I'm still here

Wow - didn't realise how long it has been since I last posted.  Once Ski school started I have been thrown in at the deep end, told on day 2 that I needed to work more hours and an adhoc job in a shop that I have worked in on and off for a couple of years has become a daily pastime.
So, my review of 2011 (a bit late, I know):
January - drunk. relationship problems
February - dumped.  Drank some more
March - breakdown Overdose of tablets and stay in hospital.
April - moved into own studio apartment.  Holiday in England for 2 weeks. Drank lots
May - looked for work. Signed on at jobcentre
June - no work
July - no work
August - Started walking friend's dog when she returned to college. Finally felt a semblance of "home" in my new apartment.
September - all too much.  Lots of doctor's appointments, psych appointments. Meds changed. Doc's wanted me to go into psychiatric clinic.
October - went back to UK for 3 weeks instead of Psychiatric clinic. Similar.
November - waited for snow
December - snow came, ski season started.  Went from no work to 44 plus hours a week.

And then 2012. After a crappy Christmas (working so didn't even open my few presents until a couple of days later) and a lonely New Year (ended up drinking too much and sadly joining the tourist info girls for a drink outside in the rain) I then had my birthday to look forward to. Only before that, the dog which I had been walking unfortunately had to be put down.  He was 2 years old nad had an incurable autoimmune disease.  I still miss him (I am more of a cat person but this dog was ace) and cried lots.
The rest of January I was wrestling with the demon drink and knew I was drinking too much, every day as a routine.  The 30th of January was the last time alcohol passed my lips.  Wish me luck.  My friend in Spain who has been dry for over 4 years has been a lot of support and very inspirational.
February so far has been too busy for me to think, let alone write anything.  My mood has dropped - so far this year I have felt pretty manic and on top of the world.  Now I feel like shit.  I got Bronchitis and a Sinus infection last week and had 2 days off work, plus yesterday and today (not a popular decision with Ski School as it is the busy season i.e. time off only if you are dying) but I felt sooo grotty and am so exhausted that I couldn't get out of bed that it was a tough but necessary decision.  I am not sure if this is the depression creeping in again.
Sometimes I think I might as well just go back to the UK now and forget going at the end of season.  But I want to make sure everything is square here before I leave.  All my wages go directly to the Social now and I send them my bills for them to pay.  Luckily in January I earned 3500 chf (about 2000gbp) - sounds a lot hey, but you don't live in Switzerland.
Good news about my apartment though - my ex has decided to take it on as it is cheap and "our" cat lives here - he doesn't want him to move again.  This is great as the catflap is fitted to a window which I would have had to get replaced.  Plus it is warm (hence my ex has stayed over 5 nights out of the last 7 as he has no heating).
I don't know, all feels like such a muddle at the moment.  I just want to get packed and get over to England but am disillusioned by the state of the UK, living in a town I hate and the need to earn money.

RANT RANT RANT RANT RANT

OK, I am feeling in a very ranty mood (had you guessed?) and am very irritable and anxious about leaving the apartment. Which I had to. To get cigarettes. (Saw 15 people and it was very scary).

*Trigger warnings about Suicide*

As I put on Facebook, and I quote:

"I don't care who Gary Speed is, it's a tragedy for his FAMILY not for FOOTBALL. Think of that you two faced morons, when yesterday if it was one of your family members/friends you would have been whinging about how selfish they are for committing suicide."

Because I really do feel this. I was probably on Twitter too long reading the most random retweets and comments about how sad it was and just felt, "what about the forgotten others, who don't earn millions, who don't have high pressured jobs, who are scraping by on benefits.  What about those who commit suicide? There isn't so much outcry when that gets reported.  And how many times have I heard from the stupid English who frequent the bars for Apres Ski in this mountain town who spout on about someone they've heard who has committed suicide (friend/family member/ friend of family member) as being selfish and cowardly for taking their own life.

And the news reports about Gary Speed - quotes from friends and other players at how this is a tragedy for football.  Er...What? Tragedy for the family methinks.  Tragedy that someone with a bit of depression is expected to pull themselves together. Tragedy that there is still so much stigma about mental health and that it takes a bloody celebrity to get people taking this seriously.  Now I am not knocking that Gary Speed's suicide is anything other than very, very sad.  But this applies to ANYONE who commits suicide.  A friend of Gary (I think some kind of football manager) said that he had seen him the day before and he seemed his "usual self".

Oh Dear.

Non-mentalists just don't get it, do they.

WE HIDE IT WELL.

WE DON'T ANNOUNCE THAT TOMORROW MORNING WE ARE GOING TO KILL OURSELVES. 

We hide it and we do it. We may have planned it.  It might have been a spur of the moment thing. And if we don't succeed then everyone starts bandering the phrase "Cry for Help". OMG, I nearly punched my Psychiatrist when he mentioned that to me.  A cry for help implies that we are trying to get attention for what we have done.  It's more like a last minute change of mind when going through the attempt.  Or that someone has picked up on what is going on and sent the ambulance round before we could finish it off. For me, it was the look my cat gave me and I just thought, "who's going to feed him?". Does that sound pathetic - yes it does, but that was the wakeup call to my doctor who shipped me off to hospital.  And I was embarrassed afterwards.  I was mortified.  Mainly because I hadn't suceeded in making the unbearable pain go away.  Thats why I like to sleep so much - when I am asleep, I don't have to experience the crippling pain and emotions.  Sometimes the thought of going to sleep for a very long time seems more appealing than just 8 hours. But unfortunately, the same shit greets you when you open your eyes.

Imagine having some disease that causes you unbearable pain and discomfort, that people around you don't want to try and understand, or if they do and you find a confidante, quickly becomes bored of you "whinging on" because that's just life isn't it.

I watched my dad die of cancer over a six month period.  He couldn't move, he couldn't speak so he couldn't communicate.  He was in that hospital bed having his arse wiped and his trach tube painfully suctioned all day and all night.  When they finally put him on a syringe driver, you know it is the end and I swear, if I could have broken into that box and pushed the lot of morphine in, I would of.  He was a shell, being kept alive.  And for who? For us, who didn't want to accept he is dying. How courageous he was and fought to the end.

Someone who suffers mentally, because it is an unseen illness, and sees fit to end their pain may well do so. You just don't see the cancerous thoughts and emotions that fill their body. What a cowardly and selfish thing to do because what about the family and their loved ones?

For me personally, thoughts of family and friends didn't come into it.  Just my cat.  Because I have suffered on my own. And those who tried to understand got bored and never talked about my feelings.  So I started to keep them to myself. And my focus was to stop my pain, much as going to my doctor and asking for some painkillers for a broken bone. And when the meds that are meant to help with this pain stop working and the diagnosis that I have Treatment Resistant Depression kind of puts me in a mood where a lot of hope is lost, it is difficult for me to see where this cycle will end and whether the pain will become umbearable again. (March 2011 and again Sept 11). Luckily I (now) have a proper crisis plan and when I feel myself sliding I'm straight back to my GP on a daily basis and they fast track me a psych appointment. But that's not to say I feel safe around myself in the lows.

And when the day comes when I have to put my cat down because he is in pain, then I will do so with love and understanding that I am doing it for him and not keeping him alive unnecessarily just to satisfy my emotional needs.

Please, if you know of someone with mental  illness, even if you are bored shitless of listening to them whinge (because you'd much rather listen to happy stuff), please don't abandon them.  Go with them to the doctor to get them help.  Read books about how you can help.  Go to mental health charities and ask how you can help. Try to understand their pain, even if you think it is trivial, it is not to them. Everything is relative.

Psychiatrist Appointment Review

So I saw my lovely Psych last Monday and to be honest I thought I couldn't be bothered to talk and have been feeling grrreeeeeaaaatttttt! But when I got there I suddenly found myself becoming very articulate, clear thinking and demanding answers to questions in a much more forthright manner than usual (drugs or....?)
The Cipralex started working pretty quickly after he prescribed it to me at the end of September (10mg/day) and he seemed pleased with that, as am I and I explained about my clear thinking, positive mood, feeling HAPPY when I walked my friend's dog in the forest the other day (totally wierd and unexpected experience as I don't think I've had a flash of that since 2008) and that in general I am now fine and not mad. So he's upped it to 20mg/day in the morning to top up the Venlafaxine (now down to 150mg) with the Seroquel as a top up when needed (still every night to get me to sleep although I've had one night since getting back from the UK I had a normal night's sleep without it - yeay!) and the stash of other old medications at the back of my drugs drawer that he doesn't know I still have - never know when they might come in handy heh heh.
So, then onto the ECT debate.  Some of you have emailed me with some very sage advice which I am very grateful for.  I agree that in CH the psychiatric profession seem quite....well....keen to pursue this option in cases such as mine but I am still researching, researching, researching.  I explained to Dr I that at the moment there is no way I need it, but who knows what I will agree to when in the depths of despair and depression, so I would rather be informed as much as possible before that situation would arise and if necessary draw up a treatment agreement/non agreement stating what I would or would not consent to.  I asked when they give the treatment i.e. when I am feeling great and do it anyway, or when I am feeling shit.  He said they were able to guage how effective it was being if I started when I feel like shit.  He went through how many treatments there would be and that usually when I started it would be as an inpatient for two weeks to monitor me and then be treated as an outpatient until the "required" number of treatments had occured and then.....get this.....once a month "maintenance treatment"! When did that enter the plan? So, after a bit more discussion about how my family felt and the conflicting views of friends, plus my indecisiveness still as I am still confused by it all, I agreed to visit the Private Psych clinic where I was incarcerated 4 years ago around this time of year, for an appointment to discuss further.
However, whatever I decide, it is unlikely any treatment of such will be carried out in Switzerland for me.  I am planning on going back to the UK next April/May and start in Ski School in a couple of weeks and there is NO WAY I would be able to be admitted as an inpatient or attend outpatient treatments a couple of times a week over the winter AT ALL, unless I go a bit mad in the meantime (which is a possibility, who knows where my moods take me) in which case, as I mentioned earlier, I want to have a Crisis Treatment Plan in place that everyone understands what I have or haven't agreed to.  I need to look up the Swiss law anyway on being "sectioned" as I would imagine they are probably a bit more strict over here given their love of law and order.
Watch this space people.....I will let you know how that appointment goes and they had better be prepared because I will be demanding answers.

Happy Holiday

And it really was.  I just spent 3 weeks in the UK, on the Isles of Scilly and in Hastings and Bristol seeing all my lovely friends and my nephews and neice.
That aside, I had some good chats with friends about the proposed treatment plans and all were really supportive surprisingly.  All were of the opinion that any chance given to me to help recovery is a chance worth taking. Hmm. I spoke to my brother about it and I think he was a bit shocked if a little bemused as to what ECT actually entails.  But hopefully he understands that things have not been easy at all.  My mum came to visit me in Hastings and I had an in depth chat with her.  She is relieved that I am going to return to the UK and live back on the south coast where I have godparents nearby, my best mate (who I will be living with) and my best mate's parents who are like second family for me.  I think she was shocked but she took it well.  I felt releived to have spoken to her and she was really supportive and a bit emotional.  It's strange, I wouldn't say I am overly close with mum but she steps up to the plate in a crisis and easy to talk to.
First thing I did when I returned to Switzerland was book an appointment with my "GP", Dr A.  I thought I had a cold sore before I went to the UK but it was actually impetigo and after a course of penicillin based antibiotics which I am allergic to (old GP said try them and stop if I get a reaction - I had a slight reaction but thought it was best to discontinue in case it got worse.  I am definately allergic) and an unsuccessful dabble with cortisone cream I finally went to a walk in centre, queued up with the methadone addicts and got some antibiotic cream, which has really worked.
I digress. Dr A agreed to continue the cream and prescribed (non penicillin) antibiotics. Then, as he has been in Zimbabwe doing aid work since August/September we had a good natter (that's what I love about him, he totally overruns appointments with me although the Swissie in the waiting room probably hadn't got much else to do anyway.  He asked me how the appointment with my psychiatrist went and I said about the change in medication and the ECT discussion.  He asked if I was "shocked" (fnaah fnaah) about the suggestion and I said of course I was and that I was undecided and that it was difficult to consider it when I feel so much better at the moment.  Do I then wait until I am in the depths again?  He said Dr I and he considered that a lot of people in my situation have big highs and big lows and somewhere in the middle.  But that in my case I had deep lows and "kind of OK" which was my somewhere in the middle most of the time.  He mentioned mood disorder again but as I am still in denial as to what that might be, I didn't push that point further. Anyway, I explained that the break in the UK had helped rather than be admitted as an inpatient and that the Cipralex seemed to be working really well in combination with the other medications.
I see Dr A again tomorrow (so maybe he will have some pirated DVD's from Zimbabwe for me) and to check the impetigo which is clearing up nicely (although am pissed off I have got it as I haven't been near little germ filled fuckers since winter and apparently they are the culprits of the infection). I see Dr I (my lovely psychiatrist) on the 7th November.
Tonight I am feeling rather lonely.  Since all the socialising in the UK, which exhausted me, I was a bit naughty last night and had too much alcohol.  So I am attributing this to my low mood today and the fact that I was crying uncontrollably at the end of a film on Channel 5 earlier.  I even missed fire practice this week as I couldn't face being in a crowd of people and the effort of speaking Swiss, which I am still struggling to adjust to after my holiday (usually it comes fluently to me - time to put back on German TV).  I am contemplating the thought of a winter alone (although I am settled in NOT being in a relationship) but winter I must work to give me time to claim back my social insurance and pay off any remaining bills before the plan of returning to the UK in April 12.  And I am TERRIFIED of going back even though it is the right thing to do, and living in a large town.  I will certainly be saving up money to get me a place in Cornwall asap, much smaller environment.
If it hadn't been for my cat since returning, I think my mood would be through the floor right now.  Samkitten hasn't left my side since I returned and rarely goes out (although being a cat the ground is probably a little bit chilly on his paws). I love my cat. I need to find him a rural home in the UK with one of my friends or I will miss him so much.  He's got his winter coat now which is really useful for mopping up my snotty nose and streaming tears at the moment.

I'm Back

Wow, didn't realise how long it was since I last posted.
OK, so last week I went to the UK for a week.  Before this, a couple of things happened here to really upset me.
First, I found that all the Norway stuff, NOTW and Amy Winehouses death REALLY touched me.  I was getting all ranty about right and wrong, crying and feeling generally shit about life and the world we live in.  This culminated in an arguement with my exes sister in a bar about how wrong she was when she spouted that Amy Winehouse brought it all on herself as she had all the support she needed and didn't do anything about her addictions.  I argued that addictions are complicated and she was compelled to keep her drugs and alcohol lifestyle because of her addicitions which she couldn't really help at that stage (bear in mind my exes sister went out with a serious drug addict).  Anyway, i stormed out the bar in a rage and came home and cried and cried.  She had also said that people "like that" can help themselves where as people with cancer can't etc. etc.  So I went home and sent a ranty email to my psychiatrist, as  follows:

Hello,

OK, BILLS – the situation is this.  I am now with the Sozialdienst – Herr A, so anything he needs to know, you can tell him. He has been really helpful and I had 2 appointments with him last week.  I am back with Avanex – they paid my hospital bill for March but anything 1^st Jan – 30^th June they will not pay until the arrears are cleared (hence I am back to the same situation as 2 years ago).  Herr A is trying to get agreement that they will pay the bills.  However, if they won’t pay them, I can offer 100chf a month to clear the arrears of medical bills (i.e. yours).  Could you plese let AKCM know this so they don’t register with the Betreibungsamt. I will also need Einzahlungscheins to repay.

Me -  was good, now not so good.  I have been generally OK but over the last two weeks fighting dropping lower and lower.  There is so much happening in the world outside Wengen that I can’t understand and frightens me and is making me anxious and upset (Norway, Phone Hacking, Amy Winehouse’s death).  In fact, I have just left RBar after an argument about Amy Winehouse which upset me as apparently she had lots of help and is still dead therefore it is her fault, it’s not like she had cancer anyway.  And this comes from J’s sister who went out with e drug addict from L for many years (M in case you don’t already know him).  Walked home crying – why don’t people get it that addiction for some people is a real problem no matter how much help they get? I feel so worthless and pathetic that I only have depression and should just “get over it”.  Maybe I should, but these last few days I have felt so low without explanation and I just can’t get it across to people.  And yet, for the week before I was on top of the world and reading self help books and making plans.

My schoolfriend wants me in England this weekend for her mother’s birthday.  Her mother is like a second mother for me (ex-nurse too) so she has paid for me to go.  Maybe it will do me some good to get off the mountain for a while.

I thought I was doing so well – OK, no job ( I didn’t get that job last month and a couple of others I really thought I was in with a chance of rejected me) – all I am doing is dog-walking for a friend of mine who has returned to college but that’s only as a friend to get me out of the house and to be doing something rather than nothing.  I see Dr A on 4^th August when I come back from the UK.

I know I am rambling about nothing, but I don’t want to book another appointment until I have paid your bills.  But I am just so upset at the moment.  I am still not sleeping (unless I take Seroquel) which is not helping but I really feel lost and lonely and stupid and useless.  And I have lots of questions for you – I have been reading too many books about how Psychiatrists are all influenced by Big Pharma and that the brain chemical theory is all a myth so I feel even more stupid and useless because I feel the antidepressants do help me in some way, but maybe it is all in my head because you are conning me (according to them). I don’t know what to believe anymore, all I know is I don’t feel right.  And I don’t understand it because I felt good for a while – full of plans and ideas and a way forward.  But today I don’t.  And speaking to people they just make me feel worse because apparently I am in control of getting help and therefore have no right to feel the way I do.  After all, it’s not like I’ve got cancer, is it?

Sorry to take up your time, I am writing this when I am feeling quite low and confused.

Me

Actually, this is the first time I have rad it back and maybe it doesn't seem so bad that I emailed him as it was a definate cringe factor for me that I had sent it.  Anyway, luckily he was out of the office until 4th August.  However, when I was on the train to the airport one of his colleagues phoned me but I couldn't really speak as I was on a train full of people and didn't want to discuss my mental state of mind so I just said I was "fine" (?!).

I'd also had a rant on facebook which my exes sister saw because she "liked" one of my comments.  I take that as her way of apology.  she has been super nice to me since I came back from the UK.

So when I was away I demanded that my ex stay at my place to look after our cat (my cat now).  Which he did.  I filled the fridge full of food as it was a bank holiday and he was working stupid hours for the August 1st celebrations.  When I came back last Wednesday, the studio was in a TIP - dirty, messy, his stuff everwhere and NO FOOD.  I'd been up since 5 a.m., got back at 4pm and was not best pleased.  To be fair, when he saw me (I went straight to the bar after shopping) he did apologise about the mess but I was soooooo cross I couldn't even speak to him.  He came round to my flat many hours later to "pick up his stuff" even though I had told him not to and he ended up staying the night.  I think he was wanting a bit of sex (as to complicate the matter he is now my fuck buddy) but he didn't get any as I am on.  Anyway, two days later he came round again during the day for a "shower" and I am sure sex but I lied and said I still had my period as I just couldn't be bothered.  And then he wants me to sort out HIS health insurance, tax, debt in the UK etc.  I just keep saying yeah I'll do it and keep leaving it.  WHY do I keep enabling him?

So the UK - it was FANTASTIC! I went to see my schoolfriend whom I have known for over 20 years (god I sound old).  She paid for my flights so I could be there for her mum's 70th birthday which was a lovely day.  Her mum is like a second mum to me and it was great to see her and feel loved and cared for.  Anyway, E (my friend) took me out to see her social life and I met some of her new friends who are lovely. They made me feel so welcome.  I didn't go out every time she did because I was knackered from the Seroquel, but I slept better, ate better and felt better for the week there.  In fact, her friends were begging me to stay and not go home by the end of the week.  For the first time in ages I felt included and wanted and loved.  I can't leave this bloody country until all this health insurance thing is sorted out.  Even though I think I can return to the UK and get a decent job with more money to pay the debt back quicker, I don't think I am allowed to leave the country permanently with a debt.

So now I am back home.  And I have dropped into a hole again.  I missed my doctors appointment on the 4th as I was asleep so have rescheduled.  But I feel lonely and very sad and dwelling on stuff. I am usually back on Twitter, facebook and blogging but I just haven't felt like it.  I've been drinking a lot too, which doesn't help. I am content with life here but it's not enough.  And then I think, if I go back to the UK, is it just another distraction, major life changing thing that I tend to do when life gets too much which doesn't actually solve anything?

Confused.

Friends

Ok, I admit I find it hard to trust people and to make friends, but I feel very sad today that I have lost some friends whom I have made effort to keep in touch with. One is not a friend but seems to have crept into my place as a best friend of someone important to me. He never speaks to me now and I don't know what to say that will bring him back to me. This makes me cry a lot at the moment.

One "friend" from last year seemed to ask a lot of personal questions of my (kind of) nephew about my relationship and then proceeded to ask if my boyfriend was up for an affair.

But I think I have made a good friend this summer. She doesn't "know" of course, I still don't tell people about me after the last time, but she is fun to spend time with. She is also absolutely no "threat" to me (when I get this in a low state) and we spend most of the time plotting how to get the man she is in lust with.

I'm probably not the best person to ask because even five years later I cry most days about losing the love of my life. Thats when I can't forgive myself, for handling things badly and not getting treatment many many years earlier. These are the thoughts which run through my head when I am in a bad place that no tablets or penknife or hair pulling can take away. Today is one of those days and I am very, very sad. My heart hurts.