Tuesday 27 March 2012

What a Funk! When does it end??! It must end, it must!

Lately I find it hard to do anything, even the things that I so desperately want to do and now I am trying to put my foot down. I love my blog, I love to write and why should I stop just because I am feeling sorry for myself!

Not that I was intending to stop but if anything my lack of energy and motivation kept my computer from being switched on.

I had a wonderful weekend and even the Monday wasn't so bad. It had been very tiring but I want to share.

My husband and I went out on Saturday night. I had bought the tickets months ago with much much anticipation  to see Jon Richardson. I absolutely adore the man and the anticipation throughout Saturday gave me a tummy ache! Not only did we get to see him live but we somehow managed front row centre seats. Yes, I know with being front row there is a chance of being put into the situation of being spoken to during the show and that didn't happen. Not really.

This is how it went - The woman beside me got up to use the loo .. and I was already bursting, with having too many drinks before the show .. the trip to the pub before the venue clearly did me no favours. It was pointed out that she had left for the toilet and the fear had begun that if I were to leave he would too make the face and I would be singled out but in a funny kind of way. Well. I could not wait, I was bursting. Before she even came back I was off and out of the corner of my eye I saw the look on his face and I laughed out loud and shouted to him 'Just 2 minutes' and holding up 2 fingers (in a polite way of course!) 'Just wait, I will be just 2 minutes!' My face was red through complete embarrassment and somehow I put on a smile and laughed and joked and somehow made it to the loo and back in those 2 minutes, or so I hoped!

After the show was finished I was gutted, it was so great that I hardly wanted it to end! I asked my husband if we could wait outside in hopes of catching him on his way out. So badly did I want to meet him and to tell him not to give up on love and to hopefully if he didn't mind, to sign a copy of his book that I took with my just in case.

The place was cleared out and no one was out there afterwards to my surprise! A Saturday night standing around in Glasgow isn't my idea of safe or fun but somehow I had some determination to say and mean it, 10 minutes. Well, he did come out and I spoke to him and he was lovely and so so nice and although it was a quick chat he had signed my book and my husband snapped a photo of us. An experience that had really had an impact on my low and horrible moods! He is such an inspiration, one who I do actually look up to and to meet such an inspiration had given me even an ounce of hope and determination!

As for the Sunday, well. It was a day of rest and with a hangover it was a much needed rest but as I was feeling so great my husband and I went out for a walk early morning along the canal and then during the evening we took a drive and walked along the reservoir that was just a short drive away.

I slept well that night!

As for Monday - oh this is becoming a long updated post!

I had an appointment, with being off of work for so long because of the OCD it was a mandatory thing. I was horrified but my husband took the morning off of work so he could take me there and be there for me. If he was not there I don't think that I could have managed it. The questions felt like an interrogation and I struggled to answer some and when it came down to the self harm I was honest about it, but when asked what I had done I became so upset I had to refuse to answer and the man, he was very nice about it.

After the appointment was over and done with Nick took me out for breakfast and I was to try to stay in city centre for the few hours until he was done work. I did try but as we said our goodbyes outside of his workplace we spotted two men running off with an armful of goods from one of the shops. As quickly as we looked away to not witness anything it still left me feeling rather spooked!

I walked down to  George Square in hopes of sitting to read but it was full of people, go figure! It is a rare heatwave and of course it would be so full!

I wanted to go to the cathedral but I could not remember just where it was and my camera batter turned red.

I had enough. I text Nick to say that I was going home. I didn't even stop at the library on my walk home from the train station. Once I walked through the front door I felt much much better. No regrets. I tried and I managed 20 minutes in town on my own. Maybe just smaller steps next time.

It has been rather hectic and as for today. I just cleaned and cleaned and cleaned some more and read. This heatwave has made it too warm to drink endless cups of tea but it is well worth being able to sit out on the patio and enjoy the rarity of the sun in this country!


On one last note .. It is the kindness of everyone here and the comments that have perked me out of my mood today. Just earlier I had a new comment from someone on here and it had sent me into tears and a realisation that one reason for this blog is to be open to others in hopes of increasing awareness and to offer support for other fellow OCD-ers. The more open that we are the better the help that we can receive.

Thursday 8 March 2012

The Long Awaited Appointment With Honesty.

It is surprising how much a rant and cry can help and not to mention all of the support that I have had from everyone around me. It felt good to let out the frustration and even after the sick to my stomach feeling for it slowly faded away I actually feel exhilarated and on the path to some sort of idyllic freedom. I don't even think that I am over exaggerating this and after my morning migraine I am feeling quite productive even if I have only managed to wash the kitchen sink and put on a load of laundry to wash. I plan to do more and I wont get ahead of myself here, baby steps all of the way. If I tire myself out then I will surely fall into the trap once again; lots of energy to no energy at all followed by even worse feelings of self loathing and god knows what else.

I spoke to my GP and it went well. I was open and honest about so much and it was utterly terrifying and I had the feeling as if I had just jumped out of a plane, climbed a mountain and swam across the River Thames. Meaning, it felt good but extremely tiring and it would explain why I fell asleep on the couch slumped over with a book in my hand and the cat on my lap for several hours once I arrived home safe and had a cup of coffee which had done me no good at all in staying awake!

Whenever I spoke to my GP I told her exactly how I felt, how I felt she betrayed me during my last visit when I first spoke about the hallucinations and the threatening voices and how she replied that she had to speak to someone about this to refer me to the right help. It was her duty to. She looked gutted when I told her how I lost the trust in her and how sick I felt once I realised that I just opened up about what was really going on over 3 weeks ago and how I didn't even book my weekly appointment last week because I could not trust her. I quickly told her that I understand now why she has to do what she had to do and I am not angry with her anymore and if anything I understand one moment why but sometimes it quickly changes back to betrayal and I don't like it because I really do feel that she is a professional that I can trust.

My GP was more than comforting and even though I was in her office for nearly a half an hour I at no point felt rushed and I didn't have to leave until I felt like I was ready to exit her office.

She told me that she didn't feel that my hallucinations were something new and she was waiting for me to open up and now that I have we can look into the right therapy and the right therapy will be the right help but I must try my best to be honest about everything even if I get scared. Even though while I just about poured my worst thoughts and actions out to her she couldn't help her facial expressions. The woman looked shocked and I don't blame her but I must admit, her shocked expression made me realise that these thoughts and actions are not right nor are they normal. I suppose that the road to recovery really is a long one .. I just hope that while I walk, jog, run, and hobble down this road there will always be people standing along side it with cups of water handed out in my direction!

Tuesday 6 March 2012

Neglected.

I have been neglectful lately of just about everything. Everything that I enjoy and things that I don't quite enjoy but need to be taken care of and then there are the things that I did enjoy but somehow seem tainted in the way that I avoid them completely without even realising.

I have more than neglected my blog, the people in my life and lately at times .. the housework. Who says OCD is all about cleaning anyways??! Yes, I didn't do the dishes last night after dinner and no, I did not do them before bed. No, I didn't even think about them while I lay in bed for hours trying to drift off to sleep. Instead I thought about the strings on my violin, a tune in my head and moving my fingers along while imagining the first song that I learnt how to play. Yes, I did wash those dishes first thing this morning along with the other mundane tasks of the day and I just feel nothing. Nothing at all. I don't even feel like me.

Wanting a better life, wanting my own thoughts and finding myself easily frustrated when trying to figure out how to get myself back into the education system where as I cannot even get out of the house for things I really should be doing. Reader - if you can feel my frustration it is only because I really truly am frustrated beyond belief! Ready to howl at the sun, do a rain dance in hopes of snow and including chocolate into a must have diet plan for gaining weight instead of a diet to lose the much hated flab that has accumulated around my waist line ever since that frightful day over 9 months ago that I went into meltdown mode. GAH! I could just scream at the world and punch Gandhi in the face. Why, Why?? I have no idea!

I am mad, mad I tell ya! Hear me roar, scream and kick up a fuss! I am an emotionally damaged mess and it has worn me out. Tomorrow is the next appointment with my GP and the last few days I have felt that I really need to open up and be straight forward and honest about what is really going through my mind and that I need help now and I want help now. It is all getting too much and the thoughts really do overcome who I am and what ever way that I thought that I was dealing with it clearly isn't working. If anything it has only made things worse.

Here is me admitting things that I should have told someone in my teenage years.

-I am addicted to starving myself. I binge and then I starve myself more. I used to be at a weight where I could count my ribcage. I used to weigh myself many many many times a day. Stand in front of the mirror to stare at my protruding bones. Wake up each morning to touch each and every rib with a satisfaction of what I was doing and just for fun I would tuck my fingers under my ribcage because I could.

I still have these thoughts, I have come a very long way since those days and it has only been because of my spouse. Those thoughts won't ever go away and I am aware that just like the OCD thoughts they won't go away and I need help to manage them.

I hallucinate - often. Whether it is visual or auditory it happens and daily. I had terrible hallucinations during my teen years and at one point they scared the living daylights out of me. I didn't know what they were at the time and looking back at it some 10 years later, well .. it never has gone away.

I am scared of the dark and often I need a night light. I always feel like I am being watched and sometimes I catch a glimpse of who is watching me. Sometimes they talk to me, shout my name or simply just put me down and tell me to just end it all now before I make Nicks life all the more worse.

I think about self harm - a lot. I have since my teenage years and I still do to this day. Whether it is scratching my arms up to the point where I cannot feel a thing to having to exit the shower before I can grab my razor. It has gotten to the point where I need someone to sit with me while I am in the shower in order to feel safe - as if the thoughts wont bother me because I have someone there to protect me. Often, I avoid the ironing and especially so if I am alone.

... I am tired already and it is really just the start of it. I don't want to say any more about it and already I am wondering if I should click to publish this. I cannot even begin to explain how exhilarating it felt for a moment to get it out in the open to feeling sick to my stomach for bringing it out in the open.