Reflecting On A (Not So Happy) Anniversary

(Before we start please note the TRIGGER WARNING for self-harm and suicidal thoughts/actions)

Tomorrow marks the first anniversary of my overdose. At the time I detailed it in this blog. But in short after my mental health had a rapid decline since the start of 2019 I decided that enough was enough. I realised that the game was up when I found myself struggling to enjoy Airbourne, normally the 4 days I live for each year, and I went to bed the Sunday night having written a long letter to my family and friends telling them how much I loved them and insisting that they not blame themselves. 

Although I told myself as I wrote it that it was a 'just in case' letter, a deeper part of me had shifted for the worse. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back was being let go from my job, not much of a shock since I was barely managing to make it in more than one or two days a week. 

So that was how the overdose happened, part of it was wanting to end it all, part of it was wanting to black out and forget everything, part of it was trying to express the pain that I couldn't put into words that even cutting myself wasn't releasing, part of it was wanting to push it all off myself and let the adults take over and part of it was a final fuck off to the world that had made life so difficult. 

The days following are a blur, I hadn't swallowed enough pills or drunk enough vodka to need the hospital. I remember being chronically unsettled, sleeping badly, a feeling of absolute guilt at having hurt my parents and friends and hardest of all was the feeling of being unsafe. Unsafe from myself, whenever I'd felt unsafe before it was as a result of other people's actions and I could retreat inside myself. When it's you making yourself feel unsafe there's nowhere to retreat, being scared of yourself and what your brain might make you do. 

Do I feel like I've made any progress since that August day? Absolutely not. I don't work, I hardly go out (at least I had plenty of practice for lockdown!), I struggle in social situations and find myself utterly drained from them. I have panic attacks from just getting the bus into town (not ideal when you're walking up the hill trying to listen to your best friend tell you about her day), I struggle with panic attacks that wake me up just after I've drifted off. I cut myself, put it this way, shorts have not been an option for most of the summer although considering the size of my thighs that's probably a blessing to the world at large! 

My world has shrunk to staying in and annoying the rabbit, being bounced on by the dog, cross-stitching, watching YouTube & Netflix, eating and berating myself for the weight I've piled back on whilst feeling physically sick looking at myself, napping, only being able to go places if someone goes with me and when I'm able to leave the house the occasional dog walk. Not exactly healing and healthy. 

I know that the recovery has to come in a large part from me, counselling, my OT (when I'm allocated one) and useless psychiatrists can only do so much. But the drive I used to have to defy the limits of my brain and condition just isn't there any more. Being a hermit is my lot in life. There's still a large part of my brain that berates me for not finishing the job properly, that I'm too weak to give it another, proper try. It argues that I have no chance at a successful future (I'm not going to disagree with it there!) so why postpone the inevitable. 

I try really hard to find positivity and enjoy things, some times it's possible - the week that Mum and I had in Vienna last November (PANDAS! 🐼 🐼), seeing my friends when I feel able, watching crap on YouTube with Helen (it's an art form) or watching (shouting at) the F1 with Chris and Vana. But so often I just feel uninspired and joyless, the things I do like sewing, reading just can't always cut it (no pun intended). Then I'm left feeling frustrated, bored and at the mercy of my thoughts. 

I really hope that maybe by next year's anniversary I'll still be here to mark it. That maybe a summer of delayed gigs and airshows might have lifted things a little. That the blubber I've re-attached to me might have gone (although let's be realistic), that I might have gotten some way to reclaiming the old Jen who was able to tell her brain to fuck off back in its box and go enjoy herself. Is that too much to hope for? 

Love Jen

XxxX

EMDR Diaries - Chapter 1

For those of you who have the, er, pleasure (?) to follow me on social media (Twitter jenraefrances and Instagram jenraefrances very original I know!) you'll have see than I've started a treatment called EMDR (Click here  for more info about EMDR, if that's a bit wordy then a YouTube link is coming up!). 

The aim of EMDR is to help the brain re-process traumatic memories which will, in theory, 
 help stop my extreme reactions to certain stimuli and triggers. My Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD) has been worsening since the summer which lead to me attemping suicide back in August (See my blog Cold Hard Facts - ***Trigger warning***). Whilst my bad memories will always be there, this treatment won't magically erase them but it will allow my brain to process the bullying, assault, loss etc correctly and hopefully lessen their impact.

I found a really useful YouTube video that explains it in a less Sci-Fi way. 

This video shows how an EDMR session works -

Before I started the treatment I was warned by my counsellor that the treatment can be tough as I'll be connecting with a lot of memories and emotions that my brain has repressed. I've been warned that I'll feel very unsettled for a number of days after each session There was also the likelihood that I'll have physical symptoms like tingling and twitches as my brain works to re-wire itself. To try and counter-act this my counsellor and I have been working on 'safe places' in my mind that I can access after the sessions to calm me such as airshows and happy memories. I have a long list of bad things to tackle, the usual suspects - bullying, loss etc so this will be a long slog. 

To start me off as gently as possible my counsellor, Helaine, has decided to start with the 'Memory Stick incident' from back in 2014. When you read any of my blogs from the summer of 2014, prior to being signed off in the Autumn, you'll be able to see the state I was left in (my blog Stuck from the time gives an idea, just bear in mind that at the time I was still working on the theory that I had Bi Polar rather than BPD). Now that I'm long gone from that job I can explain more about what went on and what the EMDR will be tackling. 

To cut a long story short whilst working for a local NHS Team I posted a memory stick to a nursing home containing patient information and it was lost in the post. This kicked off a massive incident as of course patient privacy was compromised (something that I never argued against and went out of my way to own up to), during the course of this it was decided to review my recent work and it was found that I had sent an information pack to an incorrect address (I still maintain that I was given the wrong details but that's neither here nor there). After that all of my work was scrutinised and management were constantly digging for mistakes I'd made. When I tried to stand up for myself I was told that I was "playing the mental health card" to avoid getting into trouble. The whole situation lead to my health spiralling out of control, loads of self-harming and my being signed off of work and eventually leaving. 

As we started the session Helaine asked me to bring this time to mind. I then had to watch the light bar that you saw in the video above for a few moments at a time (initially I made the mistake of trying to concentrate too hard on it and not follow the light bar but it turns out that once you've brought the memory to the front of your mind it stays there even when you're concentrating on the bar). The effect was immediate, I started having random tinglings and small pressures across my chest and throat (these are the spots where I normally 'feel stress', some people get knotted stomachs or breathlessness when they're stressed whereas mine sticks 'higher') and twinges in my shoulders.  

After the initial effects of the tinglings and pressures I actually stopped feeling anything for a little while until I suddenly got really tearful when I was struck by how much I'd loved my previous job working in the records library from 2010-2011 (you can read my memories of the time here). One of the things with the EMDR is that sudden insights will appear either during the session or in the days following about the memory you've been working on. Whilst I won't share the 'insights' I gained about my job I lost the memory stick with as they aren't pretty, I did realise that I was an easy target as I'm crap at standing up for myself or pointing out that I was the sole admin dealing with over 2000 cases, I did gain some interesting insights about my 'happy time' in the library; I realised that work was actually my 'safe space' and helped me cope with crap life threw at me at the time (my Grandad passing away, the breakdown of my 6 year relationship among other things) and still carry on smiling. I realised that I was 'mourning' that time so to speak, not just the job itself or that it was a good time in my life for travelling and having fun. But mourning the loss of that safety, positivity and most importantly the friends I left behind when I moved on, colleagues who made me feel welcome from day one and included me and, most importantly, were only ever nice to me. The ironic thing is that the only reason I left was because my hours had been cut to 3 days a week ....

The session ended with 'grounding' me again, accessing my 'happy/safe' space and putting me back into a calm mindset.

In the days following an EMDR session you can be left quite unsettled both mentally and physically (in some cases apparently you can be left twitchy or tingly for a couple of days). Physically I was fine, aside from some shoulder tension, but I've had a lot of work-related bad dreams or general anxiety dreams. The dreams have mostly been around a different job I had prior to the library when I was bullied (another reason I loved the library so much, no-one screamed across the room or down the phone at me!), having to start working there again and seeing the managers who made my life hell. I've also been quite low and tearful feeling as well as a slight stressed feeling bubbling away in the background. 

My next session will be a week Tuesday and we'll continue to work on this memory until my brain has processed it properly and it no longer brings up the emotional response anymore. After that we'll move onto other subjects which I admit to being quite nervous about, if I cried whilst working through this 'not too bad' memory lord knows how I'll be when focusing on losing Stelly or school. I want to try and keep up a blog of my EMDR experiences on the off chance that someone who's curious about the treatment or, like me, is trying it out for the first time will stumble across it in the depths of the interwebs and might find it helpful.

If the EMDR helps even just a bit then it'll be worth it, if I can have just a bit of breathing space then I can start piecing things back together a bit. It's not a cure and it won't remove my BPD, OCD and self-harming tendencies but what it can do is help unblock my brain to give me a better chance at reigning them in a bit.

Love Jen
XxxX

Cold, Hard Facts pt 2

*TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE AND SELF-HARM*

We're only just into 2020 and already it's gone tits up (and if we're going by my pair it's a very big tits up, not that I like to boast). My mental wellbeing, well the little that I had, has all but gone.

Today I told my counsellor that I was about 8.5/10 on the score of 0 having no plans and 10 being in the process of making an attempt on my life. Plans and notes had been updated. I'm at the stage where my disgust for myself, the way my brain works, the weight I've put back on, my inability to function like a normal human being and the enjoyment from any activities I used to enjoy being non-existent. The only relief I get at the moment from the noise in my head is the moments when I cut myself and the short spike of pain bursts through. Normally sleep is my refuge but when I do manage to get off to sleep it's just nightmares and people in dreams telling me to hurry up and top myself. 

My counsellor quite rightly spoke to Mum and let her know everything. I feel horrible for all the pain my mental health is causing the people I love. Having been on the other side when my friend Nat was suicidal I know exactly how it is. I have my 'urgent' psychiatrist appointment on Thursday (I took my overdose on 20th Aug last year, make of that what you will). I'm hoping that unlike the last psychiatrist I saw I'll get more out of the appointment than "here's your diagnosis, here are your Meds now off you skip to take them like a good little mental" *pat on the head*.

Quite honestly I can't see how I can get out of this cycle. How much change can an appointment make? I'm bound to be brushed off again, as I always am. 

Love Jen

XxxX