I’m actually doing okay today

I had a really good day today. The whole day was spent with my husband with the exception of one hour. That hour was at a job interview. I really hope it went well. I’ve got my heart set on this job. And I really need it so we can pay the bills.
Even if I don’t get it, I won’t regret today. Being out with my husband was so fun! It’s really lifted my mood. I feel happy today!

Drinking the night away

I drank again tonight.  I drank the whole bottle of wine.  It’s been ages since I’ve done that.  Thankfully, I wasn’t tempted to cut or OD despite my husband being gone.  I played a video game and chatted with a few folks on Skype.

I’m actually doing okay tonight.  Tomorrow will be a different story because I’m going to try to go back to work.  Tonight, I’m thankful for the pe0ple I’ve met online & chat with on Skype.

Great… just great

Tonight I’ve learned that my husband isn’t going to be starting his job anytime soon.  There’s some kind of hang-up in the hiring process.  This means our financial troubles aren’t going to be over any time soon.  I’m so excited.  Can you tell?

We’re coming up on our anniversary and we can’t even afford to do anything.  I feel a bit upset with him.  Mostly because he spent months unemployed and not even attempting to look for a job.  He just waited until one landed in his lap.  It’s put us in a very sticky financial situation and I’m very anxious about it.  It’s eating me up.  I also feel guilty for feeling this way, especially as we near our anniversary.

So tonight I’m drinking away my sorrows.  Not healthy.  I know.  I’m not an alcoholic.  I actually hardly ever drink.  But I’ll probably do this again tomorrow night.  Just for some sort of relief from the anxiety and the depression and the pain.  It’s either drink or go back to considering ODing and/or cutting.

A little bit of help along the way

I’m still struggling.  I’m in a deep, deep place.  I’ve been letting the dishes pile up, the house get messy, and myself get filthy.  I’m having trouble managing to do anything that involves moving from my bed or my sofa.  Over the past few weeks, though, I’ve found something that’s helping me do the little daily things.  It’s called DailyFeats, a website that lets you create goals and add steps to achieve those goals.

In an attempt to cope with depression, I’ve just made general lists and have added steps (feats) to them that will help me improve.  My lists are money, health, career and clean home.  A few of my feats are turning off unused lights (to save money & energy), eating leftovers and not wasting food (to save money & help the environment), washing the dishes and doing laundry (to help keep my flat clean), and getting some sunlight and reading (to lift my mood).

It might sound silly, but it’s amazing how much it’s helping me keep myself at least in a steady place rather than falling further into my pit.  You get points for each feat you accomplish and points can be traded in for rewards like money off shopping at stores.  At the moment all the rewards seem to be American.  I’m hoping they’ll add some rewards for other countries soon or that I can find an equivalent for the UK (if you know of one, please let me know).  Right now, though, it’s not even about the rewards the website offers me.  Just having a list to remind me of things I need to do to carry on and accumulating points is reward enough.  Seeing my points go up helps me see how much progress I’m making.  It may not always feel like it, but I can see the proof on the website.  And heck, when I’m in a better place (I know I’ll get there eventually), I might even trade in my rewards and order something from America as a big treat to myself.

Made it to the end of the week

Well I’ve made it to the end of the week and haven’t done anything dumb.  I’ve asked my husband to help me make an appointment with my doctor.  Hopefully I can express my frustration and get some more serious help.  I’m not putting too much faith in it, but it’s worth a shot.

My husband made me go out of the house today.  We went into town and put some money in the bank, which does offer a little bit of relief to know that while we’re still struggling financially, we’ll survive at least another month.  It did feel a little bit nice to be out of the house, but the whole time I just really wanted to be back home.  I was so glad when we made it back and I could crawl back into bed.

I’ve got a new video game to distract me from my spiraling thoughts and feelings.  I’m still feeling quite desperate, though.  I missed more days at work.  Thankfully, they understand depression, but I still feel really crap that I’m not even able to go to the job I love because I feel so… dark.  I hope next week I’m able to go back even if I’m still feeling shitty.

This is my depression blog

I’ve heard good things about coping with depression through blogging.  Problem is, I work in the mental health industry.  I help other people cope with their depression and encourage them to talk about it and ask for help, but when it comes to my own depression, I’m afraid to take my own advice.  It just feels wrong.  I work in mental health.  I know lots of facts.  I help other people.  I shouldn’t suffer from it myself.  I’m desperate, though.  I’ve got to do something.  So I’ll try keeping this blog & hope to goodness it stays anonymous.

Last night I thought very seriously about overdosing.  I did all the research online to make sure I’d just end up in the emergency room and not actually die.  I also pulled up a few tabs with crisis line numbers.  I thought about calling one, but didn’t want to because I hadn’t taken a shower in 2 days so my hair was greasy.  I ended up calling my husband and he came home to be with me.  I cried a lot.  I slept.  I missed work today.  I feel guilty because I LOVE my job.  I just couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed.

I’m still thinking about doing something drastic.  I don’t want to die.  I just want help.  Serious help.  The NHS has been absolutely useless in helping me, though.  And the NHS is my only choice.  We hardly have money to eat.  We certainly can’t afford private treatment.

A few months ago I went to the doctor and told her I was thinking about jumping in front of a car.  I assured her I didn’t want to die and would never actually do it, but the thoughts and strong desire were there.  She referred me to counseling.  I also asked her to change my medication because I’d been on it for several years and felt it wasn’t working any more.  After about 4 different visits… with her telling me to just keep trying to stay on my medication, she finally agreed to change my meds.  I don’t know if they’ve stopped working already or if I’m just lower than my medication can cope with.  I went to counseling once.

My experience with the NHS counseling service was absolute shit.  After a phone consultation with someone clearly in a call centre (and there’s no way they had any psych. qualifications), I was told I needed Cognitive-Behavioural Therapy (CBT).  On countless occasions, we got letters saying they’d tried to call us but couldn’t reach us.  We never got any phone calls.  I even called twice and made sure they had the right phone numbers for us and that they had all of our phone numbers so they had 3 different numbers to get in touch with us.  We still have never received a call.  After waiting about 3 months, one of the letters confirmed my appointment.  I went.  It cost £8 taxi each way to get there because it was in such an inaccessible location for us.  We don’t have a car, so we’re reliant on public transportation.  When I got there, they said, “Oh we tried to call you.  The appointment is cancelled.”  I went home having wasted £16 and no closer to getting help.  They sent me a letter a few days later giving me a new appointment (still saying they couldn’t reach me by phone).  I was prepared to go, but the day of my appointment I got another letter (AGAIN saying they couldn’t reach me by phone) saying that my appointment had to be rescheduled again.  A few weeks later, I got another letter (you know the whole “we couldn’t reach you by phone” shit by now) with my new new appointment.  I went.  £16 spent.  The counselor gave me crisis line numbers.  We talked a little.  I didn’t like her.  She didn’t seem to give a rat’s ass about me.  I didn’t go again.

Now I’m here… quickly approaching rock bottom… still trying to resist overdosing… still trying to resist starting to self-harm again.  I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to get the help I need.  I don’t want to die.  I just want help, but it looks like in order to get the help I need, I’ll have to do something drastic.