Living life on the borderline

Five little monkeys, jumping on the bed.

Posted on: August 8, 2010

Things weren’t great, but I was safe to an extent. I’ve started self harming again, after almost 8 months free, which is bad but. I was getting out and doing stuff and trying to struggle on.

One fell off and banged his head.

The full punch-in-the-balls realisation about my past experiences has hit me. Hard. I’m trying to accept years of psychological and sexual abuse. My feelings, my trust in people, my sense of self have been raped, violated, vandalized. It’s like being in shock after a car crash, only to realise that you’re missing limbs but you couldn’t feel the pain until now. And then it hurts. Maybe there’s no word in the English language that can describe the pain of being violated, physically and emotionally. It’s the most horrible, degrading, destructive, vindictive, soul-tearing,  heart-breaking thing ever. I feel disgusting and damaged and abused.

 I’ve been spending most of the day in bed, crying, and crying in bed. I’ve eaten nothing but fish finger sandwiches. I managed to force myself to have a bath, but that was hard work. I could tell that I was heading up for “something” but I didn’t realise just what that something was.

Mummy called the doctor, the doctor said…

Last night, I made another less-than-well-planned kind-of suicide attempt. I remember doing that, being forced to take PRN and then everything is hazy from that. Then I woke up this morning, tried again in vain to open the medication case, had to get forced to take more PRN and call the crisis team before going to sleep. They came out to see me an hour or so later, and told me to try and keep myself safe for the next 24 hours until a plan can be sorted. Meanwhile, I’ve got permission to cut and the family have permission to give me the most PRN I can take safely, so that I sleep and don’t do anything. The nurses said hospital wouldn’t help but may be a necessity.

The great, great news is that because I’m soon going to be too old for CAMHS and too young for the CMHT… nobody knows what to do with me anyway. I won’t have CAMHS, the doctor I would’ve been seeing in the Adult Services only sees people from 18… inpatient CAMHS wouldn’t have me, it’s unlikely that an Adult’s unit would take me. They’ve admitted they actually don’t know what to do with me. I’m in a warped kind of mental health purgatory, waiting for punishment for my sin of being human and crazy.

I’m writing this because I need to talk it over to make sense of it, and because my last tablet hasn’t kicked in yet. I’m tempted to try something again. I really cannot cope anymore. I don’t want to cope anymore because it’s too hard and it hurts and I’m just disgusting and evil and sullied and bad and nasty and dirty. I wonder what’s going to happen tommorow…

I want to kill myself.

No more monkeys jumping on the bed.

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2 Responses to "Five little monkeys, jumping on the bed."

Ah, Outwardly. There are no words I can put in this box to make things better, are there? I hope that you are safe. I never know what to say to posts like this, but someone needs to say something. It’s soul destroying when you pour your heart out and no one responds.

I am sorry things are shit. I am sorry no one seems to be helping you. I am sorry that I have nothing better to offer you than this comment. Please stay safe, you can beat this.

Lola x

It’s terrible that the transition from child services and adult services is so poor and the services available to you now are inadequate. Not knowing what to do with someone is never an excuse for not making sure the person gets help.

Please don’t try something again. I know it’s hard to hold on when it just seems like everything’s shit…but please stay safe. Keep writing if you need, and we will be here readong what you have to say.

Take care,
Cassie x

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About the blogger.

I'm an 18 year old girl/woman/person of the female gender who blogs about growing up, living with mental health problems and her experience with the NHS mental health services, both CAMHS and CMHTs. Expect plenty of teenage angst and general craziness. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

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