I am not easy to live with.

If you have mental health problems or live with someone who has mental health problems I'm sure you will know we're not easy to live with. I live with just my mother and its difficult. We love each other very much but we infuriate each other.

Take this evening for example. I was exhausted and asleep so my mother went food shopping without me. When she got back I was awake and went through it all: here is my stream of thought: 'Tofu: good, salad: all fine, plenty of soya milk: yep, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?! She knows I specifically told her no more vegan ice cream. She wants me to be fat, she hates me, why is she doing this to me?! And there are no almonds, she's so hypocritical, she's telling me to be healthy, where are my bloody almonds?!' For anyone who does not have an ED (and probably for some people that do) I sound like a massive, over-reactionary bitch. I just want to cry right now. Actually considering walking Lord knows how far to the nearest 24hour place to get everything I need but I need to throw out the ice cream without her getting mad too. I don't think its that cheap.

Right, off to traipse through deepest, darkest Toxteth in search of some bloody almonds. At 9:30 at night. I'm fucking mental. Maybe that's the problem.

What's it like to breathe normally?!

I swear I think I've forgotten. Currently I am anxious. I don't know what about, my head isn't racing much more than normally but the physical symptoms are almost unbearable. I cannae breathe properly, sitting still is difficult, I feel like I have hundreds of milligrams of caffeine or cocaine surging through my body yet I don't know why. Half of me wants to crawl back into bed because this is exhausting, the other half wants to strip my clothes off, dive into the River Mersey and sprint swim to Ireland. Obviously none of these is practical because I have a life to live, not to mention dignity to maintain. So instead I'm going for lunch with my grandparents, who will probably speculate I'm on some sort of drug and scold me for being jumpy and irritable. I hate this.

Yesterday I felt so low as well, I refused to talk and wondered who'd care if I was no longer here. Logic tells me lots of people would care: my mother, my aunt, my friends etc but there's no place for logic in depression. 

Ultra-anxious.

Went to see my psychologist yesterday and she gave me the approval for Fluoxetine. She's referring me to a psychiatrist. This, in my opinion, is good news and hopefully it'll lend some relief to my life. I really like my therapist but she is such an enabler, I feel I could tell her I was sleeping with 17 people a night and she'd put it down to normal teenage behaviour. Maybe I'm exaggerating a little and what she says could very well be right, I don't know.

I've been buzzing with anxiety over the last two days though, my personal life, workload and love life are hectic, to say the least. I feel like I've had a gazillion cups of coffee and that everything must be done very urgently no time to breathe or sleep must keep going shower shop work eat go out. I just want a break for one second!

Its not like I don't try.

I follow the advice, I do the exercise my mother, therapist and doctors urge me to do yet it has been failing to lift my spirits. Is it any wonder I feel so Goddamn hopeless?

This week I've been called a bad friend, felt like an awful daughter and been a slacking student. What am I doing?! I want to hide in bed all month.

"I just want to live a normal life."

Went to the Doctor's at 4. It was a really difficult appointment, there were tears and at first he seemed really reluctant to do anything but after I laid it out clearly and explained that I didn't think it was necessarily something wrong in my life but something wrong chemically in my mind he seemed more receptive. He's going to speak to my therapist about giving me Fluoxetine (Prozac). I've heard mixed reviews but I'm going to give it ago. I never thought I'd be taking Prozac though. Craziness.

In better news, my friend T saw a comment I left on a friend's blog in which I basically state I'm struggling with mental health problems. She reached out and said if I ever needed her she's there, which I was really grateful for. Will I take her up on her offer? Probably not, but its nice to know support's there if I need it.

Going to play Touch Rugby in about an hour even though I'm tired, I need to get out of the house and take an hour out of my head!

Acid reflux & anticipation.

After purging last night for the first time in a good few days (an excellent streak for me) I had atrocious, agonising acid reflux last night. So bad that, combined with being uber-anxious, I did not get to sleep until past 1 this morning. Not so good as I had a trip out this morning to collect data. It has not completely gone away. My throat is taking a battering these days, I've had a persistent cough since summer as well, which I suppose I should bring up with my doctor.

I am anxious with anticipation due to my doctor's appointment tomorrow. The main fear going through my head is "what if they don't believe me?!". Despite my extensive mental health files dating back 8 or so years I'm stressed they'll think I'm just after drugs for recreation or attention seeking or something along those lines. I keep going over what I'm going to say. I need to phrase it in a way that a) lays the problem out clearly, b) does not make me seem too at risk, c) shows them I'm at the end of my fucking reel with the thoughts I'm constantly having. How do I balance that? I could take a friend with me but I don't particularly want to drag them into my problems - everyone is so stressed and busy right now, myself included. 

Cuts and pills.

Not cuts to my skin but cuts to my services. My (much needed) therapy sessions have been cut back to what seems to be review sessions. I am not happy about this. I'm not happy full stop, I need the help these sessions give me. At the moment my best hope is a charity that has offered me counselling with a volunteer which I've decided to give a go but I'm cynical. The NHS has my history, my notes, my therapist knows how to deal with me and I worry that a counsellor wouldn't. It has not been an easy week.

Anyway, the cutting of my therapy has tipped me over the edge into making an appointment with my GP about getting on the meds. Such fun. My mum's asked me whether I'm going to ask for something for my anxiety or depression, as if I can't have both. This, ironically, has made me more anxious. What to do? I'm hoping I'll get someone who is sympathetic and will talk to me about options, generally those working at my surgery are nice people who try and give you options. We'll see. Appointment's on Tuesday.