The jury in my head

I haven't really know what to do with this blog for ages.

Occasionally I have ideas, but I'm not near a PC to blog them, and by the time I am the idea is gone.  The way my thoughts come out is far more random than my presentation of them suggests - a lot of reordering, and editing happens before I post that you don't see, and this means my writing doesn't lend itself to a pen and notepad format.  Even for those ideas I do tend to get onto a screen, for most of them I get half way through before realizing that what I've written says nothing like what I want to communicate, I'm in no way happy with it or even willing to accept it as a good effort - again, behind the scenes of this blog is an endless set of draft posts that remain in an unfinished limbo that no matter how many times I return to I can never quite get what I want to say out.

So the blog lies here dead and quiet until something pivotal enough happens I'm compelled to commit something to binary form just to alleviate some of the pressure in my head.

Well tonight is one of those times....



Tonight I'm intentionally staying awake, because the thoughts in my head are so bad that sleeping would only grant them full-colour, stereoscopic natures.
I had a 4hr long nightmare in a series of dreams this afternoon.  It wasn't a nightmare in the sense of horror-movie elements of terror and suspense.  It was a relatively 'normal' cinematic rendering of the thoughts plaguing my head.  The worst thoughts I have, leaving with me the feeling of being trapped, of failing, of not having control, with no escape and being right back where I used to be.  Frustrated and unable to make anyone understand how I'm dying inside.  This was a nightmare in that it was a representation of my worst fears and experiences, that leaves you with those terrible sensations and feelings all day after waking, you can't shake them; the memories you'd suppressed and left behind, the scenarios you've imagined and suddenly had to live and experience in your dream.  And the fact I couldn't wake myself up on it just serves to prove how much I'm struggling with mental control right now.

Right now I'm stone cold terrified of the concept of 12pm.
12pm is the the best culmination of years of trying to find something that can help the runaway trains of thought tearing through my head 24/7.  A journey arguably started 6 years ago, and has been in it's most recent iteration for 18 months and counting now.  I'm trying.  REALLY trying to get some help.  Because it's so bad it scares me.

It's hard to explain how much of trial just 1 appointment is in itself because it seems so trivial.  There are barely a handful of people who actually understand how severely I have problems pursuing mental healthcare, by virtue of being the ones who have been around long enough, and close enough to me, to see the effects it has on me - the immediate suspicion of their questions, the manipulative line of my responses to test the psychiatrist's intelligence against mine, the violent shaking, sometimes retching, in the waiting room and making it worse by trying to suppress and control it so I can look 'normal' (which is clearly absurd given the entire reason why I'm there, but hell I don't want to actually appear like an uncontrolled raving loon to them do I?!), the hyperventilating on the bus to get to the doctors, the nausea and panic I feel for 3 days solid before my appointment, the bad dreams and insomnia I have for weeks before it, the anger at myself for each and every one of these sensations, that they exist, that they are so ridiculous and counter productive, that they are so necessary and obvious.

And at 12pm I have an appointment with the man who gets to decide whether I'm eligible for drugs to try and help this or now.  Whether my symptoms are bad enough.  After falling through the system or being refused without actually being told such 3 times recently.
It's not that I want to be on drugs.  God, who WANTS to need anti-depressants, or anti-psychotics, or anxiety meds, or any of those options?!  For years my healthcare providers and I both agreed that drugs were not the answer for me - the way my mind works and copes with my mood swings means things like anti-depressants and mood stabilizers are pretty much the worst possible option for me.
The reason I'm now asking to consider them, the reason I've pursued treatment repeatedly this time despite numerous setbacks and constantly falling through the gaps of the system, is my current coping mechanisms don't work anymore.
I get memory blanks, I have visual hallucinations that interfere with my ability to do things, I get inexplicably and uncontrollably angry - a kind of unprompted anger I haven't had since I was 17.  I find myself so overloaded that the simplest additional stimuli - like a friend on a phone in the same room, makes it impossible for me to focus on the world around me.
These are all problems that developed since my current coping mechanisms stopped being effective in helping me to manage the various bits of crazy I experience.
And the fact of that scares me so badly I'm willing to say: "okay, I need help, I don't know what to do, I can't deal with this, when you're struggling this much with this kind of stuff you're supposed to go seek help so here I am, won't someone please help me do something about this, so slowly, bit by bit, I can maybe get back to a place where I can manage myself?"

But at 12pm, the answer may be no.  I'm not saying drugs should be the answer.  But I've never found counselling style therapy to be that useful, or CBT, because I tend to be quite aware of my own behaviors and how to recognize their incipient state and how to develop and instigate coping mechanisms to help alleviate them where necessary and by and large, I've already done that  And they're not working.  I've been told repeatedly I'm not eligible for them anyway.  So at this point drugs to forcibly restore some kind of barriers in my mind seems like the option that's left.

And if I get told no, I'll understand.  Because they have to draw the line somewhere, because I'll have gone through that process of assessment and the people qualified to make such a judgement will have done their jobs and appraised me accordingly.

But then, I'm habitually bad at emphasizing the severity of my medical situations.  Digestive pain to me that I just accept and deal with because its a daily occurrence would probably have someone not used to it in tears and considering A&E.  These mental symptoms have been there in increasingly worse states for approaching 2 years now.  So even with the failing coping mechanisms, I've just got used to them.
And objectively, I go to work, I eat, I maintain social relationships, I didn't come to them through the A&E psych team, I haven't been sectioned, and they have to prioritize, so I understand.

Subjectively I'm just a good liar, who puts up a great front because most of my life involves appearing in complete control of any situation.  Without a serious alternative, its saying "you're falling apart inside, you're hallucinating, you are probably going to get progressively worse or it might blow over in another few years, but we wont or can't help you.  You are in fact, on your own, you have to deal with this without professional help."  And that raises a further problem beyond the immediate repercussions in that it's likely to create an association in my mind of "okay, when you need help you ask for it, and you expect it to be given one way or another, but it wont, so there's no point in asking, no matter what happens in future."

I really wish I wasn't good at putting up a front.  Because its one of those horrible situations where because I'm trying, and objectively having partial success, it in fact works against me.  Did you ever wish you weren't the A-student, because then you wouldn't have to get A's all the time?  If I could lose that constant holding back of the worst of it, if I attacked someone, or myself, or if I just ran off till someone came looking, or climbed into a dark comforting crawlspace and refused to come out, then they'd say "you're sick, you need help, come with us."

...But for the next 8 hours, I just have to hope that my sleep logs, the mood diaries, writing down all the voices in my head is enough to justify not having to be on my own



N.B. By 'on my own' I am not ignoring my support network of friends etc.  I know you are there.  You are part of the coping mechanisms that no longer fully function because things are worse than you can help me these days.  By 'on my own' I mean without professional help.  I mean stuck with the strategies and coping mechanisms I devise that certainly involve you, but are no longer sufficient.

VD (might wanna be careful with that)

Honestly 90% of the stuff I see concerning Valentines is from single people bemoaning that they’re single/how insufferable couples around this time are /how fake it all is/how they hate it/etc  I see very few posts from people in relationships relative to the amount of sickly stuff you’d think they were posting.
 
I’m not a fan of Valentine’s, but I don’t hate it.  Even when I have a boyfriend more often than not I’m not in the same country as him to celebrate even if we wanted to.  I don’t need a day to remind me to do something nice for my partner, if I take them out or cook something special or whatever for them I’ll do it because I want to see them smile, I don’t need any more reason than that.
 
I have only a handful of issues with Valentine’s and these could quite fairly be applied to any holiday
¨       The colour scheme.  Don’t get me wrong, I like red, especially deep reds, but RED EVERYWHERE is oppressive.  Like the blue/pink split you can get in Disney stores or the like to say boys/girls, it’s just a horrible onslaught on the eyes more than anything else.
¨       It’s busy.  I avoid going out on Valentines simply because EVERYONE is going out on Valentines.  It’s hard to get a booking anywhere, places sell out weeks in advance.  Places overcharge for whatever valentines package their offering, or else offer those last minute cheap deals that are oversubscribed by people who forgot to organise anything and they’re inevitably grossly subpar.  Restaurants are terrible, the wait staff are understandably sick of demanding couples who want to know why their perfect evening isn’t the sole focus of the venue, as previously stated, you’re usually paying over and above the odds, it’s not special because every other person in the place is there for the same reason and probably dressed up too, and most restaurants are eager to rush you because the more sittings they can get in the more money they can make.  I’m not blaming the restaurants or the staff for this, it makes perfect sense, I just don’t want to be in that environment.
¨       The complaining.  There are two types of complaining.  One is from the couples, who are upset that their valentines didn’t match up with their perfect fantasy vision they had in their head.  To be honest the people that make these complaints normally make them throughout the relationship, they’re just those kind of people so I ignore them fairly easily.  But most of the complaining comes from single people who start bitching sometime before Christmas when the winter boy/girlfriend season kicks off, and usually don’t stop until at least the end of February when Easter merchandising and Spring menus finally kill the tail end of the Valentines ‘period’.  Also it’s acceptable to be single then because it’s the interim between the winter-partner and summer fling seasons
 
In my mind, there are 3 acceptable ways to spend Valentines Day and these are great ways to spend any evening or weekend regardless of what time of the year it is
¨       With friends, watching movies.  The staple of bitter single people everywhere, but misery loves company and friends love bad movies.  Put on Bridget Jones’ Diary and sing out ALL BY MYSELF with full pride while devouring pints of ice cream.  Try not to make blue soup.  R E S P E C T.
¨       With your boy/girl, curled up on the sofa at home, watching dumb movies.  Cook something that takes a little bit effort but isn’t stand out special.  Put on your most oversized hoodies and grab the blanket or strip down to your skivvies and wrap your arms around each other for a nice quiet night in where you don’t have to do anything
¨       Spend a fortune and go to one of those period costume balls the likes of which you only see in movies.  They’re limited in terms of people, it’s different to 99% of people’s plans, they last all night so you don’t feel rushed, and you get to dress up in a really fun way.  Even if you hate dressing up it’s something quirky and different and a good bucket list item for most people.  But this option usually has a price tag of several grand if you’re going to do it properly, so stick with option one or two

Why I'm smiling

Everyone knows it's when I'm smiling you really need to worry, and here's why.

If I'm angry, or upset, sure I might do something terrible.  Because at that moment in time I won't care about the repercussions.  I've disassociated myself from my normal emotions on the matter.  That's not to say the shock of those won't hit me later and even though I'll know why I committed those actions at the time, I may actually come to feel guilty about them once whatever blinding extreme emotional state has passed.

If I'm smiling, that's the dangerous time, because then I am acting out of calculated premediated thought.  I have considered the consequences of my actions, I am well aware of what I might bring down upon myself or those around me.  I have weighed them in the balance and I have not found them wanting.  I am perfectly settled on whatever course I have set me on and I have already prepared myself to face the fallout.

That is why just because I am smiling does not mean everything is okay, or you should ever let down your guard.  When I smile I am acutely conscious of both myself and what is going on around me, and you forget that at your peril.

Turn it off...

So I have this wierd thing about when I sleep. - I sort of exist on 3 levels while I sleep.
 
There is dream-me.  The me that completely believes in the dreamland it inhabits and doesn't argue with whatever quirks of dreamlogic choose to present itself because of course it's completely natural than bunnies suddenly turn into zombies or whatever.
 
Then above that there is a god-me, that sees and controls everything within the dream world and is completely aware of the fact that it's a dream.  It's why I don't have a lot of nightmares.  90% of the time if something is about to turn nightmarish, god-me can instantly create a convenient door to elsewhere, or put a wall in front of oncoming charging zombie bunnies or whatever it is, and dream-me will instantly understand what has happened and use said door to escape into a completely different dream.  I can, if I so choose, exercise almost total control over my dreams.  In practice, I tend not to, just because otherwise it gets kind of dull and boring when you force and dictate every aspect of the environment and narrative every single night.  I tend to let dreams run naturally, unless I want to avoid a nightmare, or find a cute boy in my dream and decide I now want to have sex with him in my dream.  And sometimes this ability to control my dreams is hampered if im particuarly stressed or my head is feeling particuarly crazy that night (this has admittedly, been an increasing problem the last few months).
 
And then a layer above all of this, is sleep-me.  Except that's a bad name for it.  It's a me that is very well aware that it's asleep, and that it's dreaming (or even if I'm not dreaming sleep-me still knows it's asleep).  It's the me that when I wake shifts to conscious me.  But when I'm asleep, that stream of consciousness is still there for me.  It overruns everything.  This me doesn't have regulate breathing or anything, just as conscious me doesn't.  But it's far more aware of what's going on than it should be.  Dream-me is very much sleeping, it has no ability to turn my dreams on or off, or control my awareness, it is simply a god architect that controls the sandbox that dream-me plays in.  Sleep-me knows how much time it slept.  It knows how close it is to waking up or how long since it fell asleep.  I know when dawn happens.  If things go horribly wrong and I genuinely do start having nightmares, sleep-me simply says "wake up", and my eyes open.  This sounds like a great ability.  And being able to avoid nightmares is.  The rest of it is horrible.
 
I know how much time I slept.  Because I was thinking throughout it.  I get some rest from my body shutting down a lot of externally focussed processes whilst I sleep, but I'm not unconscious; my brain doesn't actually switch off.  So that period of my day (night, whatever) that is supposed to be respite, is only a sensation of being halfway there.  I'm deeper out of it than the equivalent of lying on my bed for several hours with my eyes shut, but my brain hasn't shut off, that stream of consciousness never really stops.
 
I've had this 3 layered sleep-consciousness ever since I can remember, which is to about age 6, before that my memory gets rather patchy unless it tends to be about school friends, and I also know from my parents that until about age 3 or 4 I slept fine, in fact getting me to do anything but sleep was an issue!  Maybe I did have this even then, but I have no memory of it and it certainly doesn't seem to have affected my sleeping like it has since.  I remember lying in the bed at 6 years old, struggling to get to sleep, and learning to control my dreams when I did.  And I can remember the bed I did this in at 7, 8, 9. 10 years old (I moved a lot, so different beds for each year, handy for marking things like this at least).
 
Like I've said before, I seemed to fundamentally miss the day at evolutionary school where they taught you how to shut off your brain during sleep.  There are admittedly times when it does shut off, because of large amounts of alcohol (yeah depressants will do that!); because of sheer, unavoidable exhaustion (and remember this is me, so that usually means being up for 3/4 days straight); and occasionally when it is happy and peaceful because I'm sleeping next to someone I love (alas it doesn't do it every night I sleep next to them, but occasionally it does and that's the best sleep ever and just makes me love them even more cause I sleep smiling).  But the vast majorty of the time, I'm all too aware of the fact that I'm sleeping and it's not just that I wish I knew how to stop this, I wish I knew WHY my brain does this, and has for certainly the vast majority of my life.

I guess I'll stay awake then.

I'm lonely.

Everything tonight has felt a little off somehow, and I'm not sure why.  It's not that things were wrong.  Like everything was right, but was somehow soured a little. 

I guess I've been in suspense all day and I still don't know where I stand. 

I think maybe my subconscious is trying to preemptively shut back down my emotional response in preparation, but it doesn't know how long it has.  And even if it did, it seemingly can't decide if it might as well start now or not.  I don't know why and no conscious thought process seems to stop or change that.

Of course I'm not sleeping.  I get so worried and frustrated with sleep these days.  I don't even have the option of knocking myself out.  I've tried for years to get pills or something but no doctor will give me anything.  None of the sleep hygiene stuff works.  Anything that does affect me leaves me out of it for days.  I dread bedtime now and that makes the problem worse.  What I wouldn't give just for the though of a little silence to look forward to.  For all my problems the thing I feel most broken on, most like I failed at being a human being, most like everyone else got something and I missed school that day, is sleep.

Even here, I'm not sleeping easy, and I'm not sleeping well, I've been having bad dreams all week.  Normally I'd wake from these and remember a boy hugging me  smile and drift back to sleep with new dreams.  Now that's not happening.  The lies in my head won't go away even though I know they shouldn't be there and they keep cropping up.  Like at night, so I can't think of that boy and smile, all I remember is the fake bad stuff that I put in my own head to start with so when i fall back asleep, I'm fearful and paranoid and insecure and my dreams run back to that.

It's better to be here with this, but I still don't sleep, hear voices, have bad dreams, zone out.  Just what passes for normal now.

6 months...   How am I gonna cope with that.  Same way I do every night I guess pinky.  Smile and lie and pray you can keep going another day on nothing.  I hope it goes away after that.  I hope I can eventually send half of this to some distant corner of my head marked the past and go back to what I was, which wasn't great by any means, but it was so much better than this.  I'm not that hopeful though.  Which is scary.  I don't wanna get stuck like this.

*sigh* ...I'm never gonna get to finish that conversation am I?

The formatting via the blogger app is terrible.

Paranoia

Today, my brain took a dark, confined warm space that is one of the places I feel most loved and protected, and twisted it into somewhere I now feel to varying extents scared, guilty and intimidated, of what I don't know, and I suspect the change though completely bullshit and false, may be permanent to a lesser or greater extent.  :(

Hallucinations SUCK.

Role Models

Watching The Addams Family at the weekend and discussing with flatmates how they are one of the best possible role models. - They teach you to always be accepting, never to judge something because it's different; to try new things, not to accept the status quo just because - to branch out and experience everything life has to offer; to be welcoming to whomever your relatives bring home for the holidays, however intolerable they are, because they are important to that person; that you shouldn't betray those closest to you, but even if you do, they will still be there for you whenever you need them because they love you; encourage your kids to be creative, take an interest in the things that they enjoy and teach them to take those things and make them their own in some way; that each and every person in our life has their own unique talents, and if we recognize and embrace those we can support each other far beyond our own individual capabilities; Gomez and Morticia are one of the most passionate and loving couples you'll ever come across, daily finding ways to demonstrate their affection for each other and reminding us that you should take the time to waltz with each other around the living room just because you haven't done it in a while.. We should all be so lucky to have a family that nurtures all of the best qualities in each of us.