This discussion is interesting. I dislike the term "service user" very much. And i've been scolded for referring to my problems as "mental illness" about as many times as professionals have called it that. Some people call it "your demons" or "your difficulties", but i'm not sure about those either. I have a feeling that "mental illness" as a term is not used as much as it would because it builds itself into ones identity and makes it harder to let go of.

The strain at home is difficult. Everyone seems to be going downhill, and are brought down further by being upset about the others. There's been fighting (terrifying physical variety included), bitching, relapses, tears, and a general feeling of yuckiness.

( potentially triggering )

Fuck.

I've come to realise that i feel very lonely. Not lonely as in a lack of people around, but a lack of people who i think actually care. There's nothing like feeling ill in some way to make you realise who really cares. And when you're ill you need people more than ever.

I came to the realisation that a person who i've recently befriended (and have spent lots of time with over other friends) absolutely definitely is only lovely to me because he's after sex. It REALLY hurts. I realised for definite today when i fainted and bashed my head on the radiator (i've had so little appetite and energy that food has gone out the window, and Body is not best pleased). He didn't even talk to me, just left me there on the floor.

I was so low today that i did a little SI. Not much at all, just scratches. But my housemate caught me when i went to clean up my arm afterwards (we only have one sink, and it's not in a bathroom as such - the sink, bath and toilet are in seperate rooms) and panicked and called an ambulance. Total unneccessary dramaz and embarrassment. The paramedics took me into the ambulance to do my b/p and then said they'd take me up to hospital and i said no. I wanted my dinner, i needed to take my meds, i have a routine i stick to - if i get out of that routine i P.A.N.I.C. We had a big argument and they said that if i refused to come they'd get the police to arrest me and take me to hospital. I was driven off screaming and held down, i just couldn't bear to be there.
I've only just got home after 5 hours in A&E. I had no phone, no shoes, no keys, no money, and i hadn't eaten for hours... so when i was discharged at about 11pm i ended up just sat on the pavement outside A&E in the rain just crying.

I'm furious with the paramedics. I don't know if they'd really call the police (i've successfully refused to be taken to hospital by ambulance several times successfully, though they prefer not to), but that just seems harsh, to be made to be taken to hospital against your will.

I'm mortified.

My housemates aren't talking to me.

I just simply don't want to exist anymore.

What IS it about self-harm that people find so incredibly difficult to deal with??
There's lots of coping mechanisms people use. Drinking, smoking, drugs, shopping, sex, eating, not eating... you name it. None of those seem to be reacted to quite in the same way as SI. I wonder if it's because SI can't be mistaken for anything other than evidence of emotional turmoil. Any of those other coping mechanisms are used for reasons other than coping - for pleasure, socially, etc - and maybe people can convince themselves that that's what the other coping mechanisms are really about? Or maybe it's because SI is so weird to those who don't do it, an alien concept, and that makes them scared.

This line of thought was triggered by a conversation with a paramedic:
Him: "I don't mean to be patronising* but isn't there something better to do than that?" *gestures at my SI marks* "A better way to cope?"
Me: "Possibly, but there are plenty worse ways."
Him: "Yes, there are, but lets not mention those. That is NOT where i wanted this conversation to go. Not at all." *Looks angry*

It really annoys me that people can get so patronising and annoying over SI. If we get really objective about this, SI is relatively harmless. In comparison with the other possible coping mechanisms i mentioned above, SI is not *that* bad.
It's especially annoying because people assume that you've not even considered better coping mechanisms before resorting to SI too. And their comments completely trivialises the emotions involved. My support worker came round today and asked about the SI. The SI isn't the issue, it's the terrifying painful paranoia/terror/panic/distress/agony that led to me resorting to SI that is the real problem.

* Why is it that when someone starts a sentence with a preface like "i don't mean to be patronising/offensive/racist/whatever..." then it almost always means that whatever follows the preface IS patronising/offensive/racist/whatever? They may as well skip the preface and launch right in.

My emotions are all over the place. In fact my mind is all over the place. I feel like a mess.

I was hoping my epic freakout (and consequent dealings with paramedics, police and crisis team) on thursday was a one-off blip, but i'm still struggling. It really hit this afternoon when i was walking around town. Walking endlessly is one of my less harmful (though i am losing quite a bit of weight...eek) coping mechanisms that i've been resorting to a lot recently, walking round and round the streets for hours.
A charity was doing that thing where they stop people in the street and try persuade them to set up a direct debit to them, and one guy intentionally stopped me 3 times, even though he knew he'd already stopped me. The first time i told him "you can't persuade me" (just because my livelihood right now is almost all supported directly by charity*, so giving to other charities doesn't seem right) and he replied "i can tell by looking at you!", which really upset me - did my appearance suggest to him that i'm not charitable or giving, that i'm selfish? The third time he stopped me he goes "you look like you need to talk to me!" and grinned cheesily. I got angry and lost it, and said something along the lines of "Do i look like i'm rich and able to give to charity or something?! I live in a house for near-homeless people, i'm supported by charities myself, i claim benefits, i'm very ill, and i've got enough charity on my doorstep already, a 16-year-old kid slept on my sofa last night cos he had nowhere else to go. It's FUCKED UP, there's too many people who are needy!" and i rambled on crazily, and then burst into tears. How incredibly immensely embarrassing. I cried all the way home. Partly because recently i've become so acutely aware of how desperately needy some people are, how incredibly unfair and unjust it is that there's such a huge gap between rich and poor and priveleged and needy, and then how unworthy i feel of anyones help. And partly because i'm just a tearful mess recently. And on the way home i had the thing which i haven't had in ages where i simply forget where i am. I stopped in the street and was just at loss as to where i was or how to get home. It made me cry even more. And then i realised i was just one street from home.
Madness.

* do you think benefits are charity? People don't tend to see them that way, often because we're just so used to them. But i guess in a way they're state and law enforced charity. I think i see them that way.

I've spent almost the entirity of my waking day reading Where Does it Hurt? by Max Pemberton. I first came across the authors first book when i was admitted to hospital after an OD, and dad brought Trust Me, I'm a Junior Doctor for me to read as a laugh. I then found out that he'd written a followup because an extract was in The Big Issue.
Both books are biographical - about Pembertons experiences being a junior doctor. The first one was an amusing and enjoyable read, and the second was too, except it was more. Where Does It Hurt? is about him working for a homelessness project and drug dependency unit. I was completely absorbed by the book because it was full of mental illness, addiction (which i identify with to an extent via my ED and SI) and social problems. All stuff that i'm absolutely fascinated by, in part because of my own experiences. I pass people sleeping rough on the street each day, people-watch on benches next to people who live in hostels swigging cider, i have a friend who's been in the throes of drug addiction since we were 16, everyone binge-drinks, i've sat in enough psychiatric units... and i always wonder how it all comes to this, how has our society let so many people down? Where Does It Hurt? smacks peoples assumptions about addicts, the mentally ill and the homeless.

I think these kindof problems interest me because they feel so close to home. If i didn't have the sympathy of my dad, where would i be right now? I would be homeless. Probably not crouching in a gutter somewhere, but i would be. In the book a huge proportion of the homeless were people with mental health problems. They take the same drugs as me, they'd go to the same doctors, nurses, therapists, consultants, etc. They're just not really any different.

EDs and SI are addictions in my opinion, both psychologically and physically. It feels unfair that drug addicts are condemned more than those with other addictions. If you look at the condemnation, the condemner will usually say that it's the fault of the person for starting. But with an alcoholic almost everyone drinks alcohol and we don't think "maybe i shouldn't do this because i might become an alcoholic". When i started restricting my diet i thought i was being healthy, it never occurred to me until it was far too late that i was stuck in an ED, an addiction. Children are allowed to play on 2p machines in the arcades at the seaside without everyone worrying about a gambling addiction. People expose themselves to things they could become addicted to constantly, and it's an unlucky combination of our psychology and biology as to whether we become addicted. Same as with our exposure to lifes stresses - some combination of our psychology and biology determines whether we'll be fine, or whether we'll develop a mental illness.
Drugs do tempt me. Finding something to escape the horror of living with depression et al seems fabulous. But i thought it through, and decided it's not worth the risk. It's not like i haven't been there before - trying to blot out my feelings with eating, not eating, various purgatory techniques, bit of alcohol, painkillers, shopping. But each time i used those i'm not sure it's worth it afterwards. And so i came to the decision that i'm not going to expose myself to things that i know are potentially addictive and that i can avoid - no drugs, no smoking, no alcohol. I've got enough addictiveness set aside within myself without adding to it anymore - the fleeting temptation to not eat, to eat too much of something, to take lax, etc. Maybe those urges will always be with me? I don't know. But i don't want to carry more with me, because i've enough already waiting to sneak back in.
I see people swapping one addiction for another a lot. Or one obsession for another. I've done it myself. ED recovery meant drinking every night for quite a while. And then at some point it moved over to self-harm, and that self-harm got steadily worse and worse. It frustrates me when i see others exposing themselves to new things they could so easily get addicted to (particularly drugs), when they've only just kicked another life-threatening addiction. I feel helpless, a bit like when you see someone cross the road in front of traffic. You can see the potential for disaster, but there's nothing you can really do. And part of the frustration you feel is frustration you feel at yourself too, because these are your own traps too.

Sortof on this subject - now i have ESA and DLA i need to find somewhere to live. For some reason the last public housing list wasn't sent to me, which is annoying. I've been looking for a room in Lincoln, and am thoroughly sick of the words "Sorry, no DSS". Out of 67 rooms in Lincoln, 3 accept DSS. I'm very nervous about all this home-hunting stuff, i feel out of my depth completely. 

I'm 'home', aka in Ciren with dad and Emmy.
Emmy has changed a bit. She seems less self-centred (well, a little bit!), more energetic (she's so damn busy! At the moment her main thing is getting work at all the nearest festivals), and just... different. As she's sortof a child i guess i'm seeing her grow up a chunk each time i see her every few weeks/months; dad says it's like how it was when i was tiny - each time he came home after being away for a few days i'd look and seem different.
 
Tomorrow i'm having dental surgery. Two wisdom teeth, big chunks of gum and scar tissue (thanks bulimia), all coming out, under general anaesthetic. Can't say i'm looking forward to it lol.

I had my hair cut today. It's the second hairdressers i've ever been to. Before i was 5 i think my mum cut my hair. Then from 5-9 when i lived in Dorset it was a combination of my mum and a visit-at-home hairdresser. And from age 9 until today i've always gone to the same hairdressers, always with my mum or dad.
As a result of this i am SO ignorant about hair. Until recently i didn't know what "perm", "wax", and a whole load of terms you probably take for granted meant. Today i got a bob without reallllllllly knowing what a bob is. It looks good though so that's okay! 

Following on from this where i wondered if i still had depression, i'm now wondering if i have an ED or anxiety disorder. I have pretty debilitating food and weight issues, but i wouldn't call them a full-blown eating disorder at the moment, i'm not really engaging in any eating disorder 'methods'. As for anxiety disorder i'm not having panic attacks, not particularly debilitated - mainly because i'm not exposing myself to much that would challenge me. Part of this is practice and exposure - things like travelling across the country by trains would have made me so terribly anxious once, but today (though i found it stressful) i was okay. And lastly, i'm not self-harming.
Maybe i'm "in remission" from mental illness. They're all there, but sat in the background, ready to bubble up as soon as my guard is down or i stretch too far.

On the train today just as i was coming into Glos i finished the book i was reading - The Best Day of my Life. I'm very proud because i've been working on it for ages and ages, months actually. It wasn't a really good book but it did make me think. Some peoples best day of their life (it's a compilation of descriptions written by celebrities of the best day of their lives) were so mundane which contrasted with incredible achievements - eg picking potatoes in an allotment vs reaching the summit of Mount Everest. I've realised happiness isn't about huge conventional achievements. Some peoples achievements can seem pretty small - some of the things i've achieved that i'm really proud of aren't really that special; eg yesterday i asked a stranger a question - that's a big thing for me. Going to university, getting high qualifications, climbing a 'career ladder', earning lots of money - i'm not sure they fulfil you, even though it's drilled into you that that is what you're 'meant' to do (well, 16 years in full-time education tells you that anyway). 
One guy in the book, an MP, wrote that having an ordinary life is a failure of attitude as opposed to a failure of life. I strongly disagree. Who's he to judge a person like that?! There is nothing wrong with having an ordinary life, it's not a failure of life OR attitude. Some people don't lead ordinary lives and achieve immense things, but it's not a good thing - think of Hitler! Some people experience such horrific disadvantages in life that leading an 'ordinary life' is bliss and a fantastic achievement on their part.

Yesterday Simon and I climbed the hill, stopping at almost every bench (thanks to my exhaustion). We walked around the cathedral. On the east side there's a tiny little building, almost a hut, built in the same materials as the cathedral. I'd always wondered what was in it. We saw a maintenance guy open its little door and do something inside - there was a big rumbling noise and the ground beneath our feet shook. I went over and asked what was in the hut. It turns out it's a giant pump that brings underground water up pipes on the outside of the cathedral into the roof for if there's a fire.
We walked round the south side and we saw some rare birds that are living in the roof - peregrine falcons.

Then we went to the castle. We walked around the top of the walls overlooking the city in all directions. We climbed the observation tower (it was added in the victorian times for astrology and to look out for escaped prisoners, and during world war II it was used for watching for fires) which was amazing. We saw the Roman well. And the best-preserved remaining Magna Carta. And we went in the prison and looked in the cells, and saw where prisoners used to be hung.
It was fascinating. I love how Lincoln is absolutely steeped in history.

 

Depression:

Potential causes of onset:
- stress
- fear of growing up and of entering the 'outside world' (partly taken from my mums view of the world as being threatening which caused her to be over-protective and see the danger in everything)
- feelings of hopelessness regarding anxiety disorder and ED
- not talking through my feelings with others
- genetic predisposition (mum and my dads mother both had depression) 
- big changes in parenting (switch from my mum to my dad)

Potential causes of continuation:
- mums death and consequent grief
- social isolation
- the ED
- avoiding potential stress (and consequently feeling my options are repressed)
- the overdoses
- moving to Lincoln away from family/friends/familiarity - homesickness and loneliness
- continued fear of the aforementioned growing up and of entering the 'outside world'
- increasing feeling of hopelessness due to inaffective treatments and continued problems
- debilitating hypersomnia and lack of energy
- stress
- severe panic attacks at college

Eating disorder:

Potential causes of onset:
- stress
- obsessive-compulsive tendencies
- genetic element (family members have OCD, other anxiety disorders and alcoholism)
- need for feeling of 'control'
- (subconsciously) a way to communicate my problems
- societal/media influence
- discomfort with being big (and the discrepency between what people assume a big person is like as a person and what i'm like)
- addictive relationship with sugary foods
- messages in the media about the health benefits/problems associated with certain foods
- poor communication and expression of emotions within my family
- a (subconscious) way of remaining in a child-like state
- bullying about my weight and size (which eased off when i lost weight)
- over-awareness of my body and of judgement due to social anxiety

Potential causes of continuation:
- finding it to be a successful coping mechanism to deal with difficult emotions
- an addictive 'high' from certain aspects
- biological changes causing continued problems (eg low weight causing binging)
- reinforcement (normalising it) from friends with EDs
- continued need for feeling of control
- continued and worsened societal/media influence
- adopting it as part of my identity
- using it as a replacement interest/hobby to those that i've lost to depression
- continued discomfort with being big
- reinforcement from my mums orthorexia
- using it as a means to avoid growing up
- a way to communicate my problems
- to ease other self-destructive urges
- obsession with all things related

Panic Disorder:

Potential causes of onset:
- other anxiety problems
- physical illness and allergies
- blood sugar instability
- generally anxious disposition

Potential causes of continuation:
- not working hard enough at the treatment exercises
- (subconsciously) not wanting to recover because it communicated to others my distress
- not wanting to avoid attacks because they provide a sense of relief from the continuous underlying anxiety
- depression
- isolation leading to mild agoraphobia
- being too distracted by more serious problems to commit to recovery

Social anxiety:

Potential causes of onset:
- social isolation throughout childhood
- genetic predisposition
- low self-esteem in childhood
- self-consciousness due to size
- bullying

Potential causes of continuation:
- inability to distinguish between social anxiety and my personality
- not working hard enough at CBT self-help due to having more important problems to address

I've skipped on OCD, body dysmorphia and self-harm. Self-harm is generally the coping mechanism that i turn to in the absence of my ED, and i consider it to be within my control and not a significant problem. OCD and body dysmorphia are somewhat under the umbrella of my ED, though they do exist independently, but not to a significantly debilitating extent.

I'm low.
Not entirely surprising because i've been in this depression-breeding-ground for the last 4 days - loneliness, boredom, lack of exercise. It actually makes me feel better seeing that written down because there's a solid reason why i feel shit. Maybe that's why depression has been so unbearable recently because i haven't been able to pin a reason on it. When i was EDed i had a reason, when mum died i did, when i was having panic attacks and paranoia i did, but now they're kinda gone. 
Today i read a news story about how JK Rowling had depression (here). The headlines are all like "Rowling admits to suicidal thoughts!", and for some reason it's making me really angry. Maybe because i'm jealous that someone is having such fuss made over thoughts, thoughts which have plagued me daily for two years and i've acted on several times, and have affected my friends so much worse. The way i should respond to the story is to be glad for JK to not feel like that anymore, and to have hope, but i don't. Maybe that makes me selfish or something.
I really want to cut but my knife has seriously dissapeared. It's annoying. Though mayyyybe a good thing.

Depression triggers:
- boredom (allowing my mind to roam)
- lack of exercise
- loneliness (why does that cause depression?)
- anxiety/stress
- dissapointment

K, so today i was looking in my diary and was delighted to discover it's been:
2 weeks since i last cut*
4 weeks since my last panic attack
and 7 weeks since my last paranoid delusion

Impressive! 
It's also weird how such big things in my life basically dissapear, and i didn't really notice. To an extent it makes sense because i've been busy with other forms of insanity.
I'm tempted to brush off the latter two because I feel they're down to taking anti-psychotics, and i shouldn't be celebrating the effectiveness of potentially-brain-mushing drugs. However psych nurse says that 2mg a day is too little to effect things as big as panic attacks and paranoia, so considering i'm only taking 1mg a day, a lot of it must be down to me. Maybe it's a bit of a placebo effect. Or maybe it's because i'm calmer now i've specialised at college and am settled with a nice group with my own space. Or maybe i really am doing well.
And cutting... i think maybe being in hospital and then having a fat bandage over my entire SI-area meant i broke the cycle. Or maybe the attempts acting like one big fat lump of SI psychologically. Whatever, it's cool.

College went kinda well today. I stayed ALL day.

*don't be pedantic and remind me i tried yesterday but got disturbed - it's still good!

 I've found a really good website. http://www.dbtselfhelp.com/html/ 
It's got really good advice for dealing with crisis situations, like suicidality, SI urges, mood-drops, depersonalisation, etc.
And the stuff that DBT teaches you is all there in the form of online 'lessons'. 
I think maybe DBT is the type of therapy that's appropriate for me actually. CBT was good for SA and EDs, but not so much depression, SI and the other associated stuff.

Removed my dressings from my wrist. You'd never have known what i'd done. The scarring is actually (slightly dissapointingly) mild; i guess deepness doesn't neccessarily equal scarring. I've decided to see the scarring as a good thing - not as a weakness, but as a sign of the strength it took to get through all the shitness. 

I have been
to hell and
back.
and let me
tell you,
it was
wonderful.

- Louise Bourgeois.

I want to be able to say i'm back for good one day, and make it wonderful.

I wish i could say that everything was reasonable like yesterday. It's not.
Saw the consultant today. Pointless exercise, as usual. Not allowed to come off or change my psych meds, and when i asked how the hell i'm meant to get better she said it will come with time. Yeah, whatever. Out of a strange curiosity, i gave up on my attempts at lying and told her flat out i have been planning to kill myself on monday. "See you in a month's time" she says less than 5 minutes later as the appointment winds up. I guess she doesn't take me seriously because people who are sure about suicide wouldn't tell their psychs about it.
My psych nurse says if i want to come off my psych meds i should. I'm glad i stuck it out through the shit things she said because she's actually growing on me now. I think she's actually brutally honest, and therefore hard to take sometimes.
Got an SI wound so bad not even the thickest of steristrips can prevent it gaping open. I'm quite gorey in how i like to look inside deep cuts and wonder what the stuff i see is. 
Had my first full-blown vasovagal attack at college today. Embarrassing.
I was a total pain in the ass this afternoon-evening. Not that i'm not a pain most of the time, but i was particularly bad. I hate how illness clouds my perception so much that i end up being forced into being all me-me-me, i feel horrendous about it afterwards. I feel selfish for trying to live this 'normal' life and inflicting the selfishness element on other people. Need to work on it. 

Emmy: I'm going to take a photo of your gross arm.
KJ: Wtf?!
Emmy: It's for my drama project. We have to take photos of things which lead to Leannes characters suicide.  

Charming.

Maybe college wasn't such a good idea. I was just too depressed. At least i wasn't bored and depressed, i guess. Amount of work done - zilch. And i'm pretty sure Justin hates me, and i've pissed everyone else off. If i were them i'd be pissed off having to put up with me actually.

Budapest:
- does not do tea without milk.
- has the cheapest bloody food and drink EVER (£2 can buy you more takeaway food than you could manage).
- is rather cold.
- is a bit weird. But not bad-weird i don't think.
- is made up of two cities - Buda (all hilly and mountainous) and Pest (all flat) on either sides of the river Danube.

And i'm pleased, because i survived. And i learnt new stuff. And was really sociable and made loads of new friends*. Lots of progress there.

*though do strongly dislike how when everyone is off their faces they suddenly decide that i'm their best friend, but then the next day it's back to normal (often with me the only one remembering because i was stone-cold sober). It's like a continuous knock. Grrahh - stupid drink. 
But nah, i did make a lot of friends aside.

Walked in on Emmy at her computer. She quickly minimised the webpage she was on, but not quick enough to prevent me seeing what it was. It was an SI info site.
I never really thought it bothered other people, considering everyone knows. But then, here's my uncaring and insensitive little sister going and looking it up. Justin says it upsets him to see it. Joss says she'd rather have the panic attacks thanks. Everyone else is bombarding me with tips to give it up.
And i'm still wondering, what's the big deal? I starved and binged and purged and abused lax and drank and overdosed and walked out in front of cars and tried slit my wrists. And i thought no-one really gave a shit. And then i do a little thing like have a little SI and it's like BANG.. absolute upset.

My poor poor laptop appears to be ill.
Crashed 3 times in its last 2 hours of use. And it's sssoooo sllooowwww. It had been getting slower gradually, but the last couple of days it's been almost unusable. Programs freezing temporarily, and getting all confused.
Don't know what's wrong.

I feel like an awful terrible person. Don't know why really. I feel like a fraud - people like me but they only like me because they haven't found out the awful truth that i'm actually a bitch. I have nightmares that people at college will "find out" and wake up sweating. The paranoia i've had runs along this theme too. I also noticed that when i meet someone for the first time i assume that they'll hate me, which makes me cold and shy, and it's then a surprise when they don't. And then i don't want to show any aspect of myself because i expect they'll dislike me if i do.

Joss was talking to me and trying to understand why i SI. She asked if i'm proud of it, and thinks i am. Like, what?! She pointed out that usually people hide such things. I bloody did, for years. It's only come out recently. Since splitting with Loz actually, and that week when i walked down the middle of the dual carriageway. It's like i don't care anymore. Loz used guilt-trip me over SI so i battled so hard, but now it's like a release - i can do it as much as i fucking like and noone can do anything about it. And i don't give a shit if people see, because i've been hiding it for fucking years, and besides, everyone knows i'm fucked up now and i don't care if people know it. I just hate that because i've given up hiding it it's now assumed to be attention-seeking. But then, that's what every ignorant person thinks, and it bothers me so much. 

3 days til Budapest.