I have had a difficult week. I mean bad days happen regularly, but they are normally just one-off days or hours, not days upon days, and probably not this bad. I don’t even really know where it came from, it just kind of hit me from nowhere and it worries me how this happens. I’m picking myself back up and eventually managed to get some help, but I know things could have become much worse and it scares me. It scares me that I will end up back in hospital long-term, or lose the good things in my life. It was like everything just hit me, like suddenly I hit a wall. I am a very active person, and as soon as I wake up I’m out of bed in 30 seconds. I exercise regularly. I never, ever, spend a whole day indoors. I can’t say when I last did, but it was years and years (except when I was in hospital because I wasn’t allowed out). But there have been a lot of periods of time this week where I haven’t even been able to leave my bedroom, nevermind the house. A couple of times where I couldn’t leave my bed. I just laid there, in the middle of the day, and felt paralysed.
At first I was angry with myself; I thought I was just being lazy and needed to “pull myself together”, but looking back it was nothing of the sort. The thing that made me realise that sounds a bit silly, and embarrassing, but basically I needed the toilet and I was in agony and yet the idea of moving, of walking…I just couldn’t. I was in so much pain and after 2 hours I was still just laid there. I was also crying non-stop and I NEVER cry. I’m always called the unemotional one in the family, which is awfully ironic given that by diagnosis is emotionally unstable personality disorder. I am emotional, but just not in a way that people can see. It’s often not visible. But when I get in a really bad place, that does change. The worst thing I’ve done is set myself up for failure…thinking “I’ll be fine tomorrow and I’ll do X, Y and Z” and then been the furthest thing from fine, and feeling guilty and telling myself I’ll be better tomorrow.
I have also been having horrendous headaches which they think is related to how I’ve been mentally feeling. It’s weird because the headaches started last week, before things got bad. I’ve had two types; one where it’s a dull ache that just will not go away, the other is very sudden and intense. For about 10 minutes max I will be in agony. It starts at the back of my neck and then runs around to my ears and it feels like the worst pain I’ve had in my life. And then as quick as it comes, it goes. I don’t know which is worse. The ones that won’t go away make the whole day even harder, but the short ones are agonising. Knowing it won’t last long helps. It’s really weird, and I feel like I am making them up because who gets a headache for ten minutes?!
I feel really guilty for how I have been this week, and really disappointed in myself. The only thing that is helping that is the fact that my mental health team think that I have been, and am, doing really well overall to manage it as safely as I can. Their number one priority is always safety, and between October and somewhere between January and March that was not something I was successfully doing. It got me taken out of treatment and that is why I am currently not really having any formal therapy, and it landed me on the psych ward. The team I am under were extremely vocal about their concerns and tried to get me into hospital sooner than I was admitted (I convinced the team that assess you for sections that I was ok to be at home more than once), and so I know that they genuinely think I am working hard at things; they would not say it if they did not mean it, and so it eases the guilt a bit. The last thing I want to do is ruin my hopes of returning to treatment.
I have had to spend some time in hospital this week, and the reality is that it might become necessary to have at least some time there over the weekend, but I am trying not to see that as failure neither. I have made some bad moves this week, and I’ll be honest and say that rather than admit to myself that I was disappointed or angry at myself, I took it out on professionals. I mean when I say that I don’t mean I was horrible or anything like that, and it was very brief, but in my head at points, they were the problem not me. I did not want to go into the hospital no matter how brief it would be. I find it embarrassing and I feel ashamed when it happens, and lets face it, nobody wants to be in a hospital.
I’ve had my meds temporarily increased. They’ve given me 9 days worth so I’m assuming it’s just for that long. I hate being overly medicated. Like I accept needing some medication and I take daily long-term medication…but I hate using PRN medication, and I hate that it just wipes me out. I am starting the PRN tonight and I know I am going to struggle to get up in mornings, and I’m going to feel zonked out. It feels like why on earth would I do that to myself? But I know the reasons. If it can prevent ending up in hospital and keep me stable so be it. But of course then I will also worry about coming off them so you can see why I want to avoid them; they wipe me out so being on them is hard, and then coming off them is also hard. But needs must, and this happens VERY infrequently for me so I can kind of accept it as a rare occasion kind of thing. Don’t think I am being critical of using PRN medication because I’m not, but it just isn’t really for me.
In terms of support I can go to the hospital any time. I can also ring my team between 9 and 5 Mon-Thurs, and 9-4 Friday. We have a scheduled 30min call next Fri, but I can ring before then. It’s reassuring just knowing it’s there as an option, and we spoke Monday, yesterday and today, plus I’ve had contact with my GP. Next week my mental health specialist mentor at university is increasing my contact with her to twice weekly (Monday and Thursday), and there’s room to consider having a 2hr session plus a 1hr, rather than two 1hrs. She is a life saver. She makes such a big difference to my life, and not only that but we genuinely get along. She said once I leave university she will keep in contact with me, and it just feels like we click. I feel like we are quite similar in some things and we don’t sit and talk about mental health related stuff all of the time, like we have genuine similar interests and good random conversations. I’m very lucky. (Also she is Irish and I love Irish accents).
My plan is to rest this weekend and take it easy while on these extra tablets. I have moments where I feel A LOT better and while they are brief, they seem to be lasting longer in the last day or so. The not so great moments, I need to start accepting. I make it so much harder for myself by getting frustrated and angry at how I feel…it just makes me even worse. Acceptance seems awfully important. I am also beginning to wonder if covering up what is going on from people is beneficial. I know I blog very openly, but in the rest of my life I’m not open at all so trying to be so is difficult. None of my friends know what is going on right now. But I think maybe not totally masking things helps, and I have shut myself from everyone this week which can’t be a helpful thing, and I think it is tough on the people who care.
I’m just going to take things as they come. The good and the bad. But I am going to push myself. I have to, because if I don’t I would trap myself in my room forever. Sure sometimes it is ok to have a rough week or day and need that, but it feels important to not let it turn into a ‘normal’ thing because otherwise I’d get really bad….so it means forcing myself to do things I don’t want to do. While I accept this week has happened and perhaps I needed it, I’m not going to be easy on myself because I don’t want to spiral downwards so next week I am going to do the things I need to, and usually, do and I am going to use the extra support available, take these meds, and push myself. I know that doing things, doing “normal” things, helps me, and it’s ok to have a down week, and to let myself, but it cannot continue for long. It’s that difficult thing between being compassionate to yourself and understanding bad weeks happen and it’s ok to withdraw from things a bit because as much as it doesn’t feel like it to me, this is an illness…while also taking responsibility and not letting yourself off from things, not giving up. A mental health problem is not a choice, but recovery is, and choices are involved.
My biggest mistake this week was not facing up to things from the start. I took a long time to tell someone how things were, and therefore to seek help, and even longer to actually use the help. But that being said a week is nothing! I used to go months in that state of denial of what was going on and hiding away, avoiding help. I feel like in less than a week I’ve managed to go through a process that used to take often up to a year! And I mean that is what I am focusing on; not just how far I have to go, but how far I have come. It is so easy to forget where you were before, and to focus on the bad, when there is so much to be proud of.
(I don’t mean to make it sound like this totally came out of nowhere, which I probably have made it seem. I think there had been signs this was coming and at least one person around me knew that, and I was just pulling the wool over my eyes with the “I’m fine, it’s fine, everything is fine” thing, but I had been managing to just have bad moments rather than longer periods.)
I have my fingers and toes crossed for a hospital free weekend though! Lots of rest and calmness please! And I look forward to being hyper and silly again, hitting the gym, working and getting on with some uni work! There’s nothing better than feeling like your usual self. I know normal every day life can seem boring for some, and feeling ‘ok’ might not feel like enough, but I think when you are someone who does have very bad times with your mental health and where things such as being in hospital become necessary, there is nothing more you enjoy than the apparently boring, normal every day stuff. Even finally cleaning and doing an essay suddenly feels good when I’ve had a bad week! And don’t get me started on my own bed, a shower or a nice walk. These things sometimes feel like the most amazing thing in the whole world. The relief of coming home and falling asleep in my own bed with fresh sheets sometimes feels like winning the lottery. It’s the little things that often feel like the big things.
This has been an awfully long rant, but I feel like getting things out is an important part of trying to draw a line under a bad week and start fresh, and to acknowledge that you can both be fighting hard and doing better, while also having tough times. One of the most reassuring things for me has been reading the blogs of people who are overall successful and doing well, but seeing that they have bad times too. Seeing people who seem to always have everything together doesn’t actually inspire me or help me any where near as much as the people who are open about their difficult times. It helps me to see the bigger picture in life, and that having a bad time doesn’t mean it is how things always are, or how things always will be, so if you are having a bad evening, day, or week, it’s ok. I know it is hard to believe right now, but this is not permanent. The only thing in life that is guaranteed is change, and our feelings tend to be one of the things that can change the most in a shockingly small amount of time. I hold onto that thought a lot – and the fact that a bad week doesn’t delete all of the good days; they are still just as real.