Tag Archives: travel

Holiday

So I’m on holiday at the moment. So far I have survived the flight, and managed the supermarket with mum and Tayla. I even went to get a haircut with mums hairdresser at her house,  which was actually really good, because she didn’t have a mirror sitting in front of me, and mum did all the talking so I didnt have to! Plus she did a good job! She works for a fancy salon but also does some on the side at home. Its so much cheaper here than in Melbourne! 

I also went shopping with mum for a pill box – we ended up getting one that fits all my medication boxes etc. The other is an organiser, so I can remember whether I have taken my meds or not. Its proving very handy, but I feel like such an old lady. Damn dysautonomia problems!

Today I chilled at mums house,  and some good friends came to visit. So I didnt have to leave the house which was nice and relaxing. It was nice to see some old friends.

Anyway thats about all thats interesting about me at the moment. Hope you are all well xx

Advertisements

Dealing with compensation entitlement (HELP!!)

So the last 3 hours I have been googling the heck out of what monetary awards I may be entitled to as compensation for my sexual abuse. So much annoying legislation and confusing jargon to sift though to find the information I actually want to read!

money tree

My findings? I may be entitled to a lump sum payment, the value of which is determined by how impaired I am judged to be, by one of their psychiatric assessors. From their guidelines, I would place myself at 30-60% impaired – and hence would probably receive something between $10,000 and $50,000. I have no idea how accurate this is though. I guess I will have to wait and see. 

The other thing I might qualify for is a weekly payment, because I can’t work due to my mental state.

So this is all kinda exciting, but also daunting. I KNOW these processes are ruthless, and lengthy. The last time i had dealings with this place, it was so triggering that it sent me downhill enough to be stuck in hospital for the next 8 months. So I will have to tread carefully!

walking on eggshells

What would I do with this money? Ummm well probably the first thing I would do is pay off my debts. And depending on how much was left over, then I would either put it towards future education or towards a deposit on buying a house, and having enough to travel overseas to live (maybe)

How am i feeling after doing all this research? Exhausted, cold, and desirous of self harming. Or hiding in the wardrobe. But its too cold to leave my bed. I am oh so sane 😛

Smelly people on the bus

I must have the worst sense of who to sit next to on the bus ever! 

Seriously.. the person who I sat next to smelt like feces! It was horrible. But then it’s partly my fault because I chose that person (it was a relatively full bus) because they looked like the type of person who would live in the suburb I was going to. (So i didnt have to get up) Which I was fairly correct in! But the suburb I am visiting is a lower socioeconomic area so…. higher chance of them smelling? My goodness thats very judgemental of me. 

Oh well, live and learn! 

A year in review..

So I’ve been slack. Very slack. I’ve just read my last post and its nearly a year old! So whats been happening since then? A LOT! Infact, its such a lot that I don’t even know where to start! So from my last post, my mental state started deteriorating… I had a rather large psych assessment in which I had to divulge a lot of past trauma stuff in detail – the whole thing lasted nearly 5 hours! So after that, I started having much worse symptoms of post traumatic stress disorder, and everything went quickly downhill. I then ended up quite suicidal and started cutting again

.hate hospitals

 

Shortly after the self harm episodes I ended up kidnapped by my team and whisked into hospital under the mental health act. I was not impressed. But at this stage (having never been in a psych ward before) I was terrified mostly. I was under the assumption however that I would get out within a week tops! They started me off in the unlocked side, but then after a few days I was self harming again and they didn’t like that very much. So the psychiatrist decided to transfer me to the locked unit (damnit). I really HATED having no control over myself and things escalated pretty quickly – I got really sneaky and managed to get blades in, and managed to find ways to hide them really really well. My self harm became more and more serious requiring lots and lots of stitches on many occasions. They tried to get my blades off me by doing room searches, but they usually couldn’t find them. As the self harm was becoming a huge problem, I was put on a one on one watch for a large part of the time. I hated this most of all, they had to watch me use the bathroom, shower, sleep – everything! Some of the watchers were nice, and i got on well with them, other were horrible and just stared at me and told me off.

Now by this stage i was discovering that if i didn’t have control, then i got very sneaky and broke almost every rule i possibly could, just to feel in control of myself again. Usually I would never self harm when there was a chance of someone catching me. But on a watch, I never had that time to myself. So I would end up trying to self harm under the blankets etc – they would usually catch me or figure it out and on occasions, when it was severe, I had to be restrained. One time, I must have been doing this, (I don’t remember very clearly, i dissociated significantly – but i heard about it) and it took about 6 staff members to fully restrain me on the ground and drag me off to the ICU section. It must have been really triggering for me because apparently the next day i woke thinking i was 7 years old and had NO idea where i was or how I got there, or what was going on. I apparently wrote a letter in that state, but they wouldn’t let me read it later because of its content. I had gone truly whacko! But when they moved me back to my usual room it started coming back to me. Whew!

On several occasions i managed to escape and run away. Now I recount all of this in a light way, but I was very very sick at the time and it was not at all funny for me or my poor friends. But I really was quite sneaky. Once I scaled a 3 meter wall to get out. The staff told me later that they were watching it on the security tapes and it was quite an amazing set of skills! That particular escape didn’t last too long for me, as i had had strong meds just prior, and after getting more blades and self harming, I ended up passed out on the street and someone called an ambulance. On other occasions though I managed to be free for hours and hours, running up through bush areas where i thought no one could find me. Those times I was eventually captured by police, nearly tazered, and forced to the ground where they then put handcuffs on me, read me my rights and then took me back to hospital. 

psych-ward

Time went on, and I eventually started to get a smidgen better. They wanted to send me to a private psychiatric hospital in a different city, that focused on long term recovery. So when I was stable enough to go, (3 months later) I was taken down there by a nurse and started my next leg of hospital stay. I cannot stress enough how AWFUL this place was. It was a course of tough love! It was all group work, and they would not tolerate any “bad behavior” so  they would publicly reprimand you and all the other patients would chime in with staff and tell you they were angry with you etc etc. This happened a lot until you were SO TERRIFIED of doing anything remotely wrong, that you learnt to keep everything bottled up and put on a happy face. They gave me a huge scary male therapist that looked exactly like someone who had abused me in the past, and refused to give me a different one. Even though I asked and petitioned and begged for months. So i just refused to go see him because I was not getting any good out of it. So no individual therapy for me, and the rest was all group stuff where people would consistently criticize you. And that was encouraged.

bad behavior

 

I didn’t find this place very useful, and I really really wanted to go home. But they wouldn’t let me. I was still under the mental health act and they also wouldn’t take me off. So I was stuck there. After about 4 months I decided to fake it till i made it, and be the super good girl they wanted me to be and managed to “behave”. I begged and begged to be allowed to discharge. Finally, begrudgingly they let me after 5 months. Now this was quite an accomplishment, seeing as they usually like to keep people for 2 years on average, and I was one that they had suggested stay that long. So on the 4th of July – independence day – I finally got my independence back and was able to move back to where I usually live, except in a nice new flat with new flatmates etc. 

Ive been in my new flat for a month and a half (wow it feels longer). I have lovely flatmates, and the location is great. Im now under a general mental health team (not the eating disorder service) and my case managers quite nice. Although shes going away for 6 weeks as of today. Ive been majorly up and down since being back, but Im so so so grateful to not be in hospital! I managed quite well for a bit, and wasn’t self harming, but things have started slipping again. Oh well. My main objective is to not end up in hospital again. I had a close run in the other day because I rung a heath line to check whether i needed stitches or not and that person rung the police and an ambulance without telling me and i got dragged off to ED. Where they wouldn’t let me go till my usual team came to see me the next morning. 

So since then, I decided i need to take care of my own wounds, and so I bought suturing equipment (sutures, forceps, needle holder and scissors) and taught myself how to suture. Tonight was the first night I self harmed since getting the equipment, and so I am quite proud of my efforts at stitching myself up. I think i did a pretty pro job. I kept everything as sterile as I could and Im already on antibiotics, so risk of infection is low. Im feeling much better mentally now and super stoked that I didn’t need to have any other medical care. BOOM!

freedom

I will try and update this blog more regularly from now on, I have a feeling im going to need it to survive the next few months. Especially with my mental health worker being away, my friends being sick of me being sick and me not wanting to end up in hospital. So this shall resume as my rant space as I have to keep everything hidden, whilst staying sane!

I hope someone reads this… If you do, please comment to say hi! I love my readers 🙂 

Panic attack

I had a really bad flash back the other night, was triggered in the car. It was awful – and I had a panic attack. Full on shaking, completely not breathing moving to hyperventilating, blacking out, fast heart beat, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing. I was uncontrollable. Internally I was screaming, i was quite surprised (and glad) that it wasnt out loud!
At this point, I really really needed to cut myslf. But i couldnt, because of my mum. So I felt like i was dying, going to explode! Lucky i still have an incredibly large and painful bruise on my arm, so I pressed on it hard. Cutting would have been bliss though.
Has anyone else had a similar experience with a panic attack, and/or ptsd episode? I would love to hear your experiences!
Saw M (psychologist) today.. but we didnt really talk about anything particularly, as she thinks it would be pointless to get into anything deep now, as I only have 3 more sessions with her before I move citys.
Ive just figured out that Im going to be completely sick of mental health proffessionals next week – tuesday i have an appt with R (psychiatrist) at the youth service i go to, and on that same afternoon I have to see a psychologist elsewhere for an assessment for ACC. Goodness knows why they cant just get all of my details from the youth service!! And then I see M again on friday. So yeah… I am going to be sick of it. Wish me luck peoples!! 😛

Been trying to break my arm this afternoon. Is that sick or what?!! I am so screwed up that I long for physical pain to feel better.