Friday, 20 November 2009

It's a new dawn, a new day and I'm feeling bad.

Am down to 225mg of Effexor as my meds are being reduced and the shock to my system is finally kicking in.  I am having "brain shivers" and in the afternoon I felt my old way of wanting to just disappear (and by this I mean get on a train or bus or drive to anywhere without telling anyone) which I haven't felt for a very long time.  I think there are maybe three reasons why I don't feel so great:
1) Reduced meds side effects (Dr B told me to observe any changes).
2) I was asked yesterday by one of the psychologists whether I liked Christmas. Felt sad about the effort I used to make to have some form of "special" Christmas but i don't bother now.  There seems no point because no-one around me wants to make an effort and so I never get memories of good ones to replace the bad. So I only have the last few in the UK to think about and that makes me sad because they were with my ex and were the best.
3) In my appointment the other day, Dr H refered to whether I carried out risky behaviour.  I said it was all relative and wasn't really sure what he meant, but it hit me today (not sure if this is along the right lines) that:
I slept around after a split from the love of my life
I drank to mask the urge to do wild things, so I could blame the wild things on alcohol (dancing on bars, flirting etc.)
I have been in risky situations and not given a damn e.g. walking alone in a big city at night, ending up at a total strangers party.
I have tried to steal stupid things from pubs like ash trays and other random acts of vandalism without giving a damn.
I kissed another man when my head was mixed up and I lost the love of my life.  I still to this day do not know why I did it but I know it made me feel anything but invisible. Like I was worth something.
I nearly lost two friends because (again when drunk) I managed to upset them/their friend etc.
I do active stuff like Canyon swing, Rock climbing, aggressive ski-ing, paragliding alone without ever having had a parachute on my back before.  In all these, I haven't felt the adrenalin rush i would have had a few years ago, I just do it and don't think of the dangers.


All the above have at times made me feel absolutely mortified afterwards, particularly losing friends and most of all my ex.  What is worse is that I can't forgive myself. Even worse than that, I feel like going out tonight and "causing some shit" like a whirlwind through the village and feel that if I can't that I need to hurt myself in some way instead.  I have hidden my penknife (the scars haven't disappeared from last time), I am typing this sitting right next to my man but just can't articulate what I should be telling him and feel so dangerous at the moment that I desperately want to go to a place where I can be watched and given shit loads of drugs to make me sleep for the next 2 days.
I feel so lonely.  Not like just being on my own, which I like (I am a "loner" anyway), just the hollow feeling inside.
I am scaring myself right now.
I wish this would all go away. But I am trapped by this fucking illness and have fucked up my life over and over and over again.  I can't believe I haven't made these connections before and so now I feel dreadful and stupid and worthless because I couldn't even get that right.
I hope this is just because of the reduction in meds, otherwise I am fucked.

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