– NO NAME FACES, THE KILL
My ear pain since the otoscope has not improved at all over the past few weeks, which I believe is why my shopping addiction and other dysfunctional coping mechanisms have got so bad. I’ve been spiralling out of control. Last night I was panicking. I had a little voice in me saying “help me help me” as I impulsively threw away $500 and then tried to take back what I had just done, begging the seller on ebay to cancel my order and refund me. I was having trouble contacting them as I was not logged in when I made the purchase. I discovered a super cool Japanese clothing brand (help!) and was on some international version of ebay and made the purchase as a “guest”. Continue reading “You are not too sensitive. This world is too brutal.”
“Do you know how it feels to crave a body made of steel?” Lauren Aquilina, Irrelevant
It’s been over a week since I last posted. It has really just been the same shit, different week. I still have pain and discomfort in my ears from when the doctor examined them with his instrument. It has not improved at all, which is depressing. I worry I will take this to the grave with me. He gave me some ear drops which I found out contains antibiotics and an anti-inflammatory, cortisteroid drug. I haven’t tried it yet as I’m scared to put anything else in my ears after this experience, but I’m getting desperate. He said it didn’t look like an infection so I’m not sure why he’s given me ear drops containing antibiotics. I don’t want to take antibiotics for an infection I don’t even have. I will be seeing him again tomorrow and asking for some ear drops which only contain the cortisteroids. Cortisteroids is something my friend, who has a similar health condition, was suggesting too. Continue reading “Update: ear sensitivity, moods, wild nights, psychosis, hormones, annoying neighbours, losing things, gay bands, alter egos”
My nervous system is on steroids. You don’t know how many times I have Googled that sentence. Not surprisingly, I got another highly sensitive person’s website. But still, I don’t think they quite know the extent of it. People say sensitivity is a wonderful trait, but not sensitivity to this extent. If I could make this go away I would. My nervous system detects threat in everything these days. I have been left with chronic pain radiating down to my fingers from a massage years ago. Recently I started hearing a noise which sounds a bit like an electrical hum or mosquito. I went to the doctor about it a week ago. I wish I didn’t. He poked his instrument in my ears to see if I had an ear infection and my ears have been hurting ever since. Everyone’s confused how such a benign procedure could cause lasting pain. But inserting anything into my body is a huge no I’m realising. My nervous system is totally fucked; it is like having a car alarm that goes off at the slightest touch and doesn’t stop. I have pain receptors everywhere it seems, I can’t sleep, I hear the world ten times louder than most people and am constantly in a fight, flight, freeze, flop, fawn state. My physiotherapist tells me to practice mindfulness but I think it’s a bit beyond that now. I hate being alive. I hate being in this body. I hate being in this world. I’m assaulted by noise even in my own home with dogs barking, neighbours waking me with their violently noisy electric leaf blower, hammering, and basketball game. Saturday night party heads. People are annoying as fuck. Feels like I live in a completely different world to everyone else. Today a friend from high school texted me. She told me her younger siblings have all had babies now. The last I remember of them were when they were school kids, my friend’s younger sister an obnoxious teenager who blasted Big Girls Don’t Cry by Fergie from their chunky desktop computer when I came over to visit them at their old house back in the early 2000s. People my age are starting careers, families and having babies, while I am 32 and have never had a relationship as I am always in survival mode around people and can’t let people get close to me. Feels like the world has moved on while I am stuck in this sickness amber. Trauma does emotionally freeze us at the ages it occurred. People are just wandering around with their heads in the clouds while a subset of the population suffer stuff most people couldn’t even fathom. I just want to go live on a deserted island, or even better another planet. But it’s not going to fix the pain and all the damage that’s already been done. I am depressed and distressed every day and can barely do anything. I suffer for a living. I wish I got paid to breathe. Life is like a turbulent plane ride. As I said in my last post, I have no quality of life and at this point life has become about surviving the days and trying to minimise my distress until I finally die. What is the point in living? I seem to exist just to suffer, and perhaps write a book about it, if I survive long enough for it to get published.
“Depression is
Living in a body
That fights to
Survive, with a mind
That tries to die.”
My dad has always said that full moon really knocks him about. He reports a “crash” after full moon. Apparently emergency departments are bursting on full moon. My friend and I definitely felt the recent full moon. We were both extremely depressed.
I have been journalling for a week now, and it’s painting a pretty grim picture of my life. I don’t fall asleep until sunrise and sometimes even later such as 10am. I am distressed pretty much every day and I experience deep, frequent lows where I rate my mood as 1/10 or 0/10. Depression has become normal for me. I have no quality of life and at this point life has become about surviving the days and trying to minimise my distress until I finally die. Continue reading “Full moon”
hsphaven 