Writing has been part of my life for years, long before I ever started blogging. I used to write just for me, and at times, Therapist, because unless I wrote it down, I couldn't remember how things were for me between sessions. I was looking for something else entirely today when I came across this, it's something I wrote in the two days before I went on holiday to the psych unit. I've amended it slightly to take out references to names etc....
I’m tired. Saw Therapist today and I think it’s finally, finally starting to sink in with me that she can’t fix things for me. She can listen to me for an hour a week, but that’s where her responsibility ends. She seemed surprised that I hadn’t already twigged depression was treatment resistant. It just never occurred to me. I think I’m over denying what’s happening, I have an illness and that’s it, but now I’m so angry about it, and so angry that there’s no quick fix. I’m tired of being scatty, disorganised, unmotivated, low.............depressed. I know it won’t always be like this, I know it’ll pass, but it’s not good enough. I’m tired of struggling and trying and falling down and having to pick myself up again, over and over. I’m tired of the pressure it’s putting us all under. I want to make it better but I don’t have the motivation, not right now at least. But I have to allow that I’ve been sick, that its been an exceptionally tough week. It would be so easy to give in....................Today is really hard. I'm ready to give up. Hubby is angry with me for not doing enough, but I don't want to try any more. I get it. Therapist can't help me. Dr can't help me. All hospital seem able to do is give me more medication. So it has to be me. But I can't find the energy. I want someone else to take responsibility..............................Thursday. Form really not good. I think I'm giving up. Went to aware last night, the group was really supportive, and all reckon I'm headed for trouble if something doesn't change soon. I think I want to go to hospital, it seems like the only way I'll get a break. But I don't know if things are bad enough to justify that. Want to ask Therapist but I can't. Am angry with her, feel like she doesn't give a shit anymore. Like she's humouring me, that I'm exaggerating everything. I've looked for too much from her and I've over stepped the mark. It kind of feels like I'm coming to the end of the road with her, different to how it's felt before. Like this time there really isn't anything else to be said. I feel like I've worn out my welcome....................
And the day after I wrote the above was the start of my stay in the hospital
. Two things struck me as a read this. Three actually - what a phenomenally bad state I was in this time two years ago, how much has changed since then, and equally, how much is still the same. The depression has lifted, there's no doubt about that. I've been scared plenty of times in the intervening years that it was coming back, but reading this........I'm a million miles from where I was then. But, I'm still wrestling with the same issues - Therapist, dependence, whether or not she genuinely cares about me, about helping me, thinking that there's no point in continuing with her any more. It's incredibly frustrating to see how much progress I've made in some ways, but that in others that I'm barely any further along than I was then. Granted, I have a hell of a lot more understanding now. The confusion about Therapist is still there, but I know why, and I can talk to her about it now. Back then I couldn't even begin to acknowledge it in front of her. Back then, I'm not sure I'd ever even heard of bpd
, and if I had, I wouldn't for a second have begun to consider it could apply to me.
A lot has changed, for sure. I'm better than I've ever been. Depression, for now, is not an issue. Bpd is, but it's getting less and less. Two years seems like a really, really long time to have been working with all of this, but in reality, it's been there my whole life, albeit unrecognised for most of it. Now though, I can see it, and more importantly, I can see what's changed. I just need to keep it up.
Labels: borderline personality disorder, change, depression, hospital admission, Medication, symptoms, therapist