Lying

 First I want to vent about some things that pissed me off. I was scheduled to have an appointment at 2:00 with the physicians assistant who manages me psych meds. Yesterday at around 5:00, I get an email confirming my appointment at 2:00 with some other person I have never heard of. So I understand that there are reasons that I might have to change. I am reasonable, but it would also be reasonable to expect them to call me and tell me it's happening or my PA could have told me because apparently he's known for a while. That's the first thing that upset me. The second is that at 1:15 I get a text telling me that I had an appointment with this lady at 2:00 EST. I'm not in that time zone. I get all worried that they screwed it up and I missed the appointment, but I try to calm down and tell myself someone would have called if I had actually not shown for the appointment (video appointment). Then 2:00 CDT (or CST? not sure the difference) comes, and I go to log on to the appointment. Except now the appointment is listed as a past appointment, so there's no longer a link to join the video call. I get to frantically call and explain the weird situation to someone at the office, so they can send me a new link. Then of course, they're late. At 2:10 or something the medical assistant comes on and wants to update my chart and check my personal info is the same. Then at 2:20 probably, I actually see the new PA. She's rather too cheerful, but I think she was trying to make up for the whole situation with the appointment and the anxiety it caused. 

The title of the post has to do with some lies I told. I'm like 75% honest lately. I'm pretty honest about having self harmed, but I usually lie on when and how many times. I sometimes admit to suicidal thoughts, but I always lie about how bad they are. I lie about if there's a plan. In my defense, there's always a plan. I always have a backup plan, and that's really hard to explain to a mental health professional without freaking them out. I am currently debating how much I can trust the new lady, and that's going to take some time to figure out. 

I still am not sure why, but my hands are shaking so badly. It could be electrolytes because of bulimia. It could be the ridiculous amount of caffeine. It could be that I skipped my Wellbutrin for a week and then suddenly restarted the full dose. Either way.. I'm afraid my parents have noticed, and I think they will assume I have been drinking because I always had tremors when I quit drinking. I think caffeine pills would upset them slightly less, but it won't go over well. I can't tell them about the Wellbutrin because they'll be angry that I didn't take my meds. There's no way to win if they bring it up, so I'm hoping they just won't say anything because I've had tremors in my left hand for a while now. That I assume is med, but my doctor just told me to try taking benadryl to help with it. The real solution is probably not to have me on more than one antipsychotic, but like the new lady he didn't want to rock the boat by changing anything. I tried to mention several times that I'm on too many meds, but she basically said that's just how it is for some people. 

I don't know. This probably wasn't coherent, but I needed to vent. 

Glasses

 Not that anyone cares, but as proof that I am in fact getting old I now have reading  glasses. They're not very strong, and it's really just for using my computer. My parents paid for them, which was nice because I don't have vision insurance. They insisted on getting nicer lenses than I would have gotten if I had paid (I planned to). 

I am otherwise doing quite poorly. The self destructive urges are very strong. So far, it's all been minor things, but I have urges to do something much worse. I might have plans to, but I haven't committed to anything. It all has to be delayed because I am going to an Irish music festival on Saturday, and I have to be around and well and not hospitalized for that. I must be well enough for now. It isn't helping that I'm still in a vicious cycle with sleeping trouble and caffeine pills, so I am so tired. I did at least admit that part to my therapist. Things are also quite stressful at home, but I don't want to get into all that. It's stupid stuff like my parents arguing and the dog being horrible. 

Caffeine

 I swear if I have a breakdown in the near future, this is going to be why. Actually, it all may or may not be a result of skipping my Wellbutrin. I've basically gotten myself into the vicious cycle with caffeine. It started somewhat innocently with drinking an extra cup of coffee because I was tired. At some point, I decided coffee was not going to cut it. I had bought some OTC diet pills that are mostly just caffeine pills. I took them once, and they made me nauseous. I decided to not take them. Then I started feeling exhausted, and I decided those were the solution. Except taking one wasn't enough. I took them twice a day (which is actually what the bottle recommends). I was still exhausted, and I decided it was cheaper and more practical to just buy caffeine pills. Somehow, 2 pills became 4. Then of course I started sleeping poorly.. waking up a lot, trouble falling asleep. That meant I was more tired, so I kept consuming more caffeine. Now, I've reached a point where I am both physically and emotionally exhausted. I don't know how to stop the pills. I know I need to take the Wellbutrin and cut back the caffeine, but that's all easier said than done. I think this is going to end up with me inpatient.

Yet another new therapist

 I am back to being too lazy to check what I have written previously and so probably repeating myself, which is not exactly a new habit. Plus honestly, if anyone reads this they might want the recap. Anyway, at the end of December my old therapist stopped accepting my insurance. Honestly, I was ok with this because she had on more than one occasion announced that I said I didn't want to get better and therefore she couldn't help me. Only problem is that I never said that and she is misinterpreting something I did say and deciding without clarifying that I don't want to get better. Plus, she really wanted me to get a job and would not listen to any of my arguments about why I wanted to at least wait and see if disability works out since I've been waiting over a year for a decision about it. I started in December with a new physicians assistant for my meds at a new psychiatrist's office and made an appointment with a therapist there for January. 

In January, I saw this new therapist, but then she couldn't see me again for almost a month because her schedule is so full. I saw her in February, and while I had appointments scheduled for the rest of February, she couldn't see me the first 3 weeks of March. While I'm relatively stable, I don't think I'm doing well enough to be going 3 weeks to a month between appointments. The PA agreed with me, so he asked the office staff to schedule me with another therapist. I am trying to see if I can see someone out of that same office because then I think the PA and therapist can communicate more easily than if I go elsewhere. I actually didn't like the first therapist there anyways (besides the schedule issue) because she seemed like a robot. She'd just keep saying "tell me about that" instead of giving any sort of feedback. Then she decided I should do EMDR because that's what she does, and I agreed because I am non confrontational. However, I don't really have a history of trauma, which is the main thing they use EMDR for. 

Today, I saw the new therapist, and I got a better feeling about her. I hate first therapy appointments because I don't know what to talk about. I basically said the main problems right now are depression and self harm. I obviously mentioned the alcohol and the bulimia, but I'm doing pretty ok with those things. We talked about why I'm cutting and if I want to change.. I said it's pretty much 50/50. I want to change, but I also know that self harm works and I don't have anything to replace it with. We talked about other things I can try like exercise or journalling, and I did say that I had started writing on my blog again. She asked if I would share something I wrote, and I awkwardly said no.. mostly I was unprepared, but I also like having some privacy. I'm sometimes more honest on here than I would be with my therapist. Anyway, she seems nice and very goal oriented, which is good for me. I lied when she asked if there's any thoughts of suicide. I'm.. not sure what the answer even is. I'm not really suicidal, but I have these urges to do certain behaviors that might be seen as suicidal. To me it's more wanting to hurt myself severely enough to need to be hospitalized, but I am assuming I won't die. Anyway, I didn't mention that. I don't know if she would push me to go inpatient, and I'm not really interested in going inpatient. I don't really have a plan, so I don't think it's necessary at this point. I see the therapist again next week, so I'll see how I'm feeling about things then. 

Speaking of secrets and lies.. I have gotten good at ordering innocent items and less innocent items from Amazon in the same orders, so that if my parents ask I can say I bought some normal thing without mentioning the other item. Today's innocent purchases were a shirt, a bra, and an eyeshadow pencil. The less innocent purchases were caffeine pills and first aid supplies. I have gotten very dependent on caffeine, and I only bought a small number of diet pills a few weeks ago. I also honestly think it's self care to buy first aid supplies since I am going to self harm one way or another. This lessens the risk of infection or serious scarring. Still, I can't explain either of those purchases to my parents. The bra is actually so that if I end up going inpatient, I have another bra without an underwire because I refuse to go without a bra in the hospital, and I only have a couple of bras without underwires (which aren't allowed in hospitals here). The shirt is a green shirt to wear to the North Texas Irish Festival.. assuming I don't get myself hospitalized between now and then. Can you see that I have decided the hospitalization is inevitable? I just don't want it to happen yet. My brain is a strange place these days. 

Awkward appointment

 So I saw the physicians assistant who does my psych meds today. I actually like this guy, which is a lot more than I could say for the last person I was seeing. He asked how I was doing, and I said I'm ok in what I thought was a pretty convincing voice. He said I seemed down, so I guess not so convincing. I explained how I had stopped taking my Wellbutrin for a few days, and obviously he asked why. I tried to awkwardly explain the logic that I was having a lot of self destructive thoughts, but that my mood didn't match. So you know.. logically.. I should make my mood worse to make it match my thoughts. Then I quickly add that this is something I have done frequently in the past, which is true. Thankfully, he didn't try to argue with my logic, and I said I did take it today. I took it mostly because despite having 2 cups of coffee and 2 cans of diet soda and a diet pill, I am still so tired I could cry. Oh and I slept like 10 hours last night. 

I also explained how I don't think it is going to work with the therapist I am seeing. I didn't get into my issues with her style because that's not really the issue. The issue is that sometimes her schedule is so full that I would go 3 weeks to a month without therapy, and I said that I'm not exactly doing well enough to be going without therapy. He totally agreed with me, and he sent a message to someone to see if I could start seeing someone else who he thinks is more available. She also does EMDR, which I am not totally sold on but was willing to try. He asked if things had been going ok with the other therapist, and I basically said it was too early to tell. I'm afraid to sound critical of therapists because in the past my parents have acted like it's my fault that therapy wasn't working because I was either lying or not trying. I'm afraid if I say that it's not working that he'll assume I just wasn't willing to try. So now my appointments with the current therapist have been cancelled, and I see someone new next week. I am seriously hoping this person will do more than say "tell me more about that."

I'm going to be honest for a second, so I guess trigger warning. My head is totally fucked up. I have this stockpile of pills that I have gathered for various reasons (like I didn't take my meds because I was nauseous but didn't want anyone to know so I hid them). I keep thinking about ODing, but I come up with reasons not to do it yet. Like I don't want to do it before we're supposed to have dinner with my brother because I don't want to screw up those plans.. or I'm supposed to have an optometrist appointment on Monday.. or now I have this new therapist appointment. I still think about it though... a lot. The thoughts have been going on for weeks now, which is what prompted me to mess with my meds and sabotage things more. I honestly can't tell if I'm suicidal or just self destructive or if it really matters which it is. Today I am too tired to do anything. I am just going through the motions until I can collapse into bed at 10. 

So I get points for being more honest than not during my appointment today. I admitted to cutting as well. I lied about how bad the thoughts are. In my defense, I do not have an actual plan to do anything, so I didn't really lie. All I can really do is go through the motions and take things one day at a time. The PA did increase my lithium, so maybe that will make some difference.. and maybe I'll start taking the Wellbutrin again. That could help with the exhaustion. I can't handle the exhaustion. Caffeine is hardly making a dent in it. I'm rambling now... so I'll stop. 

Still managing

 I haven't known what to write the past few days. I'm not doing so well. I haven't been taking my Wellbutrin in my continued attempt at self sabotage, and I'm starting to feel the difference. I'm consuming a ridiculous amount of caffeine to keep functioning, which is fun because it makes me nauseous. I haven't done anything more self destructive than usual, so I suppose that's good. It doesn't mean my thoughts are any better. 

I see my psych this week, and I think I will bring up with him that I don't think the therapist is going to work out. There's a few reasons. The main one is that her schedule is so full that I end up having several weeks in a row with no appointment. It happened for the majority of January, and she can't see me during the first 3 weeks of March. Clearly, I am not well enough to be without therapy for almost a month. I also just don't think her style will work.. she's very much the "How does that make you feel?" style. I will talk, and she'll just keep saying "Tell me about that." Now she wants to work on EMDR, and my issue with it is the same as when my therapist in residential brought it up. EMDR deals mainly with the past, and I'm having far too much trouble in the present to try to deal with the past. I need help with my current thoughts and feelings and behaviors more than the origin of my core beliefs and whatever else I'm supposed to be dealing with. Does that seem reasonable? Maybe it's just an excuse, but I currently expect to end up inpatient in the next couple weeks. I'm hanging on by a thread. Anyway, the first reason is probably enough to justify changing. My hope is that there's someone within the same practice that can see me regularly, and it's a bonus if that person has a different style. I need feedback and not to just ramble endlessly. I am well aware that my thoughts aren't logical, so I need them challenged. I haven't been entirely honest with her, so that might be a problem. I'm just trying to delay the inevitable hospitalization. 

It might be good.. or pointless, but I am sort of attending online AA meetings. I don't know if I mentioned this, but it was discussed with my case manager for the disability attorney that it might look good if I can show I am working on maintaining my recovery. I say sort of because at least once I have logged on to the website and then stayed logged in without actually listening to the meeting, but the topic was on how our higher power shows up in our lives. I don't do the higher power thing at the moment (which is a whole other post). Several meetings I have at least listened in on. I honestly don't have a lot of thoughts are feeling about it because I don't feel connected to much of anything or anyone anymore. I'm just going through the motions. I am so tired. I've been going to sleep around 10:30 and sleeping until 8:30, so I'm sleeping 9-10 hours a night. That's after at least 2 cups of coffee, 3-4 diet sodas, and a diet pill. If I end up inpatient, I am going to crash so hard. 

I think I should write something else, but I don't know what. The lack of medication is fucking with my head. I'm just going through the motions and caffeinating enough to keep up appearances. I see my psych tomorrow, and maybe I'll at least be honest about not taking the medication. 

Self sabotage

 I am really struggling at the moment. My mood is slightly better.. I laugh more, I smile more, and I don't feel like I'm going to cry at any moment. However, my thoughts are still absolute shit. Actually, it's not just thoughts. It's behaviors too. I'm having a lot of suicidal thoughts and thoughts about self harm.. actually what I have in my head is less an actual suicide attempt and more a massive form of self harm. I am cutting. I am hoarding pills (although I've had a stash for months now). What I'm really struggling with is the difference between my thoughts and my feelings. I think my mood should be sad if I'm having all these thoughts.

So the only rational thing is to start messing with my meds, right? I decided to cut back on my Lithium and Wellbutrin for the week and see what happens. This is the sabotage the title is referring to. I know nothing good will come of this. Either it will make no difference or more likely it will make things worse. Obviously, I haven't told anyone. I have therapy tomorrow and am debating in my head how much I can tell her before she decides I need to go inpatient (she's already asked me if I think I need it). I am ok with her suggesting it but not if she decides she needs to call my parents or the police or something. That's what I'm avoiding because I don't want to go until I decide I want to go. I know it's likely to happen, but I'm just not ready to admit that. 

Wow, I really intended to have a more coherent post, but it didn't end up that way. I am safe. My head is just in a horrible place, and I don't know what to do about it. If I went inpatient now and I smile or laugh, they'll think I'm fine or I'm lying. I may decide to go back on all of my meds. I didn't throw the pills out. I just put them somewhere. Rationally, I know I need help, but I'm not exactly rational most of the time. 

An introduction

 It occurred to me after giving this link to a couple people that you would have to read several years of entries to get to an introduction. I think maybe I should make it something I include occasionally. 

My name is Beth. I am a 35 year old woman living in Texas. I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, borderline personality disorder, alcohol dependence, and bulimia nervosa. I live with my parents at the moment and 2 cats.

I include the cats because they are a big motivation to stay alive. I have been hospitalized more times than I could possibly count. About half of those were for depression/suicidal ideation and the other half for detox/alcohol. I've also been to residential treatment for bulimia and rehab several times for alcoholism. In all honesty, I will probably end up inpatient again in the next couple weeks for self harm and suicidal ideation. It's just a question of if I choose to go or the choice is made for me. 

I am not currently working. I lost my last job after I had the brilliant idea to get a motel room and try to kill myself without calling in sick to work. I then ignored all the texts from work for those days in the motel and the days in the ICU after. A few days ago I updated on my journey trying to apply for disability since then. I have had a variety of jobs. I have my bachelors degree in biology. I tried to work on my masters, but alcoholism got in the way of that. 

Currently, I am trying to recover from the bulimia.. while also trying to lose weight. That's tricky. I drank a couple weeks ago, but before that I had been sober since December.. before that sober since September.. before that since April... basically drinking every few months, which is better than I managed for years. I'm not so much trying to stop self harm because I am dealing with a lot of depression and anxiety and hopelessness. 

I don't have much else to say. I will just generally say there should be a trigger warning for the blog, but I really try to be aware of the people who might be reading. I am mostly writing for myself, but it helps me to think someone might read this because it makes me feel like writing has some purpose. I'm not so good at keeping up with journals, but this blog has been going since 2014. 

Oh and to explain the name and the url.. The blog was originally called Crazy or Sick after a conversation I had with a therapist. She objected to calling myself crazy, but I tried to explain that it bothers me less to say crazy than it does to say I'm sick. At some point I changed the name to Twice the Devil's Thirst, which is a line in a song. It says "I played the fool and broke the rules, and let them say their worst 'cause I had an angel's face and twice the devil's thirst." People always used to tell me that they wouldn't have suspected me of being an alcoholic or even in AA they would say they would never have thought I drank so much, so I guess I don't have the face of an alcoholic. I definitely have the thirst of an alcoholic though. 

Reading and remembering

 So since I've decided to come back to this blog, I decided I should reread old entries. I'm not sure why I thought this was a good idea because in the past my rule was that I wasn't allowed to read old journals. If I did read them, it was often in an effort to sabotage any progress I had made. It's just that I tend to journal the negative things. I tried guided journals that have you write about gratitude and hope, and it just isn't what I am trying to accomplish when I journal. Here is a little different because I write under the assumption that someone will read it, which may or may not be the case. That means I also tend to journal objectively and explain events that occurred and about people in my life. I just try to include what happened before I process my feelings about it. 

Still, I'm currently reading from 2016, and there's not a whole lot positive that happened that year. My life consisted of drinking and working and sleeping and very little else. I try to forget those years when I was drinking for a couple of reasons. 1) It was a very negative time and I was very sick. I was living in an apartment that was a total mess. I was drinking and cutting. I had pretty much lost all friends. 2) Despite that, I miss those days. I miss being physically sick and so weak I couldn't carry things up stairs. I miss being able to numb out everything with alcohol. I miss my job and my apartment even if it was unlivable. I miss my AA friends.

So I honestly think that I am reading this as self sabotage again. Trigger warning for this. I am currently self destructive and a little suicidal, and I'm not really actively trying to change that. I lied about the extent of the self harm and the suicidal thoughts to both my therapist and the PA that does my meds. I ordered razors and first aid supplies on Amazon. I told myself that's progress because cutting has a much lower risk of infection than the burning I was doing, and it heals faster. I can't really explain why I don't want the suicidal thoughts to go away. I think the best I can explain it is that I read a book about borderline personality disorder that left me viewing suicide attempts as a massive form of self harm. I also over the years have encountered staff in hospitals that didn't really take me seriously if I was just suicidal but hadn't actually done anything; so if I'm going to end up back inpatient (which seems likely), I feel like I need to do something. 

The biggest thing I miss right now is other people. I miss having friends. I miss having coworkers. I miss having anyone in my life that wasn't my parents or my brother. You might thing that would inspire me to reach out to them, but I am also reading this and seeing how toxic I was. That particular job... I made no effort to hide the self harm. They knew about my drinking. I left at least twice.. maybe it's 3 times to go IP, but mostly I worried people. It's the same with people from AA. I was way to dependent on a couple of people, and that generally means when I go downhill they are the ones to get hurt. I can't bring myself to reach out to them when I am doing quite badly. It would be unfair to them. Although as I am writing this, I at least posted a photo on facebook so that they know I'm alive. 

I also miss my independence despite the fact that I was clearly not doing a good job at living on my own. I write about going shopping and wandering around stores all the time. I write about sleeping past noon (I was working 3:30PM-12AM at the time). I also miss the freedom to drink, which makes no sense because I was so mentally and physically unwell. I had to go to the ER more than once for dehydration and low potassium because I kept vomiting everyday. In some ways being physically unwell made me feel better because at least it was visible. Depression tends to be invisible, or at least I make an effort to hide it. 

I don't know. I think I am rambling. The synopsis is that I am rereading this blog, and I think it's to sabotage myself. I need to stop, but I keep going. 

Disabled

 Please if anyone reads this and has some kind of negative opinion about people being on disability, just keep it to your self. Let's not criticize the suicidal girl, ok? Feedback is always welcome, but I know this is a touchy topic. 

Back in May or June of 2020, I was inpatient followed by 2 suicide attempts. I was actually in that hospital for 18 days, which is pretty much unheard of here, but things were just that bad. While I was there, my parents suggested I get a disability attorney and try applying again. I applied back in 2017 or 2018, and I was denied. It took so long to hear back that basically I had gotten enough better that they said I wasn't sick enough. I'm paraphrasing because I don't remember the actual decision. Anyway, my parents said I should get an attorney because almost no one gets approved in this state. Of course, I then went to residential and then inpatient and then residential again, so it wasn't until November 2020 that I found an attorney and applied. 

Then I waited. 

I mean there was some things that happened.. mainly I had to continue to update my case manager at the attorney's office about when I was in treatment and what doctor I was seeing. In October of 2021 (so almost a year later), I had a video call with a psychologist to basically ask me a bunch of questions and then he reports back to the disability office. Here I made the mistake of mentioning my alcoholism. I tried to be very clear that I haven't been drinking regularly during the time since I have been "disabled." As bad as 2020 was, I lost my job in February, and since then I drank on less than 10 days. Pretty much all those days correspond to my suicide attempts or suicide plans. In 2021, I drank in March or April, once in September, and once in December. 

Still, in January 2022, I finally got a decision. Of course it was denied, which I expected. What matters to me is the reason. 

"You said you were unable to work as of 02/14/2020 because of major depression and anxiety. 

We have determined that you are not entitled to disability benefits. We have reviewed the facts in your case and decided that drug addiction and/or alcoholism is a contributing factor material to a finding of disability. This means you would not be disabled if you stopped using drugs and/or alcohol. Therefore, we cannot consider you disabled under the law."

I am not going to pretend I am not an alcoholic. I am not going to deny I have lost a job because of alcoholism... although it was a little complicated. The fact is that I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety 10 years before I started drinking. I was depressed before the alcoholism. I was depressed during periods of sobriety. I was severely depressed the times I was in treatment in 2020 and 2021, and obviously I wasn't drinking while I was in residential/inpatient. My depression is not caused by my alcoholism. I mainly drank in the past 2 years because I was suicidal, and it's a lot less difficult to do that when you're drunk. I had to explain all this to the case manager at the attorney, and I honestly can't remember what I told them about the alcoholism in the beginning. She seemed to understand me and said they'd file an appeal, which will probably be denied again. Then if they appeal again, I can actually request a hearing and explain things. 

If you're wondering how I reacted to the decision.. not so well. On the surface, I acted like it was fine because I was too ashamed to tell my parents the reason for the decision. Shame and guilt and depression are probably a lot of what led to drinking last week. Since then, I cannot tell if it's a direct result of drinking or if it's related to the shame again, but my thoughts are pretty horrible. *TW* I'm not sleeping well, and I'm not just having my usual suicidal thoughts at night. I'm wondering about stabbing myself. I'm wondering about all sorts of cutting. I'm wondering about pouring boiling water on myself. Then there's stuff I won't go into. Once again on the surface, I am fine. I am afraid to speak about what's going on in my head because I don't want to be hospitalized at this point. I think it's inevitable, but I am trying to put it off a bit longer. 

Mentally, I have kinda given up on disability, but I feel like I've waited this long and should stick it out. Plus, I don't want to tell this attorney's office that I've given up after all the work they've done. Also, I do legitimately think that working right now would be a bad idea. If nothing else, I'm probably going to end up in the hospital soon. 

Coming back

I probably won't write for very long. This post is mostly to tell anyone who might still read this that I am planning to start writing again. For most of 2020, I didn't write because I was constantly in and out of treatment. In 2021, I just didn't feel my life was worth writing about. I still don't, but I need to write somewhere. I prefer this over a paper journal. 
As far as life goes

The good

• I haven't been inpatient since April 2021
• I am consistently doing therapy and taking my meds (all 6 of them)
• I gained a bunch of weight over the past 2 years, but I've lost 25lb now

The bad

• I am still living with my parents (although I suppose the positive there is that I have somewhere to live)
• I applied for disability back at the end of 2020 and am still dealing with that, which will probably be a whole post that I'm not ready to write today
• I have only been sober since January 25th, but I am not drinking regularly
• I have been off and on in a relapse for bulimia since I was last inpatient
• I am on 6 fucking medications that I'm not even sure are working
• I'm currently pretty self destructive and suicidal

I might honestly edit to add to the lists because there's more. My life is still very boring and repetitive, but my thoughts and depression are constantly changing. I am emotionally attached to this blog because it goes back pretty far, so I would never start over unless I had to. I don't know if anyone will read this. It doesn't really matter. That's all for now because this was an impulsive decision to write again, and I should probably give it some thought before I say much else. Thanks if anyone is around and made it through this post.

Why does feeling like dying make me think that I've been living?

I couldn't think what to call this post, so I'm going to steal a line from a Town Pants song. Honestly, I'm staring at the computer not sure what to even say. I think everyone around me has a different idea of how I am doing. They are all pretty much convinced that I am doing better than I am because I am choosing not to mention certain behaviors. I think maybe in some ways I am better than I was. My mood is not 100% depressed now. However, I am wondering if maybe my mood is better because my behavior is worse. 

The main behaviors that I am choosing not to tell my therapists (IOP or individual) are the purging and the cutting/burning. My psychiatrist knows some about the self harm but not the bulimia. In my mind, neither is that bad. I am usually only purging once a day and the self harm isn't everyday and isn't that severe compared to what I've done in the past. I'm afraid to mention the bulimia because I don't want my new therapist to insist I need to see someone who specializes in eating disorders.. some people get weird about that. I haven't mentioned the self harm because she already seems concerned about the suicidal thoughts. I am trying to convince her that those aren't new or that severe. She seemed particularly worried when I mentioned the trip in 3 months and how it was overwhelming to think of being alive that long. I couldn't come up with an explanation for that which made sense. 

The behavior that I certainly have not told anyone about is a new form of self harm (well not new.. just not one I have done recently). I might have gotten incredibly triggered last week by something in the book on borderline personality disorder that I was reading. Towards the end of the book there is basically a rating system for suicide attempts.. it ranks them from least severe to most severe with details like type and number or pills and location of cuts. Several other methods are included. I knew I shouldn't read it, but I did. It didn't increase my suicidal thoughts. It did sort of justify the self harm because on the rating scale it would be probably a zero. I started with taking 8 tylenol PM at bedtime.. which felt really bizarre. I spent a couple hours debating if I really needed to go to the restroom and debating if I would be able to walk because I was dizzy when I stood up. The second night I took 4 tylenol and 8 tylenol PM. The goal of this (which I can't really explain) is to see if I can damage my liver between now and when I have my annual physical next week. I wanted something that would show up on the blood tests because that would be proof that I actually did damage. I really don't know why this is so appealing. I am afraid if I tell anyone that they will decide I need to go inpatient. Maybe I need to go inpatient, but for the past year it's been very difficult to justify going without some attempt or a drinking binge or just something to prove I need to be there. The problem is that I think this will escalate. 

So everyone thinks I am doing okay. I do not think I am doing okay. I just have no idea how to communicate this because I don't really want to go inpatient, but I kind of want to be sick enough that I have to. I don't like others telling me I seem better when they have no idea what's going on in my head or in my life. 

I don't know what the point of this was, but I wanted to get it out. 

September

 I am probably writing way more often that I should be, but it helps me. I don't even know who is reading this anymore. 

Today's topic is what should have been a neat conversation with my parents about a trip they're planning, but in reality it has some pretty overwhelming implications. I actually already kind of knew about it because I'm observant. I knew my dad was buying tickets for a Cubs game, and then I noticed that the game was at Wrigley. We live in Texas, so obviously this meant some kind of trip would be planned. I did not see when the tickets were for, and I had no idea if the plan was to take me too. 

I am not a baseball fan. I find it at best boring and these days it would probably be very anxiety provoking since I don't handle crowds or noise well. I just didn't know until today if the plan was for me to go to Chicago with them and just not go to the game. They brought it up at lunch, and I kind of wanted to interrupt them and say I knew about the tickets because my dad was taking forever to get to the point, but I decided to be polite and listen. We ended up talking about if there was anything else to do in Chicago that I would enjoy since the game is only interesting to them and my brother. That was all fine, and we discussed the art institute and if there were any plays. I mentioned finding nice places to eat, but it seems pretty obvious that the omnivores are probably picking the restaurants because I sent them 2 cool vegan restaurants that they have no interest in. I also sent my mom a link for an italian beef restaurant (one of the foods they want to eat) that has a vegan beef sandwich. She said she would see if it was where we were going. (This is a tangent but I'm annoyed) I feel like I should get some say in where we eat because I already get stuck eating a lot of veggie burgers because we go to restaurants with no other options for vegetarians. They could at least pick one restaurant for me. That's not the point of this.. 

I think it should be apparent by now that I am not doing so well with the depression (and now the borderline). I still have a lot of suicidal thoughts. I'm just simultaneously thinking of what I want to do and questioning what other people will think my motives are. The book on borderline I am reading talks about how borderline patients are viewed as manipulative, but that that isn't the motive of the self harm or suicidal behavior. In my case, I am really quite miserable a lot of the time. My life is nothing I want it to be, and I have no real control over any of it. I feel trapped living with my parents. I have no car. I have very little money. I truly believe I am not well enough to get a job. Any amount of job stress would probably push me right over the edge. Still, waiting to find out about disability is taking forever, and I've had people question if I should even be waiting for it. Like the psychiatrist who did my assessment for IOP basically told me I shouldn't hope to get disability and shouldn't be waiting and how no one ever gets it and I should look for a job. I wanted to punch the man because it was a really tactless way to approach something that is none of his fucking business. So anyway, it's not about being manipulative, but I know it gets seen that way. 

Well, now I have this plan for a trip in September, and going would require me to be 1) alive and 2) not in the hospital. That's a really big commitment. Now I'm going back and forth in my head about how it would be better to have a suicide attempt now because I'd for sure be out of the hospital by September. It's not a really good place for my thoughts to be. I know that I could either approach this as motivation to get better or as a reason to just say fuck it because being alive 3 more months is overwhelming. I want to cry writing this. 

Things at home aren't good, but I think people (mainly my IOP therapist) think what's going on is no big deal. I complain a lot about my parent's dog, but pretty much everyday I deal with the dog deciding I am not allowed to fucking move. He doesn't bite hard, but he tries to jump on me and bite me if I'm typing (he's asleep at the moment, thank god), if I am just sitting reading, if I try to reach for my glass of water.. my very existence seems to be a problem, and I can't live like this. Then there's my parents arguing and my mom snapping at me for no apparent reason except I guess I said the wrong thing. She snapped at me twice yesterday because I was asking if she needed help making dinner (but she'll also be upset if no one helps her), and I've cried at least the past 2 days over how she snaps at me. This is the house I am stuck in for the foreseeable future. I mean other times my parents are loving, which is why no one seems to understand how bad it can be. Today after lunch, I went shopping with them, and my mom bought me 2 tops. If I bring up the financial problems or not having transportation in IOP, the therapist has questioned why I feel it would be a bad idea to work. I mean if nothing else it would look bad on my resume to lose another job because I tried to kill myself. That's how I lost my last job. So there's no way to really talk about everything and not then have to explain why it's not possible to get out of this situation any time soon. 

Three months is a long time. Oh and i start with a new therapist tomorrow. My mind has been going back and forth between wondering if maybe this person will be better and assuming it will be the same bullshit I have dealt with before. Will she immediately suggest IP? Will she also question why I can't work? Will she immediately want to do a family session as though that will help? 

I don't know. I legitimately have to stop typing because the dog is now awake and staring at me. Not even kidding. 

Making matters worse **TW**

 Just FYI this is probably going to be triggering, but for my own sake I need to get some things out

So I made the brilliant decision after getting my new diagnosis to buy Marsha Linehan's (creator of DBT) Cognitive-Behavioral Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder. It is very enlightening, but it may be making matters worse at the same time. The book is intended for professionals and not so much for patients. It has a much more detailed and complex description of borderline personality disorder, and she also talks a lot about the tendency with borderline or suicidal patients to blame the victim or view them as manipulative. What she says about that has reminded me of therapists and doctors that I have had in the past. I assumed they were right in that either I wasn't working hard enough at therapy or simply that therapy would never work for me. I like this part

" Even if therapists believe that a particular treatment will be effective in the long run, because it has worked with other patients, helplessness in the face of the borderlines' intense suffering —suffering that causes the therapists reciprocal pain—is the repeated, day-to-day experience of working with these individuals. In the face of this helplessness the therapists may redouble their efforts. When the patients still do not improve, the therapists may begin to say that they are causing their own distress. The patients don't want to improve or change. They are resisting therapy (After all, it works with almost everyone else.) They are playing games. They are too needy."

I wish I could see all this as hopeful.. that maybe I just need to find the right therapist who can handle borderline. Really, it's making me feel hopeless because the likelihood of that is rather limited. I might get into a DBT program, which is terrifying in its own way, or I might not for whatever reason. I am dependent on insurance, transportation, and the fact that if I am honest about how I am doing there is always the risk of just being told I need to be inpatient. There's the risk that if I admit to purging daily, they will insist I need eating disorder treatment first.. and getting insurance to cover that is another nightmare.. and I honestly don't care about stopping right now. If I don't get a good therapist, I am just reminded of all the times therapy has failed in the past. 

But what's really bothering me now is this part in the book where she talks about how the primary goal in DBT is to decrease suicidal behaviors. It gets really triggering there.. 

"The desire to be dead among borderline individuals is often reasonable, in that it is based on lives that are currently unbearable. A basic tenet of DBT is that the problem is rarely one of distorting positive situations into negative situations. Instead, the problem is usually that a patient simply has too many life crises, environmental stressors, problematic interpersonal relationships, difficult employment situations, and/or physical problems to enjoy life or find meaning in it. In addition, the patient's habitual dysfunctional behavior patterns both create their own stress and interfere with any chance of improving the quality of life. In sum, borderline individuals usually have good reasons for wanting to be dead. "

and then

"Whatever the reason, I have at times been convinced by patients that they are right. Not only did I believe that their lives were unlivable, but I myself saw no way out for them. I felt hopeless myself [...]I believe that individuals at times make informed and rational decisions to commit suicide."

I am obviously taking a few parts out of a larger discussion (basically that the therapist must take a non-negotiable position against suicide), but you can see how it might be upsetting. So I really probably should stop reading this book, but it's kind of addictive because it's all so accurate. I have to take occasional breaks to not get totally sucked in since my mind was not in a great place to start with.

So I don't know why I am writing this.. but I just needed to get it out

Borderline

 So when I made the last post, I was still kind of annoyed. You have to understand that the first time borderline personality disorder was brought up by a psychiatrist was around 14 years ago. My first time inpatient my psychiatrist printed out a bunch of stuff on borderline and gave it to me, but then we kind of never discussed it again. At the time, I honestly didn't see it, but now I think certain BPD traits were more obvious then than now. My moods were all over the place and I was discovering a bunch of anger that I had avoided for years, and it was coming out sideways at the therapists and psychiatrist of the eating disorder program I was in. Then I finished the program, and borderline wasn't discussed again for years. 

I can't remember when it came up next. I may have been reading about it on my own by then or maybe my therapist and I had been discussing it.. but that was probably the same therapist who was convinced that OCD is the root of all my problems. I did try to find a DBT group at the time, and the therapist for one I looked at told me I didn't have enough life experience to fit in with the group. I'm assuming the statement was based 100% on my age because he hadn't talked to me long enough to know my life. The next time I really remember borderline coming up was when I was inpatient for either drinking or depression. The psychiatrist basically said to me "you have a personality disorder, so medication isn't going to work." I know there is some validity to that statement, but it really seems like he just wanted an excuse not to deal with me anymore. Also, he didn't diagnose me with BPD. No one had diagnosed me with it. 

Fast forward to 2020 and the million times in treatment. While I was in residential over the summer, I actually brought it up with the therapist because I had found a really good book on borderline that I was reading. She didn't want me reading it because I guess she wanted me focused on her theory that my problems are all due to some repressed trauma. I continued to read the book because by this point, I fit the criteria better than I had back in 2007 because I'd had several suicide attempts and drinking in addition to the self harm and bulimia. Then I went to another rehab later and had the horrible therapist who supposedly specializes in personality disorders. Maybe he does and it's just overshadowed by him being a horrible, little, hateful man.. anyways.. He talked about separating myself from the borderline, which is something I had been working on. He also accused me of doing everything for attention.. not just the self harm but any time staff found me crying and got concerned he said it was for attention. This led to me being afraid to talk to anyone when I was upset because of what he would say about it. If I asked for help, it was for attention, but if I bottled it up and self harmed then that was also for attention. There was no way to win. As far as offering any solutions, he would just say he didn't have enough time to work on it with me... how if he had longer then he could have helped me. He did make the point that I probably wasn't diagnosed because insurance doesn't want to pay for treatment for borderline. 

So I think my current psychiatrist thought that she was suggesting something new. I think it was supposed to be a revelation that made my life make sense. It was not something new, and it was not something I'd had really good experiences with before. It had been thrown around by psychiatrists who didn't know what to do with me. I had been told not to think about it. I had been told that insurance doesn't cover it and had it used to say that I made myself sad for attention. I had twice tried to get into DBT groups and once been told I didn't have the life experience, and the second time admittedly it was my drinking that made them turn me down for the group (different group/therapist and I don't blame them for that decision). What upset me when my psychiatrist brought it up was not that she said I had borderline, it was the way she made it sound like knowing that I had it would make everything make sense. She made it sound like it would make everything easy. I just have to separate the borderline pain from the depression and figure out which is which.. like that's an easy thing to do. Yes, sometime I can tell when it's the borderline. There's a sort of mental pain that is almost impossible to stand that is clearly different from the depression. There's also the impulse to do something self destructive when anything goes wrong or any feeling is too much that I know is the borderline. Knowing that can be helpful, but it clearly hasn't fixed things. 

She also brought up DBT, and I don't know if she realizes that DBT therapists are not easy to find. There's not a lot of them, and I have no idea how many take my insurance.. Also I don't have a car, so I have to rely on my parents to get me to therapy.. and that's a whole big guilt issue. So this isn't going to be I suddenly know my problem and just have to find one of the magic therapists to fix it. I have to find a therapist that is close enough, that takes my insurance, that is accepting new patients, and will work with me and not just hear how I'm doing and insist I need to go inpatient (which puts the whole process on hold). I have to keep myself alive long enough to do the work, and that's not an easy task. The suicidal thoughts have been increasing. It's probably bad that I'm purging at least once a day now. I have been self harming. Honestly if I tell my psychiatrist about the bulimia and the self harm, I am betting even she would start suggesting inpatient even though she's said we're trying to avoid it. 

Oh and she said she was interested in the borderline criteria regarding intense/unstable personal relationships and how that applied. Now I'm trying to figure out why.. because I think my mind is assuming she is asking because of something I said about a particular relationship. My response was that it used to be an issue, but that now it isn't so much and issue since I have no friends. She said that that will get better, and I will have friends. I'm now wondering if she thinks I have that sort of unhealthy relationship with someone currently in my life. While I have a history of idealizing therapists and doctors (mainly determining my whole self worth based on what they say and their opinion of me), I'm not doing that right now? My relationship with her is.. I tolerate her because she's making an effort to treat me which is more than my last nurse practitioner, but I also resent her cheerfulness and the increasing number of meds I'm on. Nothing about that is intense because I really just don't care. My IOP therapist.. I care very little about anything she says and am not even remotely honest about my life. And my parents.. well that's probably not healthy, but I don't idealize them or devalue them.. they are just my parents who I have to live with right now. So I am paranoid about why relationships was the diagnostic criteria she seemed concerned with. Although she also brought up the recurrent suicidal threats/gestures as being part of why she thinks I have it, and I agree about that.

Wow, that was a much longer post than I expected.. and not very organized. I just needed to get some of that rant out because it's been in my head since wednesday. 

Diagnosis

 Not a lot to say on this at the moment. My doctor tried to make BPD sound really hopeful because now I just have to figure out what's depression and what's BPD and isn't it so great to know more about myself? And I don't even know what the fuck else she said because I know enough about borderline to know it isn't an easy thing to treat. I've read enough about it to know it fits, but no one has wanted to put it on paper.. 

So anyway, I'll just put this here and say something about it later when I'm less pissed off (not so much about this but about the ever increasing number of medications she prescribes)

Do I actually care?

 I've managed not to be hospitalized yet. This is probably because I am lying or minimizing or generally omitting the truth when I am talking in group. I'm a little more honest with my psychiatrist, but even then I am choosing not to bring up the relapse with bulimia or with self harm. In IOP, I am just acting like I'm fine (still reporting my depression as 7/10, so how fine can I be?) and saying I have no suicidal thoughts. In truth, I am not having that many because I have reached the point where I don't even have the energy to plan anything. That means soon I will probably reach the point where I have no energy to purge or self harm, so maybe that's no big deal. 

I am ambivalent and hopeless and yet part of me is trying to think of solutions. Mainly, I spent most of my time in IOP today listening (it's on Zoom) but with Chrome open and looking for treatment facilities. I am searching for something that doesn't exist. Several times professionals have recommended I look for a residential/ longer term inpatient facility that specializes in mental health rather than just substance abuse. A few of such places exist, but they are never covered by my insurance.. some don't take insurance at all. Insurance treats depression as a quick fix. They will cover inpatient for a week or at most 2, which is like a bandaid on a bullet wound. They will cover outpatient treatment, but the only time they cover a 30 day program or more is for substance abuse. I've been to several rehabs that claim to treat dual diagnosis, but they were useless at handling depression. I pretty much continually got worse with the depression, and they either blamed me for not going to all the groups (sorry I was sobbing in bed) or just acted like it was fine. So there's probably no options, and I probably wouldn't want to go anyway. I guess this is me preparing for when I inevitably end up inpatient again and the subject gets brought up of what to do with me after discharge. I think sooner or later it's going to happen. I know this level of depression isn't sustainable. 

It's gotta be me

 I haven't written in a while, and I don't know who is still around on blogger. I just can't get into journaling unless it's on here for some reason, and I guess I need something. 

So what's been going on since I think I last wrote in September:

Hospitalized in October 2020 after a really half assed suicide attempt- ended up in a decent hospital at least because they hardly cared if I read all day and skipped groups (mainly to keep my anxiety manageable)

Of course it did very little for the depression that continued to get worse over the holidays and into the new year. At some point my parents got a dog that is somehow the source of a lot of my stress and that actually was right before the attempt in October I think (I struggle with putting events in order)

I did TMS for a couple months at the end of 2020, which did absolutely nothing

I applied for disability back in November, but I am still waiting on a decision

At some point my now ex-therapist decided she thinks I have ASD.. she may or may not be right. I was supposed to get an assessment somewhere, but the place never called me back and I stopped caring

I went back to the hospital voluntarily in February 2021 because I was planning another attempt but didn't even have the energy to go through with it, so I just told my therapist. The hospital didn't really help again

In April, I got a hotel room planning another attempt.. this time I got too drunk and don't really remember much until I had to check out of the hotel and was a drunken idiot and ended up asking them to call 911. So I was hospitalized at a decent hospital (program was very DBT based) but the psychiatrist honestly tried to get my meds right, but after 2 weeks she let me go even though she said she was really worried about letting me discharge that depressed still.. but at least I planned to do IOP. 

So now I am doing IOP, and I am seeing my current psych nurse practitioner every 2 weeks. I was happy in the last hospital to be down to only a few meds (Wellbutrin, Buspar, Lamictal, and Seroquel). Now she's added Rexulti (added 2 weeks ago) and Lithium (added today). So I'm back on 6 medications, and she talked about adding more if this doesn't work. 

I am just not doing well. The IOP therapist keeps asking what coping skills I am using, and I don't wanna say that I've relapsed with bulimia and now with self harm because I just can't handle this level of depression. She seems not too bothered by my depression being a 7 out of 10 everyday. I admittedly am lying about some things to avoid being hospitalized, but the last however many hospitalizations haven't helped.. so why should I go back? I'm supposed to be listening to these lessons on self compassion and assertiveness and whatever else when what I need is survival skills because I am very close to crisis. My parent's dog is absolutely insane.. from what we can tell he has anxiety about noises and whatever else and his response involves a lot of constant barking (I don't do well with loud noise) and running around frantically and biting things and people. Like he gets into this frantic mood in the morning when my dad is on calls (still working from home unfortunately) and has bitten holes in my coffee creamer carton and then a couple days later my macadamia milk.. he also likes to bite me (not hard enough to break the skin but not playfully) randomly if I move wrong or make the wrong noise (like I can't turn my laptop to show my mom something). So I am about ready to lose it and leave and probably do something bad because I can't handle this, and they're not handling it. My mom is trying but my dad won't call to try to make an appointment with the trainers or try to get him into some kind of doggy daycare that would give us a break and probably help the dog have some fun and relax or something. 

I feel like I must be faking my depression and anxiety at this point because how could things be this bad on this much medication and with this much therapy. Admittedly, I have been told in the past by well meaning therapists that the medication only works if you want it to or work for it.. or some other bullshit that basically blames the mentally ill person for their disease because obviously the medication would work if they were trying hard enough. The IOP therapist is so cheerful and keeps encouraging me to go for walks like that will fix it all. Other patients and the therapist keep saying I need to get out of the house and asking if I could go stay with someone else, and my answer is always the same. I have no place else to go. I don't have much money (basically only what's left of the last economic relief payment), I have no job, I have no friends, I have no family around here that I could go to. I have no car. I have no way to get out of this situation, and they keep telling me to be hopeful and think about what I want in the future. I know that anything I want is not going to happen any time soon. This isn't pessimism. It's realism. I have no idea when I will hear about disability, and even the psychiatrist that did my assessment for IOP basically said not to hope for it (my reply was to chuckle and say not to worry because I haven't had hope in anything for a long time). If I do get it, it probably won't be enough to move out. The IOP therapist asked about working (I can't remember the question exactly) and I said that I am not well enough to work and it would probably end badly if I got a job right now. She questioned what I meant by something bad happened.. but I didn't know how to point out that I lost my last job because I tried to kill myself and missed work. I have attempted suicide several times since then. What about that makes it sound like I should be working? 

So that's my pathetic attempt to update on the past several months. I will try to keep up with this again even if no one is reading. I have no other place to be honest. I admittedly have respect for my psychiatrist because she asked if I had suicidal thoughts today, and of course I said no. She later said that sometimes patients lie or don't talk about certain things because they're afraid that hospitalization will be recommended if they do.. so at least she seems to be paying attention. My IOP therapist believes me when I say that. I mean I clarified to my psychiatrist that I am not actively suicidal, but I am plagued by the thought that at any moment something could push me over the edge. It's like sitting on the edge of a cliff. You might not be planning to fall, but it only takes a small push or a strong wind and then you're falling. That's how this feels. It isn't sustainable.. but maybe the medication will help or maybe it's all my own fault anyway. 

But the only good in my life right now is these

Every picture of my daughter looks a bit goofy

I swear my son could be a model.. 

Soon to be another year

 I don't have much to day. This is mostly the obligatory entry to tell you I am still alive. After the last post, I did (I think) attempt suicide again. There was enough alcohol involved, I don't know with certainty that I took the pills. I did cause a great deal of worry because I left a suicide note for my parents and sent an email to my former residential therapist and my IOP therapist. I survived obviously. I ended up inpatient for a week and then in rehab again. I knew from the beginning that was pointless, but it's so difficult to find any sort of residential or long term treatment for mental health because insurance thinks that a few days in a psych ward should stabilize you for outpatient treatment.. yet they'll pay for several weeks treatment for substance abuse. Anyway, I spent a month at a facility I had been to before and the whole thing was a battle to get to see a psychiatrist and get the doctor to do anything with my meds. She didn't seem comfortable since I have tried so many meds before, but I am just pleading with her (over video chat) that I cannot function the way things are so she has to do something. My therapist was a jackass.. and his specialty is personality disorders. I admit that I think I have BPD, and he agreed. He just kept blaming everything I did on the BPD and blaming the depression on the BPD. He told me I make myself sad for attention. Less than a week before I discharged I had a really bad depression day and said some concerning, hopeless things to the techs.. they got worried and contacted the weekend therapist. She was sweet and talked to me and also talked a lot to me about what I want to do in the future and even did some career test with me. Anyway, my therapists response was to ask if something happened that day or did I just want some attention? Wtf? He also said I need to stop weaponizing my depression.. and that was when I was 2 weeks free from self harm, which is about the only behavior I think that could apply to. His comments basically left me afraid to tell anyone I was struggling because it would prove him right if I asked for any sort of help or attention. I would cry sitting in the very corner of my bed so no one could see me walking by. 

In the end, the depression was as bad as when I got there.. and I'm still a bit scared of what I might do. I have an assessment for an IOP monday that I hope will help.. I think there's a chance I will be sent back IP if I'm honest about the suicidal thoughts and hopelessness. On top of everything wrong with this rehab, they sent me home with totally wrong medication instructions and without some of my meds.. so I'm not able to take one of them until I can get in contact with someone there or see my outpatient psych. The other missing med I can sort of work out with what I have at home.. but seriously? What if I didn't know what I should be taking like a lot of people and actually followed the instructions? I mean I felt really rushed when she handed me the meds, so it's my fault for not reading it carefully.. but there's no excuse for the mistakes they made in the instructions. So things are not exactly going well right now, but I am alive and at home for now. I am happier to be here than suffering like that in rehab. My anxiety was so bad I only left my room for groups (sometimes) and meals that I ate in like 5 minutes. I was crying several times a day. It was a mess.. 

As far as the title of the entry.. my birthday is this month. I really don't feel good about that either. I have had 4 suicide attempts this year. I have been in 3 rehabs, 3 inpatient stays, 2 IOPs, 3 medical hospitals/ERs. This has not been a good year, and things aren't exactly looking up. 

Apathy

I am still stuck in this pattern of considering actions that will help make it easier if I decide to go through with the plan (to go get a bunch of pills and alcohol and a hotel room). I haven't booked the hotel. I mostly keep debating what day I would leave. Today I decided I should change a few passwords because I think my parents could log on to my computer if I didn't. I'm not sure if they have caught on to the fact that I used one password for a lot of accounts. I was trying to decide if they'd be able to get onto my bank website and see where I used my card and how to avoid that.

I am still wavering between apathy and depression. Also there's a bit of general frustration and irritation with my parents and their usually bickering. The rest of the time I am pretty numb. The things I currently look forward to are.. the hotel room.. alcohol.. some kind of food. I honestly have decided that I am unlikely to order food delivered because I never end up with much appetite. I'm leaning toward picking up some basic snacks at the pharmacy when I get pills or the liquor store (it's surprising the interesting snacks this particular store has). It will depend on how much energy and anxiety I have. I have officially finished notes/emails to 1.my current case manager 2. my case manager from residential 3. the therapist from the previous rehab and obviously 4. my family.

But I'm not that depressed? I also did an assignment for IOP. I did an online Refuge Recovery meeting. I read a recovery related book and highlighted some interesting things. I read the nice notes people wrote for me before leaving rehab. I took all my medications today. I don't know what the fuck is going on with me. I think I long to self destruct because I want to feel something. There is no desperation or deep emotional pain. I'm just tired, and I just don't care anymore. I don't know what will make me care or give me any hope or goals for a future. I don't think there is going to be a very long future, so why try? I am just surviving, but I am surviving.