At the moment…

I’m not rereading this. Blaming it on the hour.

Trigger warning.

I just want to put this down.

Today has been long. R’R asked a charity here if they can help. Why does he care??? So had work this morning, then filled out this online link, work, people.

Then. Last week I took a blood test. To get a blood test done I had to get a dr to request it so spoke to a GP in the surgery, not my GP, but one who is actually really nice. Had the blood test the next day. That night the out of hours surgery called to tell me that my paracetamol levels were high (well, duh), and it took me a while to tell them to leave the info with my GP. That freaked me out and, that night I knew I’d be dead sooner rather than later.

I asked S if she could do some energy work. I’m assuming it helped because come a couple days ago, life seems possible. Doable. Not just ‘I don’t want to hurt others through dying but death is inevitable’, but, ‘maybe life could be possible’.

This afternoon, just after I got home from school, the dr I spoke to last week called me. She said that one of the liver enzymes are high. She said whatever she said, I can’t recall the conversation, just that she would think I should go to the A&E. To make sure the damage isn’t irreparable. I told her to speak to my GP. I had planned on calling him today but didn’t as I knew she was going to.

And just.

Why now?

And I don’t care.

And I don’t know what I want.

So there’s a few points.

Death would hurt people. It would hurt those who would miss me if I were gone. There are some people I haven’t been in touch with much because I didn’t want there to be such a large gap in their lives when I left them. It would hurt those who feel guilty (though they should know I’d be at peace). It’d hurt those it would trigger.

Meaning to life for me is giving. There are so many dreams I’ve always had about making the world a better place.

Those 2 points are on the side of life.

I don’t know what the rest of the blood results were. I don’t know how high. I do know with certainty that going to the hospital would be the worst thing possible for me. I wouldn’t handle it well. It’d wreck my life, and the reasons on lifes side, which I’ve chosen, would be meaningless.

Then, after 5, I looked at my emails. And saw a response from the online service. It was a really gorgeous response, and wasn’t in response to what I’d written there, but to what R had passed on (in the online form you were meant to write 50 words or so. So I only wrote a couple sentences). With an offer to speak. Or chat online. At around 4. Which was past. I replied only a couple sentences that both work because I wanted the response to potentially go through before the end of the day. Trying to write a proper response would take hours. And now I don’t feel I can write a proper response for I’ve responded. And I don’t know if it’s the same person who will see it. Either way. I’m grateful they responded. And no clue where it will lead.

Found the day weird. It’s ironic. That. On Monday I reached out to 2 people for help. I find reaching out hard because, well asides for knowing no one cares and I don’t deserve it and all that, there’s the entire I need to take responsibility for my own life thing. I can’t just find the balance and ask for help because I never took responsibility until recently and I don’t know how to do this thing.

So I think there are 2 charities here that may actually help. And work has started. And I’m trying to stay okay. And get to a better place. And now I’m told that one of the liver enzymes may be high? Like, what? Why now?? And why now when I’ve actually been taking less. Well actually, I don’t know if I have been. I don’t know. It’s just. It’s just.

Some of what I ordered for people last week came today (I want them to have mementos. Know I love them always). When I saw it this morning I was like, kay. Now I want them to get them already. And need to get stuff for those I didn’t get anything for. I want them to know I love them always. Always and forever.

My day has been such a mixture.

On the one hand is all the above. On the other hand I spent my day in a really productive way, work, family, time with a gorgeous child, out with a friend, out with a workmate/friend, lift to my mother, phone to a friend, reading, now writing this at 2am. Productive. Healthy. Good things. And I don’t know. This drs call earlier freaked me out. Seeing I’d missed the message from the charity made me sad. And I say ‘sad’ when honestly I feel nothing at all.

An online ‘friend’ messaged me how my insights during this time really help her. Funny.

Tomorrow is another day.

When there’s nothing to say…

Trigger warning suicidality.

… the past week has been chaotic. Chaotic is an understatement. And there is no way I’d ever write in public what I’m thinking or doing at the time. I wouldn’t even wrote it in password protected posts. Because they could be read. Even though I know most people don’t read them. And I’m rambling about absolutely nothing. For there’s just nothing to say. But I want to out this down.

Trigger warning.

Today’s calmer.

Yesterday’s been calmer.

Do I really want to put it into words?

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t really understand how come I’m still here. I didn’t do anything. But. I don’t know.

In my head I planned what’s going to be with my money. The messages I’d leave for people to get 3 months later.

You know when you’re choosing to live but death is an inevitability regardless of your choice not to die? Or you don’t know.

I wrote myself a letter. One of those nights. And what I found, still find, so incredible, is how I can be so positive and hopeful on the one hand, and on the other hand prepare stuff for when death is inevitable.

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Life is a journey. Definitely calmer after writing this letter. No clue how long it'll last. I'm believing it will be okay. I'm choosing to believe that it will be okay. I'm choosing to believe I won't end it. As I said a while ago, if god wants me to die, I've given enough opportunities for that to happen, nothing I do will cause death if I'm meant to live. So I may as well not do anything on that end. I'm choosing to believe in hope. I'm choosing to believe in possibility. I'm choosing to believe in life. It hurts. It doesn't feel like it hurts but I know that it does. How profound is that??? Life is a journey. I didn't ask to be on this journey. Yet I am here. I don't want to be. But I am. There's something I've been doing that scares me. Some of my thoughts scare me. The planning. The planning. The planning. I haven't done this in years. Or 3 years. When I got past this place then, I never dreamt of coming back here. Yet here I am. And. And there's nothing really to say. Just live with it. I guess that says it all. Just live with it. Until I can get to another side. Dare I say, until I will get to another side. #mentalhealthmatters #mentalhealth #jewishmentalhealth #jews4mentalhealth #jewishgirl #jewish #jewishblogger #suicidalideation #suicidalthoughts #suicidality #borderlinepersonalitydisorder #bpdrecovery #bipolarwarrior #therapistsofinstagram #innerchild #lettertomyself #journaling #journaltherapy #innerchildhealing #innerchildwork #selfdestruction #selfharmrecovery #attachmenttrauma #oding #deathvslife #adultchildrenofalcoholics #acoa #addictionsucks #addictionrecovery #eatingdisorderrecovery

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I just reread that. And it says it all. The hope. The opposite. The everything. Just the everything.

I haven’t been reading most posts on here. I’ve been writing letters as a distraction. They just say hello. If you want a letter email me your address – if you’re less phobic then I who does not give out my address. Not that I care if you’re an axe murderer and cone and shoot me in the night. Do axe murderers use guns?

I’ve ordered a number of gifts for the people I care about. They don’t feel as necessary. Last week, if you asked me, I would gave told you that give me 3 weeks and I’m not here. Not by choice. Never a choice to die. I don’t want to hurt others that way. It’ll hurt so many. R’R said I’m talking like when a kid does something accidentally on purpose. I don’t know how to describe the lack of choice. Of choosing one thing, or choosing not something when it’s inevitable however much you may go against it. Like saying gravity ain’t a force. Choosing not to let gravity pull you to the ground yet however much you hold yourself up you know gravity will win.

Death doesn’t seem as much like gravity today. Like, maybe I’ll be here in 2 weeks.

I called the CMHT to ask when an outpatient assessment is meant to be. The person who answered said they haven’t made an appointment and don’t have any until February anyways. Is that okay? If I don’t get a letter with a date in a month I should call again. I just put down. I couldn’t speak. Speaking is always hard. And what was I meant to say? I’ll be dead in 2 weeks, never mind 4 weeks, so you may as well not bother wasting paper or ink on an appointment letter. I’ll spare you the resources.

There’s a reason I’m going through the CMHT. Asides that any professional I called is either not available, or is fazed by this, or ‘doesn’t do therapy when the therapist will have to work hard’. That’s because most therapists don’t offer crisis management as the main thing. I don’t want traditional therapy. And. If I stop ODing I’m not going to cope. I can’t use therapy. I don’t do talking because it’s not safe. I use writing to process, except I haven’t been writing much as I didn’t want a record of anything. I didn’t want anyone to know I knew I’d die. I don’t want them to hurt even more. Not just would death hurt, but that ‘could they have done anything’. Now that I’m not going to die I can write it. I don’t know.

I spoke to R’R. He got in touch with a charity for me. No clue if they’ll be able to help. He said he cares. I didn’t tell him I don’t believe him for I don’t think it’s fair to him to do that. Tried to get through to my GP to ask him to call the CMHT but haven’t yet gotten through.

Work starts tomorrow. I can’t face it. I’ve been taking less. It’s less of a need. SG did some energy work for me. I texted her when I was freaking out asking if there’s anything she could do. I wonder if that’s the cause of the shift. Of the being okay being here. Of not needing to take as much so constantly. Still buying lots more coz need to be able to if I want to.

And that’s it basically. My world. Which seems to expand and contract and expand and contract. I’ve no clue what of anything is real. I wonder if in April I really was in a better place. Or not at all. And there’s been chantelle during the past few months too. Change that seems meaningless.

Boundaries. I’ve been keeping boundaries much more, and in a much healthier way.

Responsibility. I always took responsibility for others and no responsibility for myself. Then I took responsibility for myself so couldn’t ask others for help because I’m meant to be taking responsibility… I’ve been reaching out. Which isn’t me at all. I was freaking out earlier so called a friend and asked her to talk to me (could never tell her what I was freaking about). And. It helped.

Compassion vs guilt. I’m guilting myself less. Accepting what my reality is more. Like when I’m freaking. Instead of why’m I freaking, being okay that I am. Not adding on the additional guilt (that doesn’t take away the core guilt I live with).

Relationships. In the past few months there are 3 people I’ve really built healthy relationships with. My sister. 2 friends. One of my friends, I’ve gotten to know her children during this time.

I’ve really become okay with what I want, where I stand, re judaism and the culture (I hate the culture. Hate is way too tame to describe the abhorrence, detestation and all it brings up. I wonder if there’s such a thing as religious trauma…). Yet. I’m okay with it. When others bash the culture I can see how their experiences aren’t everyone’s. I can and do see the extremities. And how the culture and the religion of the culture is so different to Judaism. I don’t know what life I’m going to lead with it. If I live long enough to ever get that far. I’m okay with separating it. I love what I see. I love the connection I can’t tune into (because what do I tune into ever?)

My world is a mass of contradictions. That’s another thing I’ve learnt over the past few months of living with destruction. That there is an AND and both can be, and are, true.

Going to end with this image I made. I know this is too long for most to read. Which is why it’s for me. I’m grateful for this space for myself.

E

LTM: 14th September 2020

Dear E

Welcome to a new day. Of possibility. Of hope. Of sunshine.

I just wanted to drop you a line to tell you how proud I am of you.
I’m proud that you’re here.
I’m proud of you for choosing life, or not choosing death- the easy way out.
I’m proud of you for practicing mindfulness.
I’m proud of you for showing up.
I’m proud of you for distracting yourself.
I’m proud of you for focusing why live. (Instagram – reasons to live)
I’m proud of you for reaching out to others.
I’m proud of you for trying to get help.
I’m proud of you for letting go of those who you wanted to be here for you and who aren’t.
I’m proud of you for keeping a lot more to your boundaries.
I’m proud of you for trying to do good things.
I’m proud of you E no matter what your choices are.
I’m proud of you because you’re trying, even if you believe there is only ‘do’ or ‘don’t’ and you’re not ‘doing’. Because E, because you ARE doing.
You’re practicing mindfulness every single day. You’re reaching out to others however infrequently. You’re journaling however infrequently. You’ve joined a once a week ACA call (6 weeks). You’ve called others. You’re writing gratitudes. You’re writing reasons to live. You’re eating more and letting yourself however much you hate and guilt yourself for it. You’re changing your self talk and are more aware of thought spirals. You are here. That is called ‘doing’. So there is only ‘do’ or ‘don’t’ and not try. You are doing E. You’re doing life.

I love you E. And I’m with you always. I will always be with you. I will always love you. You’ll never be alone for you’ll always have me with you.

I believe in you and I know you’ll get there. You will live life.
You will live a life of love.
You will live a life of peace.
You will live life without destruction.
You will live a life of hope.
You will live a life of giving.
You will live a life of rebuilding.
You will live a life of creation.
You will live a life of beauty.
You will live a life of connection – connection to yourself, to others, to your inner consciousness, and the consciousness of the world.
You will live a life of choice.
You will live a life of embracing your responsibilities.
You will live a life without others responsibilities.
You will live a life of freedom.
You will live a life of living.
So long as you’re here, so long as you choose life, you will live life.
You will live a life.

I love you.

Always and forever,

E

Journaling 103 (9) TW

I’ve nothing to say.

I wrote 2 more pages in my gratitude journal. Aiming for 2700 for when I’m 27. I’m weird. This is one of the things I journalled about today. I see myself to getting to 2700 gratitudes. I don’t know if there’s a point buying new things or getting the tooth work I need done, done, because who said I’ll be here?

4 years ago, I promised to give life a go for 6 weeks. Do I think I can do that again now? Promise to try for 6 weeks? It doesn’t help to live if I don’t do anything to change it. I don’t want to do anything though. I don’t care if I die. I don’t care if I don’t exist. I just. Don’t. Care. I can’t care.

Though I want to be here for M, L, C and N. They’re celebrating their joy with me. I wouldn’t want them to hurt. Also for S times 3. I’m tired.

If I promise myself to try – again – then I’m going to have to actually do something to change it around. I don’t have the energy to do that. But it’s not a choice. It’s either one or the other. I don’t think it’s fair that I have to make this choice again. It’s kinda ironic that it’s suicide prevention week or something like that this week.

So how can I change it around?

I need help. And support. And I wrote a list of what I need to stop using when I wanted to and was ready to stop and just couldn’t coz didn’t have that. People to be there. Someone wrote it up for me in 5 (or 6) words.

  • Support
  • Check ins
  • Journalling
  • Therapy
  • Meditation (she meant mindfulness).

If I’m going to try for 6 weeks it means I’ll have to do them all. I am journalling but nowhere near enough. I can get up early each day.

I am doing mindfulness practice every day and for the next 4 weeks still have the MBSR course, and hoping to repeat the course when it finishes. The person who runs it said she thinks it would be possible. I can’t say I’m perfect for I’m not. But I’m trying to do some practice every morning because if I don’t in the morning I won’t later on.

Therapy – SG said she may be able to help. But she didn’t give details. GP put both referrals through (I wanted to hear back from the HBTT for that would give the support and the check ins. They say you can get someone to cone out to you 3 times a day. Asides from anything else. But that’s irrelevant). I don’t know that I wand therapy per se. I just want people to be there…. so I texted some random person – AP – someone gave me the name of to see if we could speak. Will see what she says, if it’s relevant. MaBe said she’s free end of September. I want to speak to her and see what I think of her. Therapy as in typical talk therapy is a waste of time. I don’t do talking. I process through journaling. Will see.

That’s what I need to stop using. I don’t want to stop using. If I’m going to commit to life for 6 weeks it means trying to put into place what I need to stop. Trying to make it possible to live and be okay.

ACA RSG meetings start this Thursday too. No idea if they will/won’t be helpful. Could be awesome. Could be a complete spiral sender.

People/support. I don’t know how to do that.

And the best is the complete contradiction. For come tomorrow morning I’m teaching at 9.30. And the lesson will be okay. I’ll be present and really there for my student. There is no way I wouldn’t be. Then I need to speak to the SENCo and help her make a plan for that student – more like give her my feedback and thoughts. She values what I have to say too much for my liking. And about another girl who isn’t my student who we need to decide ASAP if she wants me involved with her in school (in which case I won’t be at home. My friends daughter spoke to me and I’ve a lot of thoughts. And being that they think way too much of my thoughts they’ll probably try act on some).

I’d feel guilty to let them down. Yet I also can’t care. I do, though. I care so much about everyone.

So tomorrow is the 4 year anniversary of when I promised not to kill myself for 6 weeks. To someone who when the 6 weeks was over disappeared from my life. She is the reason I didn’t kill myself then. I’m not at all grateful to her for it would be so much easier if I weren’t here. I’m not suicidal. I just don’t mind dying.

And I’m kinda sad though I don’t feel sad, just nothing at all, that I’m here. As in back to this place. I haven’t felt this way in I don’t know how long. And if I ever did it was just fleeting.

Ending this here. Really, there is nothing to say.

Journalling 103 (5) GP App and referrals

I saw my GP today. Last week wrote up with him a referral for the CMHT.

I asked him for a copy of the letter the therapist from primary care services sent to him. I called up primary care services for a copy and they told me my GP can give me a copy. Her letter was good. She was really clear about how to go further. She suggested HBTT (Home based treatment team).

I asked him about the referral. He told me he hadn’t sent any off. That he would, and he’d send it to both the CMHT (community mental health team) and HBTT along with her letter.

Reading her letter now I’m annoyed. It’s dated the 6th of July and she writes that she hopes that by the time she’s writing this letter he’s made an appointment with me and put a referral through to either CMHT or HBTT. And that if I ever want the primary goal to be to stop using – at this moment it is. I want to stop using. I’m not sure how long that will last, that I’m really ready and want to stop destroying my life – the DBT team will assess and would want either of the other services involved.

Why do I have to google it all and ask him to do the referrals? And I don’t know if anything will come of them. Her last couple paragraphs were really clear recommendations on where exactly to go from here. Her letter was, is, really good. Just nothing has been done with it until now…

I’m not sure if I should just scrap it and go privately. My problem with going privately is that I kinda want someone to be there all the time. I know I’m not going to cope when I stop taking cocodamol. And I want to stop. I’m finding it hard enough to eat as it is – this is even though I’ve been trying to eat more coz of using.

I wrote a list of what I need, what I want, and what needs to change in order to just be okay living life on life’s terms. Well, I didn’t write a list. I dialogue journalled. I’ll put it into a list as another post.

I’m tired…..

Edit. He said my blood results were all okay except fat something which is normal when haven’t been eating enough, and muscles. I think I may have a muscle issue as it is but I can’t know if they’re lower than they would be, so some day can check them again.

As I walked out I said to him that I can’t stop using until he’s done this because I can’t stop without having any support in place. (It’s just not possible).


Had a staff meeting today. Was freaking out for most of it. Not sure how it will be to be back at work next week. It could be really good for me. Or it could be a spectacular fail. I’m keeping an open mind to what’s possible.

I was trying to and want to make a plan. I don’t know if there’s any point trying to plan how to go forward, what I need or don’t need, if I don’t know whether anything will come of these referrals.

Trigger warning.

Not for under 18s.

There’s nothing to write for it’s all just lies and more lies. I don’t know what’s reality and what’s not.

What’s reality?

Right now I’m sitting on the floor leaning against my bed. I feel the floor. I feel the bed. I feel tears in my eyes. I see the screen. I hear a ticking of a timepiece. I hear some raindrops. I hear the washing machine and the dryer.

I haven’t packed. I’ve been staring at my phone knowing I’m alone and knowing I can’t reach out to anyone for if I do and don’t get a response I’ll completely spiral. My head is tilted to the side. My feet are a bit numb. I’m swallowing.

Not sure what tops to pack. It’s cold weather. I want it to be hot because wanted to wear whatever I wanted without the constraints that living at home, religion and Judaism place on me. I need space to explore, to be. I’m not going to get that space.

Holding a really cute superdry tshirt on my lap. It’s really too cold for it. I’m not sure whether to keep it as it’ll only fit me now whilst I’ve lost weight.

SM was in my house today. She told me I look like I’ve lost weight. Do I? I can’t see it. Some body parts I can feel my bones.

Changing position to be doing a full body squat. Haven’t done that for ages. Or any exercise at all.

I haven’t used enough. And I’ve taken too much.

My head is one of contradictions.

I’m trying to be aware of my body in my room.

I’m tired. I don’t want to say anything I think or feel because it registers to me as lies. And I can’t handle lies or incongruence at the moment. Maybe that’s also a lie… who knows.

Changed body squat position. Not sure which one is better. I still have a stomach. Like, really visible. Weird I guess how I’ve lost weight everywhere but there. It’s not about weight. Weight is just a bonus. Or is it? I rarely look in the mirror. I don’t believe I see in the mirror what others see when they look at me. So why would I look in the mirror? I don’t really ever think anything much of my body either way. I dislike the acne scars. When I look. When I don’t look I don’t see them. People talk about liking or disliking their bodies. My body is just my body. Nothing to like or dislike. Except when I want to destroy it, but then it’s not really my body I’m trying to destroy, but myself.

Why’m I in this space?

Who cares.

It doesn’t really help to write. Especially because I can’t connect to it so it’s not like writing is doing anything or processing anything. It’s just giving me something to do with time. Time that thing I don’t know what to do with. To do with myself. Also that thing I don’t know what to do with.

I guess disconnection is good. I don’t actually care if I’m dead or alive. Rather than wanting to be dead. I chose life. So not like would have done anything either way. That weird thing life.