Yearning for stability

I'm very sad. Today was hard, it being Father's Day. My dad died last July and I missed him a lot today.

I can't put much of what I'm feeling into words right now. I just want to curl up on my bed and cry, but the tears won't come. I can sense them, but they're locked up and I don't know how to unlock them.

That's been happening a lot lately. Me not being able to identify and express how I'm feeling. It's peculiar (not to mention frustrating as all hell) to be feeling something almost overpowering in intensity but not be able to tell what it is, to put a name to it. I've never had this problem before that I can remember.

Also, I've been having weird dreams, and several nightmares as well. Last night was the worst. I dreamed that Hubby was killed while trying to rescue me from an attack. I woke up sitting straight up in bed on the verge of screaming. It was so realistic. I had to take an anti-anxiety med to be able to get back to sleep.

I'm so tired of all this confusion and pain. I yearn for stability, but fear I'll never find it.

A dilemma of origin

It's been a crazy few days since I last posted. Truly a ride on the bipolar roller coaster.

The worst of it was when I was in a panic over something created solely in my mind. That morning I was freaking out and my shrink had to give me the mental equivalent of a slap to get me to snap out of it. Even though my first reaction to what he said was defensiveness, after a while I began to see the truth in his words and I was able to regain control over myself.

Since then I've been in control. No more crises, real or imagined.

I do, however, have a dilemma. I thought I had finally made the no-suicide decision that my shrink has been wanting me to make, but now it seems I may not have after all. He said if it's based on feelings then it will only last as long as the feelings do, but if it's a choice made by my head then it's a permanent decision.

My problem is that I can't tell whether it was my heart or my head that made the decision. I simply cannot tell where it's coming from. I think it's my head, but there's feelings there too.

I've been ruled by my emotions instead of my head for pretty much my whole life. I'm only now starting to learn how to not do that. Honestly, I don't know how to make a decision not based on emotion. I even have trouble differentiating between my heart and my head. A lot of the time I have no idea where a motivation is coming from.

Another issue complicating matters further is that I don't trust myself. That doesn't help when I'm trying to pinpoint the origin of the decision. Whatever I think, I question myself.

I was hoping that putting all of this in a post would help me work it out, but I'm no closer to an answer than I was this afternoon. It's definitely frustrating. I thought I had taken a huge step in my therapy today. Well, it looks like that step will take a little longer. Hopefully not too long, though.

Dance of the fireflies

Here I am at 12:30am and I'm still wide awake. Hubby pointed out tonight that I'm not on my schedule at all anymore. He sees that I'm having problems again.

I did get some peace tonight. I sat outside between 10 and 11pm listening to my fountain and soft classical music. I also got a special treat. There were fireflies in our yard tonight. We don't get them much in our yard, usually only in the fields near where we live. So that was a treat. I love them. They're so beautiful.

Falling into the hole again

I'm tired of this instability. I feel myself falling back into the fucking hole and I'm clawing at the earth with my hands trying to grab hold of anything I can find to pull me out, or at the very least stop my descent. My descent into madness. Ok, so that's a little melodramatic. Call it poetic license.

My shrink said the last several months my bipolar has been very mixed and disorganized, and that because of that there's no way he can predict what it's going to do next. Well, he's definitely right. It has been extremely mixed and disorganized. And I can't predict what it will do either, and I've been living with it for over half my life. Why should I expect him to be able to do it?

It's never been this bad for this long before. Also, I've always gotten a respite from it after a bad episode. At least until this time. Unless this has all been just one really fucking long episode. But I've never had a mixed episode last anywhere near this long. Maybe a couple of weeks. But months? Never this long.

Another thing is the rapidity with which the moods are changing. Granted, I've been a rapid cycler for years now, but never like this. When I'm mixed they're cycling so fast they're almost in tandem - mania and depression on top of each other. Not a good mix, let me tell you.

I just don't know what's wrong with me. Why is this happening to me? I need answers and I'm afraid that no one has them. And I need some relief. A week is not enough. I need more than that. I need time to be able to breathe again.

And the schedule crumbles

Well my schedule has been blown to hell. I did get up at 7 something, but as soon as I ate a bowl of cereal, I went back to bed and slept till after 1pm. No morning sunlight, no morning ritual, I even forgot my morning meds. It's too late to take them now. I just have to skip them and go to my next dose.

I haven't had lunch, only a sandwich that I finished eating about 5 minutes ago because I was starving. I only started supper cooking about 10 minutes ago, and it'll take 2 hours at least. I'll be surprised if we eat before 9pm. I probably won't get my meds taken until 10pm or so.

I highly doubt I'll be able to fall asleep at 11 tonight. Not even 12. I just won't be sleepy. Not with me sleeping so late in the day.

I feel off. Pretty much awful. What's wrong with me? Why can't I maintain a good healthy schedule for myself? I couldn't even make it a week. How do I get back on it? I guess I could drug myself silly to sleep like they did in the hospital, but then I'd be suffering the aftereffects the next day. That was not fun.

My doctor gave me a prescription to help me sleep if I need it - the same stuff they gave me in the hospital. Looks like I need to fill it. Because even though I'm not actually having problems sleeping yet, it's only a matter of time, given the way I'm starting to feel.

I really HATE this!! Can't I get a freakin day off around here?!

An undercurrent of not so good

I feel off. I have for a couple of days now. I don't know what it is with me. I'm happy, for the most part, it's just that there's this undercurrent of something. Something I can't even begin to define, but which feels not so good.

I don't want to go back to that place again. Not so soon. I've only been feeling better a little over a week. I'm not ready to drop back into the hole yet.

I'm tired. I think I'm going to take my meds and go back to bed for a while. Maybe this is all caused by fatigue.

Dead tired

Last night was the first night that I tried a bedtime ritual. It worked pretty good, actually.

I started with a relaxing shower, then put on a face masque, moisturized my skin, did a skin treatment for my hands, and went to bed by 11pm. I fell right asleep.

I'm sure it didn't hurt that I was dead tired. Hubby said I fell asleep before he did. Usually it's the other way around.

I'm still struggling with mornings, though. I'm getting up, but staying awake even a couple of hours later is so hard. I keep nodding off and what little energy I get from the sun wears off within 30 minutes. I just can't seem to stay awake. It's almost 1pm and I could so take a nap right now!

I don't know what I'm doing wrong. Maybe not enough sleep at night? Maybe my meds amplify the tiredness. I'll have to talk to my doctor, I guess.

Looking for ideas

It's been really hard maintaining this new schedule. I haven't mastered going to bed at an early time yet. I've been doing good in the morning, though. Getting up early - by 7:30am every day so far. I think I'll adjust my schedule a bit. Let's see it works.

Get up 7:30am
Breakfast 8am
Morning Meds 9am
Lunch 12pm
Dinner 5pm
Evening Meds 8:30pm
Go to bed 11pm

I've been going out in the morning and getting a big dose of morning sunlight, trying to reset my internal clock. I feel a jolt every morning after doing it. It's like morning coffee, actually. Maybe it's the Goddess and the God welcoming me and telling me good morning.

I'm working on constructing morning and evening rituals to help me get up and go to bed. As you can see, I've got part of the morning one done. Now I just need a evening one. Too bad I don't have a tub anymore. I'd work that in easily. If anyone has any ideas that I could use, please don't hesitate to post them in a comment. I sure would appreciate it. :-)

Another thing I'm working on is a book of things to remember about my bipolar. Things to help, basically all the stuff I know when things are good but forget when things are bad. It's in the planning stages right now, however. Any ideas for that would be appreciated as well. :-)

I'm feeling pretty good. Isn't it amazing what sleep and structure do for you?

Discharged from the psych ward

I know I haven't posted for quite some time. For those who may have been worried about me, my apologies. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital last Tuesday and was discharged this afternoon.

I feel better after having been in there, but I have mixed emotions about the way it was all handled. I'd made the decision that I was going to go inpatient. I'd planned on going in on last Wednesday around 2pm or so. Things didn't work out that way.

My shrink emailed me saying he wanted me to call him at home that night (Tuesday) and tell him that I was going inpatient voluntarily or he would start the EOD process. (For those not familiar, EOD stands for Emergency Order of Detention and is the last thing you want if you're a psych patient - it gets the courts involved.) So I called him at home and said I'd go voluntary. He talked to Hubby and I was whisked away to the hospital that very hour.

I then spent 1 very long boring week in there.

I thought they were going to adjust my meds, but nope. Not one iota of adjusting happened. They did, however, straighten out my sleep cycle. That's the only thing I can account for why I feel better. Now the trick is to see how long the change lasts. I'm going to keep my fingers crossed that the sailing stays smooth.

I know that it's up to me to make it last, but you know the old saying 'old habits die hard'. Well, it's easy to go to sleep when you're bored to tears in an unfamiliar hospital ward that shuts off the lights and makes you go to bed by 10pm. It's much harder when you're back at home in familiar surroundings and old routines with plenty to do and no one's shutting off the lights and making you go to bed but you.

There is one thing that is worse since I went in. I'm seeing things. Much more than I did before. I'm seeing bugs out of the corner of my eye and I'm feeling them crawling on my skin. It seems to happen in tandem. First I see them, then I feel them. Part of me knows they're not there, but part of me has to ask to make sure. I don't trust myself about them at all. I don't trust that I'm seeing them, yet I don't trust that I'm not seeing them. Does that make any sense at all?

I didn't tell any of the staff, though. I didn't want it jeopardizing my discharge. Since it's not putting me or anyone else in harm's way, then they can't keep me because of it. I know this. Yet I was still afraid they'd find a way to keep me hospitalized because of it. If I was still in danger, then yes, I would need to stay. But seeing bugs? No, that's simply annoying. Don't worry, I'll tell my shrink about it on Wednesday, if not him then my therapist and doctor on Thursday. I see all 3 this week.

I did find out that seeing walls and other things breathe is more common than I could have ever thought. Funny what you learn in there from the other patients, isn't it? You definitely find out you're not as unusual as you thought you were.

When I was discharged, I was so happy to be going home. But I'll tell you, when I walked through that door and they shut it behind me and all that was around me was open, it was very strange. No fences, no staff supervising me. Just me and Hubby and the world. I was free to do whatever I wanted, go wherever I wanted, and I didn't have to ask. It's amazing how quickly the human animal can acclimatize and adapt to a new environment. We may not always like the environment, but we get used to it very quickly.

What I need to do now is to integrate parts of my old environment with parts of the new one I experienced this past week. To that end, I have a new schedule now:
Get up 7am
Breakfast 7:30am
Meds 8:30am
Lunch 12pm
Dinner 5pm
Meds 8:30pm
Go to Bed 11pm

I know, I didn't make the bedtime, lol. It's a work in progress. :-)

Pros and cons

I'm afraid that my shrink is going to take some kind of action to make me go inpatient if I keep sitting on the fence like I have been. I gotta tell you, I'm freaking out a little about that. I so do not want to see how our legal system works up close and personal.

So why am I fighting so hard against going inpatient?
1) It terrifies me. Don't know why, but it does.
2) I've always viewed it as a prison rather than a safe place where I can get a break.
3) I'm a control freak and if I go in, I have to give up most of the control over my life for who knows how long.
4) I hate being away from Hubby for a long period of time.
5) Did I mention it terrifies me? Well, that merits being listed twice.
6) It would focus too much attention on me. For some reason that's embarrassing and to be avoided at all cost.

Now the reasons I should go inpatient.
1) It really is a safe place. I can't hurt or kill myself in there. Out here there's a very real danger of that.
2) They can adjust my meds to maybe stop this mixed episode before it's full blown.
3) I wouldn't have to take care of anyone else for a change. I'd get a break.
4) I wouldn't have to meet expectations and handle responsibilities for a while.
5) I could show my emotions whenever I want without worrying that I'm a burden.
6) I could get away from the chaotic environment here at home.

I don't know how I'm feeling at the moment. I'm truly mixed right now. I have the swirling racing thoughts but the anxiety and depression, too. It's very uncomfortable. All those reasons for going inpatient sound very appealing. But the ones in the first list are so strong they overpower the ones in the second list. I swear, I am so screwed up.

It's only 12:30am. What am I going to do all night? If I'm feeling like this now, who knows how bad it will get as the night progresses? I tend to do much worse at night than during the day. Nighttime is when I've always gotten so bad that I attempted suicide.

You would think that knowing that would mean I'd make sure I slept through the night, but no. I had to be cursed with being a night owl to the extreme. I'm definitely a night person. I think I'm hard wired that way.

This is overkill

I wonder if it's as exhausting for my shrink to have a patient like me as it is to be a patient like me?

There's so much in my head that I want to get out, but I can't focus enough to get it to come out right. It's just a jumbled mess and nothing makes sense. A cacophony of thoughts and ideas that just keeps spinning faster and faster and it won't let me go.

The ups and downs are coming so fast that they're overlapping. Sometimes I'm just up, other times I'm just down, and the rest of the time I'm both at the same time - which seems impossible, but isn't. Right now I'm both at the same time.

I woke up after a few hours of sleep and couldn't go back to sleep. I felt like I had the worst hangover even though I hadn't had anything to drink last night. I guess it's from the physical stress on my body from this flood of ups and downs. I'm pretty sure the human body wasn't meant to sustain this state of mind for longer than a very short time. But mine doesn't seem to have gotten the memo about that, because it's not stopping. If anything, it's going even faster than last night.

I was already very vulnerable emotionally. The littlest thing would affect me on a huge scale. This is overkill on my mind and body. This is like running up to a person with a horrific migraine, holding up a strobe light in their face and screaming at the top of your lungs in their ear. Trust me, I know what that would do to them. I have migraines.

I just want it to stop.

Not again

The playing field has shifted once again. This is getting absolutely ridiculous! It's like I'm on the deck of a boat in a freaking hurricane with 30 foot swells! Can't I ever get a break? How the hell am I ever supposed to get a handle on things when they keep changing the rules??

This time last night I was seriously contemplating checking myself into a psychiatric hospital for suicidal thoughts, urges, and intent. Now my thoughts are racing in my head again. They're whirling so fast I can't sort them out. It makes it very hard to concentrate and focus. Ideas are hitting me from every direction at once. I have so very many projects I want to start that I can't even decide which to start first. But at the same time I don't feel like I have any energy to start any of them, let alone finish them. Just the thought of actually doing them is too much. I don't know that I could do even one of them right now. It's just like I was a month ago.

I'm feeling reckless, daring, sexual, extremely creative, playful, spend-crazy, and I want to indulge in everything. But it's as if the universe doesn't want me to have too good of a time, so for an added bonus, I get to keep my sadness, depression, anger, frustration, confusion, irritation, and a whole hell of a lot of anxiety and panic. After all, we must have balance, right?

I'm definitely experiencing a mixed state.

Hubby and I went to lunch today and that's when I started feeling and acting playful. I ate about 3 times as much as I usually do and every bite was simply exquisite! It was like I couldn't get enough. Then we went to the video store and grocery store and both places he said he could tell I was beginning to panic because of all the people around me. There's that balance thing again.

I have so much energy infusing my body and brain right now that I could run in circles. My whole being is vibrating and pulsing with glowing energy. I'm like an engine that's revved way up, but is stuck in neutral.

I swear, this SUCKS!!! This isn't fun. I'm not having fun. Mania should be fun, but this isn't fun. Mixed states are the worst and I just fucking came out of one!!!!! You have GOT to be kidding me! Is that the only fucking break I get??? Let's see... I got to enjoy the mixed state from hell, then for intermission a lovely suicidal depression, now I get to follow that up with another mixed state?? NO.

All day I'd been surprised and cautiously optimistic that perhaps my depression was lessening. I thought that I was out of the woods, that I wasn't in danger anymore. Then tonight I realized what was going on, and now I see how very wrong I was. A mixed state is just as dangerous, if not more. And a whole lot more volatile. I'm much more unstable mixed than when just depressed. And at 3pm I may be able to handle this for now, but at 3am?

I don't want to play this game any more.

In a very dangerous place

My shrink stopped me today to ask how I was. My stock answer of "I'm ok" came out before I even thought about it. He asked if I was functioning at home. I told him barely. I later told him that not only am I not ok, I'm so not ok it's scary.

I'm at the breaking point again. I don't know how much more I can take. I'm seriously considering voluntarily going into the hospital, because my suicidal thoughts and urges are getting very strong. I'm also very impulsive right now. And reckless. Not because I don't think anything will happen to me, but because I'm hoping for it. I'm mentally adding up all the pills I have, wondering if they're enough or not. I'm in a very scary place right now. Very dangerous for me.

I asked him last week "how do I know if the danger is great enough for me to go in?" He said at this point any danger is too much and that I should go in at the littlest sign. So according to that, I should be in the hospital right now, but the only one I want to put me inpatient is my shrink. I don't see him again until next Wednesday unless I'm lucky and he has a cancellation tomorrow. I don't know if I just see him in the hall that he can start the process. That would be digging into someone else's time with him. He probably would take me to someone else to do it and I don't want that. He's the only one I trust completely.

I'm terrified right now. I know without a doubt that I'm not safe. I know I need a break. But I'm still terrified.

Sleep deprevation and cocktails

I need sleep. I'm so sleep deprived that I can't see straight. I'm getting 6-9 hours in bed, but that is broken into bouts of sleep that are no longer than 1 1/2 hours each. No one can get any decent rest that way.

My thoughts have turned to my meds. I have 4 different prescriptions that can help. 2 are specifically for sleep: Ambien and Lunesta. The other 2 are for anxiety but produce lots of drowsiness: Klonopin and Ativan. They were prescibed to me not only for anxiety, but for sleep as well.

The goal is to get a full night of sleep without waking up until late morning. The problem is, not one of them on their own has done the trick. Last night I took ambien and in less than 2 hours I was wide awake and pissed off that I was awake. It used to work for me. So, about an hour later I decided I was sick of this crap and took a double dose of ativan. I eventually fell back asleep and slept for maybe 3 more hours before waking up yet again. I did fall back asleep and got a couple more hours. But I feel like I didn't sleep at all last night.

I'm achey, exhausted, and cranky as all hell.

So what cocktail should I try tonight? I'd prefer to avoid the Lunesta, simply because it gives you a nasty taste in your mouth after taking it. Yuck. And I need to try to balance it so that I'll be able to wake up by noon tomorrow. I have to be at my CBT class by 1pm awake and alert. I could just see it now if I were to walk in still stoned out of my mind on sleep meds. My shrink would of course ask why I was like that and I'd have to tell him. I don't lie to him. He would flip if he knew I was playing with my meds. Say I was being reckless and a danger to myself. Not a good scenario. It wouldn't end well for me.

I know I'm not supposed to play with my meds. Normally I don't. I'm not the one with the medical degree hanging on my wall. But it's after midnight and I'm freaking desperate. My pattern hasn't changed: sleep problems start, spiral downhill fast, and I end up taking reckless action out of desperation. It's amazing what a person will do for sleep.

I think I'll try an ambien, ativan, and klonopin. Just 1 each. We'll see how that goes.

Nothing underneath

I feel empty and disconnected from everything and everyone. I feel shut down. I interact with the world, and on the surface everything appears normal, but underneath there's nothing. No texture, no depth. None of the vibrance that should be there.

It reminds me of the story "The Langoliers" by Stephen King. It's in his book "Four Past Midnight". For those who haven't read it, the brief description is that people get caught in the recent past where everything is stale; colors, tastes, smells, and sounds are washed away to flatness, a mere echo of their former selves. The vibrance and resonance of life is gone.

That's a fairly close approximation to what I'm experiencing. I realize that sounds melodramatic, but it's a decent description of how I'm feeling.

If you haven't read it, it's a very good novella. I hadn't thought about it before, but the story is a good metaphor for dropping into and overcoming depression.

My apologies. I'm a bit philosophical tonight.

Surprise was the theme for today

I told 3 separate mental health professionals today that I had been in danger of suicide yesterday. You would think that would be a red flag to them that maybe I was in trouble. Would you believe that only one of them offered help to me today when I told him? I'm stunned. I figured all three would ask if I were still suicidal today. Only one did, in a roundabout way. I knew he was wanting to know, though, so that counts in my book as asking. At least he showed he cared. The other 2 didn't. And though I do know that they care for my well-being, I didn't sense it today.

I don't know, maybe it's all in my head. Maybe it's because I'm feeling so disconnected from everyone. It's like I'm in my own little world where nothing penetrates very far.

I'm actually surprised that I'm not feeling suicidal right now. In the past, my pattern has been that once I cross the threshold to actively planning my imminent death, the suicidal thoughts and intent are almost constant for quite a long time. Days, sometimes weeks.

Right now though, all I'm feeling is disconnection, emptiness, and weariness. I feel like I'm on hold, waiting for something. I just don't know what. I'm operating on automatic pilot at this point.

What am I going to do?

Today was a very hard day. I'm faced with a serious decision about choosing life and I'm stuck until I make that decision. I can't do much work on the really important life-changing things until I decide that no matter what I'm going to choose life and all that comes with it. Until then, I'm mostly stuck working on the superficial stuff that I've worked on for the last freaking 18 years. I can't keep doing that. I just can't.

I'm having such a hard time making the decision, even though it's a very simple one. Choose life no matter what or choose death. I just can't seem to let go, however. Suicide has been an option for me off and on (mostly on) since I was 16. This may sound weird, but it's kind of like a security blanket. I always have an option. An out, if things get too bad. In its own way, I think it has helped me through a lot of hard times. Just knowing there was another option for me allowed me not to take it. How will I react to not having that option anymore? Just the thought of losing it terrifies me. I really sound like a crazy person now.

In an earlier post I wrote about having trouble asking for help. I experienced that today. During lunch I was so miserable all I could think about was ending the pain. I didn't have access to any means, which was good because I was feeling very impulsive. I knew I wasn't safe. I kept hoping it would pass. Luckily it did.

I'm no longer in danger, but I'm still in a lot of pain. I don't know whether I should tell my shrink about it or not. I know he wants to know if I'm in danger. He didn't say anything about telling him if I was, but am not now. I was too scared to ask for help or to tell anyone. Too scared of the consequences, of calling attention to myself, even that I was blowing things out of proportion. I'm pathetic.

I'm running out of strength. Something's going to have to change. I can't go on like this much longer.

I have such a strong and urgent need to get away. When asked what I wanted to get away from, my reply was "everything". I feel trapped. I'm suffocating.

I'm not getting much sleep again. I feel like I'm losing my connection to other people. Even hubby. I'm trying desperately to reach out and grab hold of him, but as soon as I let go the feeling of connection is gone. That makes me very sad.

Disorganized thoughts

Well, it's official. My mom is in her apartment. And of all days to move her, Mother's Day. I feel bad that I couldn't get her anything for Mother's Day. I don't know, maybe she saw us finally getting her moved in as her present. That's awful, isn't it? I'm such a bad daughter.

She seemed happy. But I'm ambivalent. I don't really know how I feel about her being gone. I do know that I miss her presence in the house. But at the same time it's not a totally bad thing. I feel more in charge again. More like one of the adults in the house. I don't know if that makes any sense.

I'm having trouble remembering to take my meds. I've missed a few times this past week. I told my doctor about it and he said as long as it isn't 3 straight days in a row I'll be ok. It hasn't been, but I need to be more on top of it. I'm already unstable as it is. I don't need more instability in my life.

This post is jumping all over the place, it seems like. My thoughts are disorganized tonight.

I feel bad that I made my shrink worry about me. I didn't mean to. I thought I was being reassuring that I wasn't in imminent danger. I guess my perception of what I conveyed was way off.

If my thoughts are disorganized, I need to be more on top of taking my meds. I was so good. It wasn't until the day I had my biopsy and missed them that I started having trouble remembering them.

Hubby said he feels really guilty about not doing anything for me for my birthday or Mother's Day. I was so tempted to tell him it's ok, but I didn't. All I said was I understand. That was hard.

I'm very anxious about tomorrow. I'm supposed to get the results of my biopsy. I'm dying to know the answer, but at the same time I'm terrified to find out. It's unreal to think there might be something seriously wrong with me. That just doesn't seem possible.

I feel like I should be posting something important, but what's coming out of my head is nothingness to me. I keep thinking that if I keep typing something will come out worth typing, but it's not working. I give up. I'm going to the store. We're out of some things we need.

Disappointment abounds

Well, I'm home from the Beltane Bash. Actually, we left around 9:30 pm or so. Less than 2 hours after we got there. I'm so disappointed. I thought I was going to get to meet and mingle with a lot of other pagans, but no one said a word to us the whole time we were there. There was supposed to be a lot of dancing, but not many people danced. Most of them just sat at their respective tables looking around the room.

I danced to one song. I did it for 2 reasons. Number one, I really loved the song. Number two, I'd made a promise to myself that I'd dance at this thing. I had a lot of fun dancing. Actually, that was the only fun I had. The rest of the time I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't so disappointed and sad. So why didn't I dance to more than one song? I wanted to. But I wouldn't let myself. I was so inhibited and afraid of looking like a fool that I almost never left my chair. It's almost too bad I wasn't manic. Almost. But I definitely would have been dancing then.

I'd looked forward to the Bash since January! And for it to turn out like this, it's hard for me. It was one of the major things that had kept me out of the hospital. I didn't want to be locked up and miss it. I might as well have not even bothered.

I've had the urge to cut for several days now and it's gotten much stronger the past couple of days. The only reason I didn't was that I didn't want cuts on my arm when I went to the Bash. Well that reason's gone. I want to cut tonight.

I feel so sad and disappointed, but there's also an emptiness. Like I'm shutting down. I'm so tired.

Trouble asking for help

I think my shrink is very worried about me. He wants me to tell him if I need help staying alive and that I'll go inpatient if I feel self-destructive. I've promised him that I will tell him if I need that help. When I made the promise I was confident that I could keep it. But in the middle of the night things are different. Fears are magnified and that confidence is shaken.

There have been countless nights that I have needed that help, but didn't ask. Hearing the pleas from inside to end the suffering and wanting to act on them (and acting on them at times), I would convince myself that I wasn't that bad off. That my pain wasn't important enough or urgent enough to require assistance. That I was either blowing things out of proportion or just trying to get attention.

That's what I've always done my whole life. Trivialize things. Focus on the little things while avoiding the life changing matters that count. Felt so unimportant that I wasn't worth anyone's time or effort. That I was a nuisance or a bother. I'm famous for saying "it's ok, it's not that big of a deal". I don't feel like I deserve help to stay alive. Any help, actually. I feel like I'm taking up valuable resources that other people deserve much more than me. I crave attention so much that my soul is literally screaming for it, yet when attention is actually focused on me all I want to do is shrink away into a corner and hide from it, become invisible. I'm so fucked up it's unbelievable.

Every time I've acted on those pleas was a cry for help. But I always held back, either by not taking a lethal dose of pills or by getting help in time, or both. On the times I got help, I was so embarrassed because I was calling attention to myself. The only reason I actually asked for help was that I was afraid I actually had taken a lethal dose and was going to die when I really didn't want to. The rest of the times I just rode it out, sick as a dog and not telling anyone why. You see, even though I was crying out for help, my belief of not deserving it, along with not wanting to call attention to myself, wouldn't let me voice the cry.

So how do I ask for help now if I need it? My whole life I've purposely avoided asking for the very help my shrink is now wanting me to ask for. Am I even capable of judging whether or not I need that help? Can I step far enough back from the pain and impulse to assess the risk accurately? I recognize how impulsive I am. Will that get in my way? And if I can assess the risk correctly, can I overcome my fears and make the call? So, the question is when the time comes, because I know it will - it always does - will I be able to ask for help to stay alive?

What scares me is I don't know the answer.