Monday, 12 May 2014

Brain Drain

It has been rather a long time since I last wrote anything on here (not that I haven't been meaning to.) Nothing specifically eventful has happened which has made it even more difficult for me to write.

Mainly, I've been plagued by continuing face pain making it difficult to get through the day. I'm not talking normal "I'll take some painkillers and it'll go away" pain; I'm talking 2 minutes max of extreme debilitating pain that actually makes me curl up into a little ball (I'm not sure how that would help - it's just an automatic response.)

I have actually been down to Dublin since I last wrote for an MRI. Quite a terrifying experience, made worse by me taking an extra 80mg Propranolol in hopes it would make me less anxious...

Actually, it made it impossible for them to find a vein for the dye and resulted in a very painful burst vein after the nurses called a doctor down to try. He told me at the time it would leave a very impressive bruise and he was right. If you're into that kinda thing here's a picture taken when I got home that day and here's one 2 days after.

As I said, the experience was quite scary even without the whole vein thing. Everyone was so nice though. It was a private clinic because the NHS list for an MRI scan was so long and they were outsourcing some down south. A very tiring day overall, I'm not used to travelling so far but my dad was there for me as he always is.

Another major event was visiting my month-and-a-bit old nephew in Malta at the end of February. Much anxiety but the weather was cool enough for me to get away with wearing a cardigan most of the time without sweating profusely. I wasn't feeling too great a lot of the time - I'll put it down to medication and a change of air - but I was alright aside from a few mild anxiety attacks (the first night sitting alone in my hotel room was the worst).

At the airport coming back I felt the stares of about 50 people in one room as I stood in the middle sleeveless. I know, realistically, many were too busy to notice me - I don't exactly scream out for attention. The feeling I get in that situation though is horrendous.

The worst part is I can feel every inch of pity people have for someone like me. "Aww poor girl" or even some "that's a lot of times to miss a vein"... ha. That's what I'd think, anyway.

More than anything, recently I've been trying to avoid any contact at all outside these four walls. I go and see my social worker, I see a psychiatrist when they want me to, I see my counsellor, I go for my medication every week, I see my boyfriend, anything more is unnecessary. Unless it's a situation where "if I don't do this, no-one else will", I avoid anything I possibly can.

My mood over the last few months has reached a new low. I spend a week or maybe two (if I'm lucky) just "going with the flow", nothing particularly on my mind, not focused on anything...

...then it turns. Gradually I actively think about things. I doubt things. I think about my future (or lack thereof.) I see little point in being around. I don't feel like it'd make much of a difference if I weren't around. I think it might even be easier for everyone if I wasn't. I remember things that have happened and I think of what I did to warrant them (because each and every time I can think of a reason I deserved them.)

The cutting has worsened. Well. In a way. One time required "medical attention", I guess that's the best way of putting it. No stitches needed since they saw it a couple days after it initially happened. It's healed quite well actually considering how it was. I should point out this is the one and only time in my 10 years or so of self harm that I had to get a nurse to look at it. That's an indicator of the point things are at.

The psychiatrist says my social worker is to see me a fair bit right now because of how I am. I think they're also hoping the Lyrica I've been put on to supplement the Tegretol will help my mood and anxiety (I forgot to mention my blood was tested to see if the Tegretol could be upped any more for my face... my blood levels showed that 1200mg a day was the max I could have of it.)

My life revolves around drugs right now: taking them at the right time, dealing with the side effects, self medicating to get to sleep, self medicating to stop anxiety... I've stopped cutting so much, replaced that with medication. That's something my mental health workers aren't too happy about. They'd rather I be cutting myself than giving myself liver damage. Liver damage is much easier to hide from others though isn't it?

I think I've covered pretty much everything that's happened/happening right now. I do realise I need to keep up the whole "blogging" thing... it's something that helps to keep my brain healthy at the very least.