Friday, May 29, 2015

Dress rehearsal or wake up call?

I've been tossing back and forth all week about whether to write about this. Will I be judged? Will people look at me differently? Have I let everyone down? And then I had a couple of conversations with friends, friends who both know my history and know me well outside of bpd/depression. They didn't back away in horror when I told them what happened. They didn't hit me with platitudes. They hugged me, and let me say as much or as little as I wanted to say. So here goes......

Thursday, May 28, 2015

The briefest of hellos

Things are really, really hard right now. Actually, no, that doesn't even come close. I am in the horrors. I so badly need to write about what's been going on, to try and get my head around it, but I'm afraid to. I'm afraid of being judged. I'm afraid that people will look at me differently, or not know how to talk to me, that they'll be on eggshells around me. I realise a lot of this is my own fear being projected out. I just went down to the school to collect D, and was surrounded by familiar faces. I couldn't look at any of them, I couldn't speak to anyone. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to respond to 'how are you?'. An honest answer would be way more than most people want to hear, but my capacity for smiling and pretending everything is ok is at an all time low. So my solution is to look at the ground, avoid eye contact as far as possible, and if it's unavoidable, make it the briefest of hellos.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015


This last month there's been so much going on nationally about mental health, about encouraging people to talk. We've had Cycle Against Suicide, Darkness into Light, and the Green Ribbon campaign is on-going. I'm an Ambassador for See Change. I've actively been promoting the idea of how much talking helps for over two years now via this blog. And yet when push came to shove this last few weeks, I've found talking at best almost impossible, and at worst, useless. I lost perspective, utterly and completely, and I lost control. One of the things that people with borderline are really, really good at is self destruction. Recently, I've made something of an art form of that trait.

I've spent the day trying to figure out how I feel, what to write, how much to say. I drafted an epic post, but it's not finished. I'm really tired right now, and I'm not thinking clearly. I need some time to process the last few days, because it's been full on and really quite nasty. I need to write, and write, and write some more. So I will. Once I've got it straight in my head, I'll tell you about it. And I won't disappear again without warning.

Thanks for the support x

Friday, May 22, 2015

Another new doctor

The hospital came through and I had an appointment with my psychiatrist today. Except, I didn't. The whole point of my GP's referral, rather than sending me through A&E, was that I get to see my actual consultant rather than whoever was on call. Unfortunately, after waiting over an hour, it became apparent my consultant wasn't going to appear, and I met someone new. Again. I cannot begin to describe how frustrating I find this, especially as I only really began to trust my psychiatrist the last time I saw her. I find it incredibly difficult to talk to someone I've never met before, particularly when it's all out of context. I told this new doctor I had expected to meet with my consultant, but apparently there was trouble on the ward and she couldn't get away (UHG psych unit has had a lot of bad press of late). I told her how difficult I find it to speak to someone new. I asked had she read my file, which she said she had, but she then went on to ask questions about things that were very much on my file. She also suggested I try a drug that had had disastrous side effects two years ago (also on my file) which I had to explain to her.

Thursday, May 21, 2015

A most important conversation

I posted a link last night about talking to kids about mental health. It's something that's been very much on my mind this last couple of weeks, particularly as I've quite noticeably not been myself. But my kids are so young, only 4 and 7. How on earth could I explain all this in a way they'd understand, without over burdening them? Should I explain it at all? Part of me felt that in not saying anything I was protecting them, because although we've touched on it over the years, we've never gone into it in any great detail. Mental illness is so difficult for adults to understand, how could kids even begin to grasp it?

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Thank you

This isn't a post about me for a change. It's about you guys. You have been so incredibly supportive of me no matter what I've written, no matter how bad or selfish or at times completely unhinged it may have been. You haven't judged me. The last few weeks, so many of you have mailed me privately to offer support and encouragement, and many more have left beautiful comments either here or over on facebook. For the most part, all I've been able to do is read them - taking them on board and accepting them has been a little harder and is something of a work in progress.

Wanting what I can't have

It's been said to me a lot this last few fays that I'm too hard on myself - Therapist, my GP, my Dad, Hubby.......all people who should know. But I don't believe them. The way I operate, the way I get myself to do anything, is negative motivation, because it's pretty much the only way I know how to get myself going. Should. I don't (try to) run because it will make me feel better, I (try to) run because I might lose some weight and I hate having weight on, it disgusts me. I didn't stop sugar (which has sadly crept back in) so that I'd feel better, but because it pretty much guaranteed losing weight. Did I mention I hate having weight on? I can't go back to bed even though I'm shattered because I'm probably just being lazy. I have four whole hours before I've to go back to being mammy, how dare I waste it by sleeping?

Monday, May 18, 2015


This is mostly just an update because I'm utterly wiped. We came home from Kildare yesterday, and as expected I found the transition back to Oughterard challenging. I was anxious, edgy, snappy and irritable. Mostly everyone stayed out of harms reach, the kids went to bed and I got lost in Netflix for a bit (which is in itself a mixed blessing - it's like hitting the pause button my brain which is wonderful, but then it's like a punch to the head when Netflix goes off and reality comes back in).