You know you’re having a bad day when….

…. You get two calls to the crisis team in before supper*

I’m going to have to issue one of those ‘trigger warnings’ now. I don’t want to upset anybody or put them in a bad place so please bow out now if you are vulnerable about – self harm, suicide attempts, weird food stuff or mental madness in general.

Is there anybody left? Are you sure? This is quite long and not very cheery until the very end….

So, yeah, self harm, suicide attempts, weird food stuff and a bit of mental madness to boot. I have some larks don’t I?

For three or four days my brain was on best behaviour. I managed to trick it into playing a game of ‘let’s just try really, really hard for a while and see what happens’ and it worked until my brain decided it wasn’t going along with that anymore. As brain quite rightly pointed out, what’s the point of trying really, really hard if you end up where you always do anyway (which, for the record, is curled up in a teeny tiny ball trying desperately not to make plans to end your life sometime soon)?

I had a rotten dream last night. I could have done without it because when I woke up and remembered it (at just gone three am this morning) it stirred up some stuff that most definitely didn’t need stirring. I guess everyone has stuff that doesn’t need stirring – I’ve got a lot of it and if I have learned only one thing about stirring stuff that doesn’t need stirring it’s that if you absolutely have to stir it you should NEVER EVER do it between the hours of 10pm and 7am because of the golden rule of safe stirring: stirring is not be done when it is quiet and everyone else is asleep.

Thankfully (maybe) not everyone was asleep because there was my local friendly crisis team – on call 24/7 for my every mental madness emergency. So I phoned them up and told them I’d broken the golden rule of safe stirring and was now going a bit mental.

We tried to work out ‘what had gotten into me’ but for some reason (I don’t know which reason) I didn’t tell them the whole truth. I told them I wasn’t hungry and there was nothing obviously dangerous in the flat. Two breaths, two pointless lies. Why? Just why?

The truth was that I wasn’t hungry but starving hungry having eaten nothing but a bag of Doritos all day. Actually, here’s another rule for you. If you absolutely have to be mental, avoid being starving and mental at the same time AT ALL COSTS. It’s rubbish. Truly rubbish.

Why hadn’t I eaten anything all day? I decided not to. That was it. I just decided and once I’m decided on something like that I’m totally decided. The theory goes is that I use deciding not to eat in order to punish myself somehow. I don’t know if that’s it but it’s as good a theory as any, so I guess I have to go with it. Why didn’t I tell the nice crisis support people that I hadn’t eaten? Because I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep it all to myself.

Why was there something dangerous in the flat? Well there wasn’t – not in the ‘usual’ sense which is really just to say that I hadn’t deliberately brought anything into the flat in order to deliberately hurt myself. But a girl’s got to shave her legs, right? So there were ‘the emergency disposable razors’, which were not intended to be dangerous but which could be with a little determination) And I didn’t tell the crisis team chaps about them because this was an emergency and I had all the determination I needed. I was mental and angry and frightened and, in all honesty, I didn’t want anyone to talk me down. I dismantled the disposable razors with relative ease and bob’s your uncle, fanny’s your aunt…. I hurt myself. It hurt and made me feel small and foolish and even more frightened. It was supposed to make it better – it was supposed to get rid of whatever it was that had gotten in to me.

A period of pacing commenced. I felt like I was waiting for something. I don’t know what – maybe it was the thing I thought was going to happen the other day? I decided to curl up and do my waiting on the couch. It started to get light and I wondered if that was what I was waiting for – morning, because everything is better in the morning? Except it isn’t – it’s exactly the same. Every single lousy morning is exactly the same (that was broken brain’s take on it by the way).

I tried the crisis team again because I didn’t think I was going to make it. They suggested diazepam (another emergency ration, but GP approved unlike the disposable razors) and if I couldn’t do that (I’m scared of diazepam because it’s habit forming) it was ‘maybe time to think about coming in’.

Okay. So I thought about ‘coming in’ and dismissed that because I felt more mental than I’d ever felt before and decided that if I went in, I’d probably never get out again. I didn’t want that to happen. So I carried on waiting. Waiting and thinking. It all got a bit boo hoo and grizzly.

And then there was an epiphany moment in WeeGee’s broken brain. What I was waiting for was…. the last day WeeGee would ever spend on Earth. Not only that – I’d made it. No more waiting! Today was the day.

Once I had decided that this was the last day that WeeGee would spend on the planet things got a bit easier. There are things you need to organise if you’re about to bow out like making sure ‘the box’ is in order. ‘The box’ lives on top of my wardrobe and has a copy of my will, bank account details, information that my parents need about probate, insurance document, strict instructions about dealing with The Cat, a couple of photos and some letters. Ever since I got hit by a bus** I’ve been paranoid about making things as easy as possible for my loved ones  if I check out early – whether at my own hand or by an act of god. ‘The box’ was in order.

I had a shower and got ready. It took a while to decide what I was going to wear but in the end I settled on the skirt I wanted to be buried in (don’t ask – it’s stupid). I fed the little man and then fed him again. I think that was guilt. And then I headed to the outside world to purchase a tin of Heinz tomato soup and 32 painkillers. It’s a bit dangerous that I know that there is a shop within walking distance that sells painkillers 32 at a time. I see that now but I don’t know how to ‘unknow’ it. That is a problem for another day.

I got back – opened the curtains (because no-one wants to spend their last moments on planet Earth in the dark) and heated up the soup. Heinz tomato soup isn’t much of a last supper is it? All I can say is that if you have decided that this is the last day you will spend on planet earth YOU ARE CLEARLY NOT OF YOUR RIGHT MIND and are almost certainly in no fit state to decide what your last meal should be.

I washed up and emptied the bins and then fed Gryff again. A lot of food this time in case I wasn’t found for days. And then I sat staring at a box of 32 painkillers for a very long time. First of all I put them very far away from me, and gradually I brought them closer until they were right in front of my face. And I looked at them for another very long time.

By this time Gryff was sitting in ‘croissant cat’ position looking at me looking at the painkillers. And I came all over all soppy. I thought about the worst life night of my life ever (which was also the worst night of Gryff’s life) and how when I finally got to bed that night be had jumped up, burrowed under the covers and curled up next to my tummy and stayed there all night to stay safe and to keep me safe. And I wondered who he would curl up with to be safe when he realised that I, the only person he ever trusted, wasn’t coming back. And then I thought about Mr Friendly, and Mr Wise, Mrs Worry and Mr Hilarious who would all, in their own ways, blame themselves even though it was nothing to do with them. And I thought about my mum who would never, ever be able to understand no matter hard she tried.

And then I thought FOR FUCK’S SAKE GAIL WEEGEE. Are you really going to top yourself BECAUSE YOU HAD A BAD DREAM? After everything that happened and everything you bounced back from? Seriously! What is the matter with you……. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

‘Pull yourself together’ is not something you should ever say to someone with mental health problems. But, if you yourself are mental you are allowed to say it to yourself. Not because it will make it all better but because it will stop it all getting worse. Sometimes that is all you can hope for – things not getting worse.

Where am I now? I’m mostly back. I’m fed and watered and safe. I’m playing ‘let’s just try really, really hard for a while and see what happens’ once more. It’s the only game I’ve ever been any good at.

Love from WeeGee  xx

PS – I re-read this one and realised that it’s a bit wonky and meandering and mental. Sorry. But you know me 🙂

*Dinner if you aren’t pretentious like me. Or tea if you are from The North

**Which is a whole ‘nother story!

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49 comments

  1. Fecking dreams. A whole lots of mentalness can come from a single dream. Bastards.
    And I agree, mentalness and starving doesn’t go well together, but neither does mentalness and eating a shit load of sugar!
    I’m sorry my computer was buggered and I haven’t been around. Hugs xox

        1. Crossant cat are brilliant and I’d have it that my cat does the best croissant cat of all. I’d prove it if he wasn’t camera shy!

          I had to catch up with two days worth of blogging and went a bit mad – GOLD medal for you for doing a week (let’s be all olympic about it!)

          1. Lol I should make it my mission to take a photo of every croissant cat I come across in the future. I hope you will catch him croissanting one day 🙂
            I started yesterday! I’m kind of cheating and just reading ALL of my favourites, which is actually quite a few! xox

        1. Aha! Now it makes perfect sense! My cat does this at times, but he prefers to be sprawled out on his back with his fat pink belly showing for all to see and all limbs extended – we’ll need to come up with a clever name for this one!
          (stay tuned for pics of this hilarious pose)

  2. Dont feel ashamed. Im sure a lot of people on here (including myself) and out there have been through exactly the same thoughts and even some more than thoughts. Im just glad you have your kitty to help pull you through and give you something to hang on to. Mine do. Stay strong. We are out here listening and understanding and no judgement. Kat 🙂 Can you post a pic of your cat?

      1. I looooove him, especially the pic where he is hanging over the corner of the table. Absolutely adorable!!!! I have a tabby as well. You can see mine on my blogs. The Love of My Life and The Other Love of My Life. Thanks. Kat 🙂

  3. I do not know you, but I am glad that you are safe now. I felt bad for you and bad for Gryff and bad for myself as I know where you are coming from and I have a female cat, Sara, who is afraid of everyone, but me and that is most of the time, sometimes she is afraid of me as well, she is a rescue cat. Take care of yourself and Gryff.

  4. Im so glad you didnt do it. Gryff wouldnt have had his Mum anymore. He needs you. He would have missed you. I have two cats and they are what keeps me going. Just thinking of them not having their Mum anymore and not understanding why, brings tears to my eyes. I love them so much. It is great to feel needed by them. And who would look after them and love them like I do? Stay strong. Kat 🙂

    1. I know. Thinking about it all now I feel thoroughly ashamed of myself because I love him more than anything in the world. He never lets me down and I’m not going to let him down either. I don’t care if people think he’s only a cat. To me he is so much more 🙂

  5. I deal with a lot of depression, and sadness, and heartache, and anxiety and all that, not as severe as some, but it gets bad sometimes. Reading this was difficult, but I understood. Just know there are people out there hoping and wishing for you to be here tomorrow.

    And, just so you know, I’ve gotten good at that “trying really, really hard for as long as I can” game, too. It sort of feels like a losing battle, doesn’t it?

  6. you know…I was all set to nominate you for one of those awards and it all seems so imbecilic now…like it would make it all better. We all seem to be going through this weirdness for lack of a better word, some quicker than others. I was drinking and pills. You had you plans. I’m glad you also saw the wiser of the two ways. I wish I knew why it happens. Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t do it for the sake of all that would miss you because it does suck badly being left behind. I know that one. Do something nice for yourself now please and for your Gryff, they’re extremely intuitive.
    Hugs Dot

    1. Thank you Dotty. I have now reached that point when I feel foolish about the whole thing. But I’m taking care of me and I’m taking care of the little man and we’re both holding on tight because that’s what you do.

      I can’t really begin to imagine what being left behind is really like. It must suck and then some.

      I hope you managed to stop drinking. My mantra for that one is ‘sorrows float’. It’s so true.

      Love , WeeGee xx

      1. The meds I’m taking make it easier now. It seems the desire to kill myself went away and so far I am at day 13 without a drink. I’m relieved because I was in a frenzy and I really don’t know why, you know the feeling.
        Dot

  7. Oh WeeGee… As I said in my email, I am so sorry you were feeling the way you were and that you had the night you did. That makes me sad and it makes me wish so much I could’ve helped in some way. But you made it through. I am quite grateful for that, and good thing for other people/pets who need us, right? Chin up friend. Sending you strength and hugs.

  8. My heart would be cut down the middle–horizontally, and then vertically, and then diagonally, and diagonally again–if things had happened differently. I say this not to impose some empty, passive-aggressive guilt trip intended to prevent you from off-ing yourself, but rather as a deeply sincere (though however insignificant it may be in the grand scheme of your world) gesture of honest love, from one stranger to another… And if it matters, I totally *get* it.

    I have struggled with anorexia since I was 11. I’m told that I’m “recovered”, whatever that means, by the “professionals”, whatever that means, and that I’m living a considerably healthy and functional life, given my history, whatever that means.

    I have five kids now. Two are twins. Four are mine by birth, and those four are all ages 4 and under. (You do the math.) The terror, the isolation, the self-loathing, all of it hit me like a hurricane the moment I found out I was pregnant… The first time. Well, I basically spent four years pregnant. I can’t even begin to describe those days of my life… All day, every day… And it was totally out of my control.

    I share all this with you, to suggest something very powerful (or at least, it was empowering for me.) You see, I have always been thin. Technically, even when I would binge for months at a time on ice cream and Doritos (yes, I love them too), I never could get my weight to the standard “healthy” level. Even while pregnant with twins, I was 10 pounds underweight for my height. Crazy.

    Even crazier, I hate how thin I am. I’ve always hated it. I was always a lady trapped in a teenage boy’s body, and even as a 28 year-old mother of five, I’m built exactly the same. I’m 5’7″, 109 pounds. And I eat, like you would not believe.

    What I learned is that for me, anorexia was never about body image. It was never about weight. Yes, it gave me some sort of sick satisfaction to look in the mirror and see my bones protruding from my frail and malnurished body, but that wasn’t the REASON I did it. I starved myself because it felt good to have control over one thing in my life. It was my way of saying screw you world. You can hurt me all you want, but I can hurt me worse. (Isn’t that crazy? Yes, I know the inner workings of a broken-most brain.)

    But no matter how skinny I got, no matter how many times I’d pass out after standing up or make excuses to my friends and family, the worse things seemed to spiral out of control, the stronger my eating disorder and my depression held their grip on my reality.

    Because it’s not about self-love or self-hate. It’s not about being sick or being a basket case or any of those neat & tidy stereotypes people create to feel more comfortable with something they can’t understand. It’s about our need to learn how to understand why we do these things, and our own deep journeys through forgiveness for our past & the people that hurt us. It may not be one specific thing that pushed you to an eating disorder (and the tendency to revel in the option of death) but I know that for me at least, once I discovered that it all came down to a deep-seeded desire to simply feel IN CONTROL of my life somehow, I was able to finally and totally be released from the chains of those disorders. Truly.

    I have a heart full of love, beating in your direction.

    1. Thank you much for caring – it really means a lot.

      Not a lot of people realise that eating disorders are nothing to do with being thin. It doesn’t help that even after almost a decade in recovery I’m still thin, so people worry about me more than they need to. This is just where my weight leveled off and although I hate how little I am most of the time it isn’t all bad (childrens clothes are so cheap!)

      Anyway – what you said made a lot of sense to me. I don’t believe you ever ‘recover’ from an eating disorder. You just get better at living with it.

      Much love xx

  9. I am so glad the crisis team local to you are worth something. Here they are not – seriously. You just don’t approach them unless you want someone to push you over the edge!

    I’m sorry you were so desperate and so alone as to have thoughts like that. I remember the meticulous planning so well. I remember how clear things got when you make that decision: today will be my last day. But I also remember how something always pulled me back. Or pulled me to the hospital either one.

    You are strong WeeGee – but if you ever need a bit more encouragement to keep on going then you know where to find me.

    Much love to u xx

  10. I’m so glad you’re okay!
    I hope you don’t mind, but last time I felt the way you described, I found reading this helped me to come down a bit, and I think stopped me going through with it. It covers a lot of things you’ve said actually.
    http://www.cracked.com/article_15658_the-ten-minute-suicide-guide.html – (It isn’t really a suicide guide)
    You might have seen it before, or not find it at all useful, but I thought I’d share it with you just in case because I kept thinking of it while I was reading your post.

    1. I hadn’t seen this before and it actually made me laugh at myself which is no bad thing!

      I’m glad I’m okay too – thanks for thinking of me xx

  11. Oh, WeeGee…right now I am staring at my own bottle of painkillers….trying to make it one more day…but it’s so hard. I’m glad your cat needs you. It’s so nice to be needed.
    Rainey

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