Curtain Twitchers: The Disturbances in SW7 Strike Again

I am still alive.

I did think as I went to bed last night that the pile of tablets I own and the plastic bag looked very tempting but my Mum realised something was up and made me promise not to “do anything stupid” as she couldn’t cope, particularly at the moment.

She is suffering from really bad venlafaxine withdrawal as she changes over to sertraline and I can sympathise. Her GP is being good and weaning her off them slowly. I can remember in my first year of uni when my psych took me off them after a particularly bad overdose (I was in hospital for 10 days and facing renal failure) she just stopped them, there and then. One day I was on 300mg/day the next nothing. She figured I had put enough in my system to last me a lifetime.

My father is being a bastard as usual. The neighbours called the police last night because of the shouting between my parents. I hid upstairs in my bedroom with my iPod turned up to maximum. I wanted to get involved, to make sure my Mum was safe and to ensure that nothing bad was happening but I wasn’t in a good state of mind. In fact I was so irritable yesterday I would have probably ended up thumping my father one, and we all know that he would have just retaliated. Anyway, 3 police officers turned up on our doorstep and the curtains twitched, as per usual. Honestly, I would have thought the neighbours would be used to the police turning up so often at our house by now.

The two blokes went off to speak with my Dad and the female officer spoke with my Mum and then eventually with me. I told her that I couldn’t say much as I was upstairs avoiding being dragged into the mess and was listening to music loudly. She gave me a totally sympathetic look and told me that it must be hard. At this point I burst into tears. It’s always the case that when someone is nice to you that you break down, isn’t it? She was totally professional and told me of organisations that could help me. I told her that I was receiving support etc. and she went back to speak with my Mum. As no crime had been committed they left, after all they couldn’t arrest my Dad for drinking too much, being a complete tosser and shouting the odds; even if they could my Mum would deny everything.

Today is marginally better. I am finding things to do that are keeping me occupied and busy. So far I have washed my car, by hand rather than taking it to the car wash, as Allison said in our last session that using gross motor movements i.e. walking, gardening etc. would make some difference on the serotonin levels. I’m not sure I feel any better but it has left me with an hour and a quarter less of the day to face and a clean car. I still can’t face going for a walk as the feeling to run is too great. I don’t know where I’d run too. The obvious place is Newcastle as I have friends up there who would let me stay a while, but then it is so obvious that it is the first place my parents would look.

I know I am being stupid with the whole ideation of running away. I tried it 10 years ago and got picked up by the Met Police, held in the station for a while (in an interview room not a cell) until my Mum picked me up and gave me a bollocking. The fall out of the consequences is too great. It’s the same thing that is preventing me from not killing myself. If I failed, and given my track record I invariably would, then the consequences would be too great.

I see my therapist on Tuesday where I will talk through the manic phase I have been in, even if it has been provoked by a lack of medication, and the current depressed state. I see Allison on Thursday who will state that I need to use the crisis team more as support out of hours. I tried ringing them last night but I didn’t have the courage or energy to talk things through so I hung up as soon as the guy answered. I can’t get through to her that I don’t find the crisis team particularly helpful. I find them judgmental, patronising and of little use. They suggest the most obvious things when I need help and support and when I ring them because I need to talk with someone through things they ignore my request that I don’t need to be assessed by anyone and turn up at home.

On Friday I see Dr Mc for the first time since recommencing my meds. I will have to be honest with him about not taking them for a while and I know he is going to be angry. Last time he suggested starting a different mood stabiliser as the lamotrigine is clearly not working. I am dreading that he will suggest lithium. I don’t know why I am scared of it so much, maybe the long list of side effects or maybe because it is the drug that proves you have ‘gold standard bipolar’ and I am still trying to convince myself I am not bipolar.

I don’t know why I am trying to ditch the bipolar diagnosis when it is so clearly true. If I was successful then I would be left with complex post-traumatic stress disorder, eating disorder NOS and borderline traits. I can guarantee the borderline traits would be re-escalated to full blown BPD and I don’t particularly want that.I want him to take me off the reboxetine and put me back onto venlafaxine. This is for two reasons, a) because venlafaxine is the only anti-depressant that hasn’t sent me sky-high every time the dose is increased and b) because one of the major side effects I suffer from with venlafaxine is loss of appetite and weight loss. When I restarted it last time I lost a stone and a half. I can’t tell Dr Mc the second reason though and he seems convinced that reboxetine is the way forwards.

Ruth