Hello again.
I am a little more lucid today as I (unwillingly) try and cut down on the painkillers at the recommendation of my GP who I saw yesterday. I am back on all my psych meds. I don’t really know why I stopped taking them, but I did on the morning of my operation and I didn’t take them since. However, a couple of events over the last few days have made me realise that I really, really need to take them.
The first incident involved a trip to the Chelsea & Westminster to get my legs and stomach sutured, glued and steri-stripped back together. I mentioned to the boyfriend (more on that later) that I looked like the Bride of Frankenstein, and he said that he thought the Bride of Frankenstein looks like Helena Bonham Carter, and the insinuation was that she is sexy as hell, so if I looked like her then it would be good. I ended up having 74 sutures put into 6 cuts on my thighs and one on my stomach. I then had numerous others steri-stripped back together using god knows how many packets of leukostrips and some of them glued, using 3 little tubes of dermabond. Happy days.
The second event happened yesterday and involved me dissociating badly. I was in tears, hyperventilating and not making much sense. I sent the boyfriend a random text asking if I could call him and when I spoke to him, I say spoke – apparently I just sobbed – all I could do was tell him that he shouldn’t love me. I don’t remember the conversation, which is probably just as well. A bit later my mum arrived home from being out to find me curled up under my duvet in floods of tears with pieces of paper and post-it notes all around my room reading “go away” “shut up” “leave me alone” “be quiet” and the only explanation for these is that I was hearing and seeing very horrible things. I’ll be glad when the quetiapine kicks back in.
Anyway, you did read that correctly a few paragraphs ago, I am in a relationship with the most fantastic guy I think I have ever met. He loves me “for who I am” which amazes me still, and I still don’t quite believe him, but I think I’m getting better at it. Everytime I speak to him I get that fluttering, warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach and it aches, physically aches that he lives so far away. He is kind, witty, funny, sarcastic, generous, patient, loving, thoughtful and on the same wave length as me. At first I have been a bit of a bitch to him and have deliberately said things to try and make him leave, but he has stayed. What is more, when I had admitted that I had acted in such a manipulative way, he said he understood. I don’t really know why I was trying to push him away, because I honestly would not know what I would do without him.
It took us ages to say that scary 4 letter word beginning with ‘L’ (love) and I still feel all gooey when he tells me that he loves me. In fact it took us ages to admit that we are in a relationship, but it’s on Facebook now, so it must be true!
I fell over this morning and really hurt my ankle so ended up seeing my GP who referred me to x-ray at the Chelsea and Westminster, who were fantastic. Apparently the bone/tendon anchor is still in place and the x-ray looks nice and healthy. This means that I can go ahead with having the cast and sutures removed on Tuesday and a new weight-bearing cast put on.
I really need to stop being so clumsy.
Ruth
March 28, 2008 at 9:02 pm
Ah facebook, the controlling metaphor for all thing werewolf bites, zombie attacks and officiating your relationship status – keep hold of him – even if he does have a thing for Helena
March 28, 2008 at 11:29 pm
Glad to read your update. Sounds like things are moving in the right direction.
Dissociation is no fun, I know. Hope the meds will help. Stay safe.
March 29, 2008 at 3:36 pm
exactscience – In a roundabout way I find his ‘thing’ for Helena quite endearing and trust me, I have no intention whatsoever of letting him go anywhere.
Disillusioned – dissociation is horrible but the meds will help with the hallucinations and hopefully things are moving in the right direction for once.