I walked a round trip of just over thirteen miles yesterday to tell Mental Health that I don't think I'm behaving very safely. What a waste that was. The only thing I've achieved is to pass some more hours, which seems to be the main function of my day.
Things have been deteriorating for several weeks, and I've been taking random excess doses of random drugs, to see what happens, and in the hope of some short term oblivion. I've also been struggling more and more with the desire to crash the car. Two days ago I came out from therapy in a state of total despair, got into the car and thought "NO, this isn't safe" I longed just to rev it up and crash into the wall of the ward. So I got into the back eat and lay down to try to sleep it off. That wasn't happening, so I took a triple dose of sleeping pills.
I woke up four hours later, and drove home.
It was only while I was walking in yesterday that I realised that I obviously wasn't safe to drive, heaven knows what I could have done. I have no recollection of the drive home and virtually none of that evening. I THINK my husband said he'd called the police because he was worried about me.
I saw some blokey I'd never met before - my CPN is off sick (ironically, with stress) and I refused to see my therapist who I've never liked, trusted or been able to communicate with. He told me I was speaking articulately, had recognised that driving was unsafe and had creatively got in the back. I lost my rag a bit, and said that conveniently meant I wasn't a problem - that I hadn't been a problem when I hadn't told them how I was behaving and now wasn't a problem because I had told them. Obviously I'd only be any sort of issue if I'd killed someone while driving drugged. Then I walked home. I've cancelled all future appointments with therapist and contacted a private one who is reputed to be good, Maybe I should have known that the NHS would be a waste of a year. I'm so tired of going into things full of hope and having them not work. If the reason they didn't work was consistent, I'd know it was me and I needed to change something. But I liked, trusted and respected the first person I saw. I had to stop seeing him because he couldn't prescribe the meds I needed. I then got lost in the admin system of the next service and spent months on a waiting list for an assessment. Finally I got referred on to this service.
I'm pretty sure I know the things underlying this appalling slump, but knowing doesn't give me a way to move on.
They were:-
- the fear of, experience of and reaction to my ATOS assessment for state benefits
- the fact that it's been a year of treatment and I'm still no further on - and out of that year we have only spent two weeks speaking about any traumas
- having a series of things where people had to come to the house, when usually I don't see anyone
- having my husband drag out of me in the course of row about an object I'm scared of, why and hence who my initial abuser was - I've deliberately never said because it just complicated things too much
This was probably just a rant.
Things have been deteriorating for several weeks, and I've been taking random excess doses of random drugs, to see what happens, and in the hope of some short term oblivion. I've also been struggling more and more with the desire to crash the car. Two days ago I came out from therapy in a state of total despair, got into the car and thought "NO, this isn't safe" I longed just to rev it up and crash into the wall of the ward. So I got into the back eat and lay down to try to sleep it off. That wasn't happening, so I took a triple dose of sleeping pills.
I woke up four hours later, and drove home.
It was only while I was walking in yesterday that I realised that I obviously wasn't safe to drive, heaven knows what I could have done. I have no recollection of the drive home and virtually none of that evening. I THINK my husband said he'd called the police because he was worried about me.
I saw some blokey I'd never met before - my CPN is off sick (ironically, with stress) and I refused to see my therapist who I've never liked, trusted or been able to communicate with. He told me I was speaking articulately, had recognised that driving was unsafe and had creatively got in the back. I lost my rag a bit, and said that conveniently meant I wasn't a problem - that I hadn't been a problem when I hadn't told them how I was behaving and now wasn't a problem because I had told them. Obviously I'd only be any sort of issue if I'd killed someone while driving drugged. Then I walked home. I've cancelled all future appointments with therapist and contacted a private one who is reputed to be good, Maybe I should have known that the NHS would be a waste of a year. I'm so tired of going into things full of hope and having them not work. If the reason they didn't work was consistent, I'd know it was me and I needed to change something. But I liked, trusted and respected the first person I saw. I had to stop seeing him because he couldn't prescribe the meds I needed. I then got lost in the admin system of the next service and spent months on a waiting list for an assessment. Finally I got referred on to this service.
I'm pretty sure I know the things underlying this appalling slump, but knowing doesn't give me a way to move on.
They were:-
- the fear of, experience of and reaction to my ATOS assessment for state benefits
- the fact that it's been a year of treatment and I'm still no further on - and out of that year we have only spent two weeks speaking about any traumas
- having a series of things where people had to come to the house, when usually I don't see anyone
- having my husband drag out of me in the course of row about an object I'm scared of, why and hence who my initial abuser was - I've deliberately never said because it just complicated things too much
This was probably just a rant.