Monday, August 25, 2008


FOFOY (Fuck Off and Find Out Yourself) nurse training (oh and doc training dr. Lake C).....but there must be loads more out there.

So lets stop wasting out time debating the Tidal Model vs You will Take Your
Goddam Meds, the hijacking of the term "Recovery" by a load of knobheads whose main understanding of recovery seems to predominantly relate to the roadside variety provided by the RAC, and address the important and meaningful issues such as how many wonderful psychiatric acronyms do we know?

I'll start.....

1. hmmmmmm..........................................................................bollox - can't think of any thing yet. I'll put the kettle on.

I have recently returned from holiday with my family. I have not been great, but my black and filthy sense of humour seems to be resurfacing which is a good sign. However, thoughts becoming increasingly difficult to manage, and I know that without the medication induced sleep I'm getting I would be psychotic before you could say, " Fuck it -I will have that extra Quetiapine before I go mad as a box of frogs".

I was warned this could happen, but I thought it would be fine because I was hypomanic at the time. I bloody wish the fluoxetine had been left alone until the lamotrigine got up to a therapetic dose though. My CPN has been advising me for the last 5 weeks to take some time off from work, but I've continued (with exception of annual leave) because going off sick makes me feel shit. However, I think I'm going to take his advice now before things deterioate further.

On a positive note the fact that my lovely acronym FOFOY (Fuck of and Find Out Yourself) that was the entire ethos and basis of my nurse training has been so well thought of by fellow bloggers has cheered me up a lot.

Which is nice.

Friday, August 1, 2008

Going down.

I feel crashingly low. Tearful, and totally spent in terms of energy and motivation with myself. Meant to be going to a wedding which is something I would usually be really excited about, but can't seem to get my self together enough physically or mentally to go. Keep get disturbing images of myself handling a gun, and then very calmly holding it to my head, pulling the trigger and watching my brains splat against the wall as I slump to the floor my hand still wrapped around the gun and my finger still on the trigger. I have been getting them over the last couple of weeks, but as my mood continues to spiral downwards the thought and image of this is becoming increasingly frequent and more graphic. Bizarrely, although it's horrible and upsetting, the sense of choice calms me a little. I don't feel suicidal, I have no plan, I have never self harmed and I have never attempted suicide but I just keep getting these images. I have thought about suicide, but this has been when I feel that the situation is hopeless I nothing will ever change. I seriously considered suicide post psychosis after the birth of my first daughter. I felt that I could never love her, and as the situation could not be changed my husband and daughter would do far better without me.

When I was depressed last year there were times when I thought about it as a way of ending the turmoil and the upset caused to me and my family by this demon. I don't feel actively suicidal right now, but I do just want this all to stop and I am scared this is just a runaway train that will never stop, and the only way to get off is to jump off. I'm wondering about my
meds too. Would I fair better without them? If I could get to grips with this thing without meds, then at least I would know that they are real swings in mood as opposed to chemically influenced changes. They say the fluoxetine made my high, but it stopped me from getting depressed. It's been halved from 40mg to 20mg. I have started on Lamotrigine but I am not yet up to a therapeutic dose. The quetipine helps me sleep, but it's getting increasingly difficult to get up in the morning. I wish the fluoxetine had been left alone until the lamotrigine had been given a chance to kick in.

Because right now I feel as if I am swimming without anything to keep me afloat. I'm scared of drowning because I can't keep this thing away and stop it from submerging me. Or just giving up and letting it roll over me and suck me under.

Hubby isn't happy with situation. He hates it when I'm low and can't handle it. He just seems to be angry and
irritated with me which just makes me feel so much worse and even more alone. I feel so guilty because I know it brings him down which results in him just cutting himself off from me. He's a fixer I guess, and if he can't solve it he ignores it or gets frustrated with it -a bit like DIY. Would would be nice is just a few words of support, and a cuddle. But instead he sits in the lounge watching footie results and I tap away on the computer with tears rolling down my face.

We are meant to be going to a wedding. Hubby says he won't go without me. He has just told me to text
friends to say we won't be going. He has told me to "Fuck off to your Mum's", and clear off for the weekend. he is so angry about this. I just can't seem to stop it. I feel even worse now. Images coming thick and fast through my head as if my brain is trying to tell me there is no way out of this unless you jump off that moving train.

So what do I do now?