Relapse

Relapse is unfortunately a ugly, part of recovery. Sometimes people do relapse and that’s just how it goes. I haven’t been blogging for the last week and a bit because I got readmitted into psychiatric care after an overdose. I had been discharged for impatient and become a day patient. I was doing really well, then I think the cracks started to show and eventually it went wrong because I refused to admit that I was struggling.I think if I had admitted I was struggling i would of been able to avoid being readmitted. I was a day patient for roughly 2 and a bit weeks, which is amazing considering I had never spent longer than 3 nights at home for the past 5+ months. Althought It all went wrong I don’t want to take away from the achievement of doing two weeks really well, I managed to cope pretty well for two weeks.

Not going into huge detail, but due to an large overdose I had to be readmitted,i had to spent a night in A&E. luckily I was able to see that it was better to go in willingly than put up a fight because it’s easier to leave at a later date when your not under section. At first I beat myself up over ending up back in hospital, I hated the fact that I had messed it up myself. I thought everyone blamed me for the fact I was back in hospital. I thought everyone was angry at me for being back in hospital. I felt like a huge failure for ending up back in hospital. Although by beating myself up I was making myself worse, I was very much stuck in my emotional mind. I was walking on very thin ice. I wish someone had of told me I wasn’t a failure, think everyone’s first reaction was to be angry, and flustered. This was definitely the wrong reaction.

I am still techically a impatient although I am working hard to get discharged again. I don’t want to stay I hospital because personally I don’t think it’s helpful to me, but I also understand that sometimes it’s necessary for my own safety.

I want to work towards getting home permanently and being able to cope within the community. I understand relapse is really annoying and hard to deal with but is a natural and normal part of recovery. Some people have more relapses than others. It’s not about the relapse it’s about how you deal and learn from it.

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My Exsperiance as a day patient!

I am currently a day patient, and to be totally honest I hate it! I hate the ward I’m on, after being transferred from my first ward. So I guess it’s not supprising I hate the day patient program as much as I hated being an impatient.

I come in at 9am then can leave any time from 4pm, often my dad picks me up after he gets off work around 6pm. That’s a LONG time to be stuck somewhere I don’t wanna be! It’s hard coming in every morning, it deffinetly affects my mood! I get teary, agitated and just plain angry coming in every morning which just sets me off on a emotional rollercoaster! I understand why they make me come in every weekday, because it means that I’m not sat at home “doing nothing” although I always find somthing to do after 12!

I attend the on site education that’s attached to the ward. I find it hard because I am quite a bright bloke and unforunetly the other people attending the school have learning issues or simply haven’t been in school to learn. For me school was always my escape from my mental health, but this place makes it worst! I have 4, hour long lessons. Although it feels about 40 hours!

I also can attend the group that’s on after the education session. This can be art psychotherapy group, drama group, gardening group, woodwork and other activities. I love woodwork, it’s about the only thing that makes coming in bearable.

I often struggle to get home because if i show any emotion i risk being kept in the hospital. Its definitely easier to get sucked back in, on the other hand it is good to have someone who you can call if it goes wrong.

A Poem: Good and Bad moments like ripples in a pond TW

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Life is amazing. I have so much to live for everything in the world is beautiful. I can tackle every problem, nothing can get in my way. I’m a kind, thoughtful person! I’m so intelligent! Look at all this amazing stuff i have done, that I’m so proud of. I’m doing so amazingly. I have such an amazing family, friends who all love me so much, I’m such a lucky man. I feel amazing. I’m gonna have an amazing life. I have so much hope and chance in life, I’m going to get somewhere huge!

 pft I’m not mentally ill, wait have i been pretending to be mentally ill? That’s sick! how dare i pretend to be ill and get hospitalised for so long.I don’t deserve all the time medical professionals spend on me. They probably hate me to. There just not aloud to show it or they would get fired but they all really hate me.

I’m worthless. I don’t deserve to be alive. I’m a burden on my family. How do they put up with me, I’m a really horrible person. They all secretly hate me, but don’t want to tell me. How am i ment to go on like this I’m a mess and everyone hates me.

I’m so ugly, stupid and horrible. I’m a inconvenience to everyone. I just get into the way. I use up everyone’s time. I deserve to die, dying is the only way out of this. Nobody would miss me if i was dead. They would be happy if i dyed.

*A few moments later*

I’m so silly, why the hell did i just have a complete meltdown. God I’m so embarrassing! I hope everyone forgets about that! I’m so ashamed of myself, why do i do this? I’m such an idiot for letting myself get wrapped up into my emotions.

A Poem By

Oliver Burns

 

 

For people with BPD this thoughts can go around in circles like in the poem going from high to low, sometimes taking minutes sometimes days. Its tiring and exhausting. Constantly going up and down like being on a really fast emotional roller-coaster, never quite sure what your actually feeling. The people around you and you yourself find it hard to follow your emotions, not understanding how now your in the pits of despair when five minutes ago you where on top of the world. quite often while in the pit of despair that’s all you recognise all you feel, there has never been any good. I have never felt good. However when your high, your on cloud 9, everything is amazing, you think your invincible and nothing can ever bring you down.

 

 

 

 

MIND Wellbeing Journal

 

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So recently i invested in a wellbeing journal, I have brought one from the charity Mind.  I often have notebooks and stuff lying around for me to jot down thoughts and feeling or just reminders inside. I often struggle to keep a “journal” mostly because i was teased endlessly as a kid for being a boy with a journal. i have always liked to note stuff down because i simply have the memory of a goldfish and i always forget everything!

Inside the journal is a mixture of activities, lined pages, plain pages and qoutes. I like how it gives you the choice to put what you want to put in there. i think I’m going to put a mood tracker in mine. I haven’t used the book much yet so I’m still open to suggestions (your more than welcome to leave suggestions in the comments).

I also want to put instructions to myself such as what to do during a panic attack or flashback. I also want to make space for me to put positive things that have happened as so often all the positive things get lost among the bad. Sometime completely lost, even though more often than not there is more good we tend to focus on the bad.

I’m excited to see how the journal evolves and i will keep you guys updated on how its going!

 

 

 

Recovery

 

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Recovery isn’t always a straight path, I never really understood this. I mean if you get better you cant regress right? How wrong I was, I’m at the start of my recovery with my mental health. In the very short part of the journey into recovery I have already done I have been hospitalised, sectioned, nearly got out of hospital (MANY TIMES) AND THEN FINALLY GOT OUT OF HOSPITAL, to be put under  5(2), started DBT, fallen down many a times but always somehow managed to pick myself back up and fight on.

All this time fighting my own personal demons. The 5(2) was the most heart-breaking dip in my recovery it just felt like I had gone back so many steps, to be back in hospital under section was the worst moments of my recovery so far. Its so hard to have your whole world crashing around you at an alarming rate while trying to walk a type-rope. Being sectioned while in hospital way another low point, I had already been in hospital for a very long time but to be sectioned while in hospital completely crushed me. I never thought I was unwell enough to actually be sectioned. I mean I was aware of what was happening, sectioning is for people who are not  able to make decisions for themselves.

The have been ups in my recovery, where I have made huge steps in the right direction such as going back to where traumatic events happened in my life and being able to keep myself safe. Being discharged from hospital was another amazing high of my recovery. At times I felt like I would never be able to be discharged from hospital, I thought I would stay in hospital my whole life. I’m so proud to say I have been discharged. Starting DBT therapy is amazing because so many people who were in my position wouldn’t of reached that point. Even the small achievements such as getting unescorted leave and home leave were amazing achievements.

I am nowhere near the end of my journey of recovery, for some people they spend there whole life recovering and that’s okay. I’m glad I have made it this far. If I can make it this far I can make it further right? If I have picked myself up from the pits of despair I can do it again right?

Sixth Form reintegration TW talk of self-harm

Today I went back to my Sixth Form for the afternoon as part of my reintegration back into education. I have very mixed emotions about the afternoon. It was nice to be back to a place of safety, a place that kept me on track in my darker days, however this place was ripped from me when I was put into hospital. Today was hard reliving all of that sat in the room where a fantasised about taking my own life so many times.

It was hard being around people but feeling so alone. it was like I was I’m in my own hamster ball and speaking a ancient lost language that nobody else understands. I don’t understand the social interactions others make. I don’t understand the rules of social interaction. I don’t fit in there at all, I don’t really fit in anywhere. I’m scared I’m never going to reintegrate into sixth form after spending so long locked away from the real world. I’m terrified of others thinking I’m a freak or somehow dangerous because of being sectioned.

I am scared of not being able to keep up with my studies and ending up in this mess all over again. I was on the verge of a panic attack the entire time, trying to hold it together just not to look like a freak. I got home and had to sit in my self sooth courner, unfortunetly my arm didn’t quite survie without being wounded, I’m terrified of starting back at sixth-form. I honestly don’t know if I’m ready or not.

Other peoples reactions to behaviours can be more distressing than the actual behaviour itself TW: Self-harm

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Having a mental health issue can be very isolating, its ironic because people with mental health issues need the most help and support and often people with mental health issues are the most isolated.

My BPD can make me behave in ways that others see as concerning, annoying or simply don’t know how to react to the behaviour. I find that people reacting in the wrong way can make me feel worst than the actual behaviour makes me feel.

I head-bang when I’m overwhelmed or hearing things. Once I start head-bang its very hard for me to stop. Overwhelming me more will not stop me from head-banging, if anything it makes the head-banging even worst. I hate this behaviour because its nosey and isn’t really easily hideable. I often get horrible bruises and grazes on my head from head-banging. I find that I need someone to move me away from the surface I’m banging my head against and holding my me/my head until I have calmed down. Often people just stare or worst shout at me for doing this. People struggle to understand how little control I have over this behaviour.

I also scratch the back of my hands till it bleeds, this one I often don’t realise I’m doing It until it starts to bleed, unfortunately this means the backs of my hands are very scared from picking away at my own skin. People often react negatively to the scars on the backs of my hands. Its difficult to hide the scars on my hands, people will stare at my hands, especially when giving money over to cashiers or reaching out to get something. This makes me extremely self-conscious, I wish my hands weren’t scared from my constant scratching.

cutting has a huge stigma around it, people often stare at self-harm scars. Cutting is the most well known form of self-harm. people often fail to see the huge amount of emotional pain a person must be feeling in order to physically harm themselves. people fail to see how hard it is to stop cutting, telling someone to just stop completely undermines and invalidates the emotional struggle a person is facing. People responding negatively to my self-harm made me feel worst and increased my self-harm and made me more secretive about my self-harm.

I can get very upset very quickly, I can be completely drowned in my own emotions in seconds, others are often shocked or unnerved how I can go from completely fine to emotional breakdown in a matter of seconds. This unpredictability  can cause people around me to avoid me. It can cause me to be isolated. Part of BPD is unpredictable relationships I can idolise one minute then absolutely hate them the next. This can be exhausting for others to be constantly pulled and then pushed away, but its also extremal exhausting for me.

If someone you know has mental health issues, they really need your support and care. Even being there to say hello can make the world of difference. Often people don’t realise there doing it but staring at scars or us when were having a difficult time makes us extremely uncomfortable and self-concious. we are people not objects in a museum. Ask us what you can do to help us, or just being understanding when were having a hard time.