Tag Archives: trigger

Stress/Trigger Overload

Today there has just been too many triggering and stressful things for my mind to deal with. First off, I had to walk down the road to meet the person who was picking me up for church, all by myself, because they were running late. That was scary as heck. Then later someone started talking in depth about a specific trigger for my ptsd, as an illustration, and that got me all panicky and yuk.

Then, unexpectedly, I got invited to go out for lunch and look at this quilting exhibition (don’t get me wrong, it was nice that she invited me etc) but that was a lot of crowded areas, and scary stuff for me, and I had to try and concentrate on what she was saying the whole time and not dissociate to deal with it.

And now I’m home and feeling really strung out, and I really want to self harm, but I don’t want to at the same time. I don’t know what to do with myself.

One of my closest friends is going through a crisis at the moment as well and I am really scared for her. I want to help, but I don’t know how. But I am so glad that she can rely on and talk to me about it, as no one else would understand. If I lose her, Im highly likely to throw in the towel myself. It’s a scary thought.

Tomorrow I have to go to this group therapy thing but i wussed out last time, so i haven’t met anyone and I don’t know what to expect, and its all very very intimidating. I want to pike again, but I will get in so much trouble with my psychiatrist, and it’s always wise to stay on their good side!

How am I going to manage all this??!

Also, I have started freaking out about going home to mums for a holiday (nearly 2 weeks) because she gives me pretty much no privacy, and I will NOT be able to get away with self harming, or suturing myself or anything. Even the bathroom door doesn’t have a lock, and I think I might even be sharing a room with her, and she will expect me to change in front of her. If I get defensive of my privacy she gets suspicious and annoyed with me. Trust me, I know from experience.

What happens if I lose the plot (highly likely, as there are a lot of triggers) and self harm anyway? I would have to tell mum, she would have to take me to the emergency department, she would be incredibly angry with me, and because the people there don’t know me, and have pretty much no access to my usual mental health team, they might take a cautious approach and stick me in hospital. And then I could potentially get stuck there! Eek.

So It would seem best to try not to self harm while I am down there, but then, I don’t know how I am going to deal with all of the extra stresses without that coping mechanism!

Someone please give me some ideas!!

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Helicopters freak me out :/

I have a lot of PTSD triggers… but many of them i can cope with much better these days. But not helicopters. 

I’ve seen/ heard quite a few rescue helicopters today and ive been on the verge of a panic attack. I went to find a picture of one for this post, but after a few seconds, i freaked out and couldn’t cope. I nearly started screaming. 

How pathetic is this?? 

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 🙂 

Calories calories calories

Yesterday I consumed 70 calories, but didn‘t exercise. Today so far I have had 1 – coke zero, and I hope that thats all I have to have. Mums out for the day, and Im going swimming this evening with a friend so I can skip dinner.
I was thinking about getting some diet pills, but im not sure how compatable they are with sertraline or quetiapine. Does anyone know?
Last night i was feeling a bit depressed and had some ptsd triggers. Even watching the bubbles in my coke set me off!! It was the first time in a while that I thought about cutting myself. I imagined that feeling of release, pure, and clean. I wanted it. But i didnt, i stopped myself. Yay? I think thats a good thing.

Im so cold. One of the down sides of not eating. I get cold easily anyway… now im just plain freezing all the time! I should get off my lazy arse and do some exercise to warm me up. Actually, im supposed to be packing. But packing to leave home is such a mission. Calculating calorie defecits and posting on here is so much more interesting!
The other thing is.. I have way too many clothes, and I am not sure how many i will fit in a few months anyway if i continue the way I am. But then, knowing me, i will start eating at some point, or someone will make me, and i will get back to my set point. So what clothes do I pack???? Someone give me advice please! I dont WANT to be fat and ugly ever again, but then… i dont know.

My Bmi is 20 today 🙂 Getting there, step by step. Next goal, 18. Next goal, 16. Apparently about 2 months 15 days if i carry on like i am.