So then, after last weeks one day of positivity I got, what I thought was just a sickness bug and have been throwing up for 5 days, 5 fucking day, what the hells that all about?!! well, i'll tell yer what its about, its called Labarynthitis and its an inner ear infection which basically makes you feel sick and dizzy all the time, as if you had a hangover, its bloody shit i can tell you now. I'd rather have the shits, at least you know where you are with the shits.
Anyhow with all of this going on it really set me back and i'd become really wound up and frustrated, withdrawn and stuff, it knocked me for six to be honest and at times i couldn't see a way out, a way of finding any kind of positivity at all, i must have been a 'mare for everyone around me, so for that i'll appologise. soz like.
This 'down' episode felt like a crash and as id been quite positive the previous few days i, and the fella from the crisis team, reckoned i was almost manic for a few days, it's strange though as theres still this underlying depression and bleak outlook on everything at the minute, like ive been telling everyone that im alrighat and getting better but i don't actually believe it myself as ive seen little to no improvement over the last few day, labarynthitis or not. Putting a brave face on it can be hard sometimes as im sure people im talking to can see that im a wreck, i look knackered off not sleeping much and im so spaced and lack concentration that its unreal, sometimes i like the manic me though cos i get loads done, plan stuff better and things, but then again its concentration, ive got none at all really, even writing these blogs is a canny big struggle and takes me coming back to them 2 or 3 times. The depression has led to cutting again this week, though ive managed to keep it on my legs rather than the arms which is a positive step i think, the thing with it is, i like it and to stop something you like is really hard, for example drinking and taking drugs (not had any, this weeks going to be big though, hoping to stay strong on that front), cutting, etc.
It also led to some really fucking bad hallucinations, dead people lying next to me in bed and knocking about in the bedroom, flesh rotting from thier faces, like melting away and hanging off, they said nowt, they were just 'there', that freaked me out a canny bit i don't mind admitting, the night it happened i had only been watching 'planet earth' on DVD so it wasn't as if id been watching any mad films or anything. For the first time too ive seen people i recognise who i think have been trying to communicate with me, both of my grandads who have 'told' (more me reading their thoughts i think, i cant work it out really) that im going to be ok and will get better eventually, strange but strangely comforting too.
Im a big fan of Christmas so im actually looking forward to this week, once ive got my 6 appointments out the way, Crisis team (not seeing them again unless its an emergency), phsycologist, Doctor (twice), brain scan (they wont find owt there!!) and something else that i can't remember, i'll have to ask Alex or me Mam. Christmas is being planned like a miliary operation, Stop at ours Xmas eve, up early, then to Lucys, me Mam and Dads, Alex's dad, back to my mam and dad for dinner, Alex's Mams then aunty Wendys and maybe our Christophers later, just cos he doesn't like people round on Christmas day night. So all in all that should keep me occupied, im hoping to chip in and help make the dinner if i get any time to as well.
I want to sign this off by offering my best wishes to Kingy who is getting an operation today on his eye socket from a challenge made playing for the Tav, he won the challenge (as always) and is going to be a huge miss to my team as he's a t'rffic player the boy (as uncle 'arry would say).
Monday, 19 December 2011
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
What a difference a day makes...
I have today been to just one appointment! Imagine that. It was with my regular head doc, Dr Ryman, strangely I thought i was getting no better really, if anything i thought i was staying the same, but after seeing my GP yesterday and getting a prescription on temazepam i took one of them with my last quitiepine and my rispiridol last night after taking some diazepam during the day, on no food, which had me spaced out to fuck, haha. I went to bed at 9pm and didnt get up til 9am. I feel much better for that, the voices in my head have lowered slightly and ive felt a bit better in myself today for the first time in about 4 months, i can actually see the positives in things a bit. Ive decided after a couple of texts from Rye mac and Rossi and a phone call from Jonesy that its time to try my utmost to stop the cutting, especially on my arms as the scars are going to be there in some cases forever and do i want that? no, i dont think so.
Last week i had had thoughts about and planned how i would end it all, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i shouldnt and that that was selfish, no matter how bad i felt and how much the voices were egging me on, or how weird the visions had been. Today I realised that that was stupid and that i have quite a bit to live for, family, the best bunch of friends, mind you get to know who your mates really are at times like this, for fucks sake i want to see Sunderland in Europe and I want to get the Tav into the top league so thats gonna keep me going for a bit yet, actually i might be the same age as yoda before sunderland get into europe ;)
Anyway the doc said i only have to see GP every 2 weeks, 1 Pyschiatrist, 1 Psychologist alternate 2 weeks and the crisis team a couple more times, and that theres plenty of scope to increase the dose of new tablets next time and hopefully everything will start to get a bit easier, this sound like a lot but its loads less than at present. Im hoping that along with the sleep the rispiredol is starting to work although i know i cant expect miricales just yet, but im getting more used to the hallucinations and while its stopping me doing some important stuff it does mean that i am coping a bit better, i feel that today a little weight has lifted, a bit like when frankie rattled in the equaliser at the SOL on sunday. And even if i have to live my whole life with the hallucinations and/or voices i think that for the most part i'll be able to manage them, with support from those around me and with a lot of work on my part. one step at a time though....
Last week i had had thoughts about and planned how i would end it all, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that i shouldnt and that that was selfish, no matter how bad i felt and how much the voices were egging me on, or how weird the visions had been. Today I realised that that was stupid and that i have quite a bit to live for, family, the best bunch of friends, mind you get to know who your mates really are at times like this, for fucks sake i want to see Sunderland in Europe and I want to get the Tav into the top league so thats gonna keep me going for a bit yet, actually i might be the same age as yoda before sunderland get into europe ;)
Anyway the doc said i only have to see GP every 2 weeks, 1 Pyschiatrist, 1 Psychologist alternate 2 weeks and the crisis team a couple more times, and that theres plenty of scope to increase the dose of new tablets next time and hopefully everything will start to get a bit easier, this sound like a lot but its loads less than at present. Im hoping that along with the sleep the rispiredol is starting to work although i know i cant expect miricales just yet, but im getting more used to the hallucinations and while its stopping me doing some important stuff it does mean that i am coping a bit better, i feel that today a little weight has lifted, a bit like when frankie rattled in the equaliser at the SOL on sunday. And even if i have to live my whole life with the hallucinations and/or voices i think that for the most part i'll be able to manage them, with support from those around me and with a lot of work on my part. one step at a time though....
Tuesday, 13 December 2011
Last Night (not the Strokes song, which is canny)
LAst night was an unmitigated disaster, slept for the grand total of 30 mins, if that. Tried reading, watching a film, re-counting all the Tavs goals of the season (62 in total, not counting pre season) all to no avail. I did all the washing, wrapped some Christmas presents and picked up the dumbells for the first time in about 3 months. I was literelly wide awake all night, not until 5.30 am did i feel tired at all and im wide awake again now. I basically spent about 90 mins bawling my eyes out at the whole situation at some point in the night. On the plus side i watched 'Dead mans shoes' again, 10/10, great film even if its a tough watch, maybe i should have watched something a bit 'lighter'.
During all this the voices were loud, loudest ever probably and the visions were almost constant of flashes of dark shapes and figures behind glass doors, im learning to live with them a bit even though they are pretty terrifying at times.
Crisi team at 11 today then the GP at 12. Dunno what use they'll be, sometimes it seems they just want to check im alive, could really do with some stress relief at the min but my hand isnt up to punching stuff, might reach for the razor and do a little bit cutting. nowt too serious just enough to dampen the hallucinations, fleetingly.
During all this the voices were loud, loudest ever probably and the visions were almost constant of flashes of dark shapes and figures behind glass doors, im learning to live with them a bit even though they are pretty terrifying at times.
Crisi team at 11 today then the GP at 12. Dunno what use they'll be, sometimes it seems they just want to check im alive, could really do with some stress relief at the min but my hand isnt up to punching stuff, might reach for the razor and do a little bit cutting. nowt too serious just enough to dampen the hallucinations, fleetingly.
Monday, 12 December 2011
Last few days.
At the Sunderland v Blackburn game i could see 3 players, clear as day, warming up on the far touchline, I sought clarification from the mother. there was 1 player, James McClean. Honestly im now getting to the point where im not entirely sure whether what i see as real is real and what i believe to be hallucinations are hallucinations, my mind is just a muddled up mess, im taking enough tablets to take down a bull elephant and despite this im still a bundle of energy and can only sleep for very small periods. Theres a million things going on in my head at once, im getting un-needed hassle from one or two people who, although frustrated, could do well to step back and think about the bigger picture. I forget things i've done, places i've been, conversations ive had.
Friday night a good mate, Jonesy gave me a lift from Sunderland to Carlisle for Alex's Christmas party, it took us fucking ages to find the place, the food was average and i resorted to sneaking vodka, lime and sodas after having 4 pints, i told Alex id had 2. I knew at this point what i was doing was trying to get a release but all it served to do was make me worse overall, when we got back home it was clear that i was acting like a fucking prick and i am more determined than ever to stop the drinking, so if any of you see me out and about, have a word if im stood at a bar please. its with support that i feel i've got this far and i know i shouldnt ask people to look over me but i need it to get better so im reaching out here.
Jonesy and me talked of the old Roker Park days, days of losing to Southend, walloping Villa in the cup and still losing 1-4 after an astounding performance from Mark Bosnich. By fuck, them were the days, I loved Roker, i loved the sight, the floodlights, the smells of pie, smoke, piss and booze. I idolised shite players, and Marco, i didn't care that we were shit, when we had good times we lived and breathed every second. I feel none of that now, i feel empty, alone and isolated. Like im existing but not living. At the match on Sunday i felt this, i did however feel a twinge of the old spark when Frankie smashed in the equaliser. I knew we'd go on to win if we got one goal, as i said to my dad. Its strange watching football at the minute, i see extra runs and things that i wouldn't have dreamed of before now. maybe it helps? maybe it gets me more worked up and frustrated.
Saturday and Sunday were spent in Sunderland with my family as Alex was out and about up to secretive things! I got the train to Newcastle to meet my mam and sister on Saturday, i was so tired, i slept most of the day, I freaked out at the flashing of the lights on the tree and saw a man tapping on the back window late on in the evening, this, the voices were arguing in my head was 'they' coming to get me, so i got my mam to shut the blinds and stuff and tried not to let on why. I also went for a walk to deliver some cards with my dad, he's a top bloke big Ray, supports anything i want to do and supports me and Alex 100% all the time, he's a bit of a hero of mine, along with my mam and siblings and cousins. Anyway while we were out I saw 3 people but didn't want to ask my dad if they were real or not, i felt like they were but then as we rounded a corner to Patty's kip i couldn't see them anymore. I also saw a dog that looked like 'our sam', a collie type loony dog my nan had when i was a nipper. im pretty sure that wasn't real.
Sunday I set 3 alarms so I got up for my sunday league match, we won 4-1 to stay top with some excellent football and great goals i was pleased with the result but felt we conceded a very soft goal that i kept replaying in my head, focusing on the negative has become a huge problem recently. My very good friend, and Brother in law to be, Kingy got a big knock and ended in hospital with a suspected broken cheekbone, i felt responsible as its my team and i have to protect my players. im culpable for everything that goes on during games i feel, he'll be a huge miss as its fair to say, he's fucking good. We've been unlucky with injury this season. Still though we'll battle on.
Pretty much straight from there it was off to the SAFC game where again i felt the isolation and loneliness, i missed my mate, Dixon, as he's always canny to talk to, though the rest of the lads I met beforehand were brilliant, they always rally round when anyones having problems or whatever, us Sunderland folk are like that, one for all and all that bollox. Sunday night i stayed in Sunderland and went to get some xmas shopping monday before my mam brought me back to Hexham where i met yet another Doc who examined and probed me mentally, he asked loads of questions, i got confused, i answered the best i can, got to go to the doc tomorrow, meet the crisis team and meet my regular head doc on wednesday, Alex is off friday and theres no Sunderland game sat so hopefully they will be nice days.
Fucking hell Super mario's just scored after a minute. im in tears for some reason, maybe cos im letting it all out. til next time, stay cool kids.
Friday night a good mate, Jonesy gave me a lift from Sunderland to Carlisle for Alex's Christmas party, it took us fucking ages to find the place, the food was average and i resorted to sneaking vodka, lime and sodas after having 4 pints, i told Alex id had 2. I knew at this point what i was doing was trying to get a release but all it served to do was make me worse overall, when we got back home it was clear that i was acting like a fucking prick and i am more determined than ever to stop the drinking, so if any of you see me out and about, have a word if im stood at a bar please. its with support that i feel i've got this far and i know i shouldnt ask people to look over me but i need it to get better so im reaching out here.
Jonesy and me talked of the old Roker Park days, days of losing to Southend, walloping Villa in the cup and still losing 1-4 after an astounding performance from Mark Bosnich. By fuck, them were the days, I loved Roker, i loved the sight, the floodlights, the smells of pie, smoke, piss and booze. I idolised shite players, and Marco, i didn't care that we were shit, when we had good times we lived and breathed every second. I feel none of that now, i feel empty, alone and isolated. Like im existing but not living. At the match on Sunday i felt this, i did however feel a twinge of the old spark when Frankie smashed in the equaliser. I knew we'd go on to win if we got one goal, as i said to my dad. Its strange watching football at the minute, i see extra runs and things that i wouldn't have dreamed of before now. maybe it helps? maybe it gets me more worked up and frustrated.
Saturday and Sunday were spent in Sunderland with my family as Alex was out and about up to secretive things! I got the train to Newcastle to meet my mam and sister on Saturday, i was so tired, i slept most of the day, I freaked out at the flashing of the lights on the tree and saw a man tapping on the back window late on in the evening, this, the voices were arguing in my head was 'they' coming to get me, so i got my mam to shut the blinds and stuff and tried not to let on why. I also went for a walk to deliver some cards with my dad, he's a top bloke big Ray, supports anything i want to do and supports me and Alex 100% all the time, he's a bit of a hero of mine, along with my mam and siblings and cousins. Anyway while we were out I saw 3 people but didn't want to ask my dad if they were real or not, i felt like they were but then as we rounded a corner to Patty's kip i couldn't see them anymore. I also saw a dog that looked like 'our sam', a collie type loony dog my nan had when i was a nipper. im pretty sure that wasn't real.
Sunday I set 3 alarms so I got up for my sunday league match, we won 4-1 to stay top with some excellent football and great goals i was pleased with the result but felt we conceded a very soft goal that i kept replaying in my head, focusing on the negative has become a huge problem recently. My very good friend, and Brother in law to be, Kingy got a big knock and ended in hospital with a suspected broken cheekbone, i felt responsible as its my team and i have to protect my players. im culpable for everything that goes on during games i feel, he'll be a huge miss as its fair to say, he's fucking good. We've been unlucky with injury this season. Still though we'll battle on.
Pretty much straight from there it was off to the SAFC game where again i felt the isolation and loneliness, i missed my mate, Dixon, as he's always canny to talk to, though the rest of the lads I met beforehand were brilliant, they always rally round when anyones having problems or whatever, us Sunderland folk are like that, one for all and all that bollox. Sunday night i stayed in Sunderland and went to get some xmas shopping monday before my mam brought me back to Hexham where i met yet another Doc who examined and probed me mentally, he asked loads of questions, i got confused, i answered the best i can, got to go to the doc tomorrow, meet the crisis team and meet my regular head doc on wednesday, Alex is off friday and theres no Sunderland game sat so hopefully they will be nice days.
Fucking hell Super mario's just scored after a minute. im in tears for some reason, maybe cos im letting it all out. til next time, stay cool kids.
Thursday, 8 December 2011
Try to fill the void.
Well I got what would normally be some good news on December 6th, instead of being eleated and overjoyed, again I felt nothing but emptiness, I feel so selfish in a way and my voices told me how utterly useless I am and what a waste of time my life is, laughing at me, mocking me and generally being horrible.
Alex's Sister. Lucy was off work today so she wanted to do something so we thought we might brave the metro-centre, while there we met Jonesy and went for a bite to eat, Jonesy's a Pharmacist and so we talked a bit about my tablets and what changes had been made, he tells me that the new ones are supposedly better and more potent that the Quitiepine and hopefully after a little while will start to work and get rid of the hallucinations. I have to say that without Alex there I really had to concentrate on keeping it together, trying not to show that I could read peoples thoughtas and not the stare at things that I didnt know were actually there or not. For a quick bit of respite I went to toilet, hit the wall, I dont think my knuckle is ever going to get better at this rate.
During the day I took Diazepam twice n that helped a bit, still hallucinating though, thoughts and eyes. Saw Anna in morning from the early intervention in psychosis team and we seem to just cover the same ground with each and every appointment, i was in there for an hour and in my mind i can't pin point anything that will have started this off. I explained to her that the first few years at school i was quite shy but then as I grew older i grew more confident and was a lot more outgoing, throughout school/ college/ uni ive always just done enough to get by, not really applied myself much as i didnt really want to stand out too much though i have an overwhelming drive to always have to be in control in any situation I am in.
After the Metro (where i managed to trick Alex into giving me more money than she should have and I got her some great (hopefully) Christmas presents) I went through to Sunderland, I got to mams at 3.30, slept!! For an hour, again though I found that I couldn't really get motivated for football training, even thouugh I knew once I was there i would find that as I had to concentrate on that it would hopefully ease my symptoms a bit, which it has done at times (not all the time, sometimes its too much and I just end up going bezerk at people and arguing with them.).
To get over the fact that i didnt want to go to football i tried to rake myself round by having a shower to liven myself up a bit, it was at this point that i cut legs and arm really bad again, the worst and deepest I had cut in a long while, dunno whether or not to hoy some pics up on here, probabaly not, for now at least. I cut both arms twice and both thighs once each, when i got into the shower the water washed the blood away, the bottom of the shower cubicle was all red, again I felt nothing, kept thinking how happy I should be and still no excitement. I just feel as though im in some sort of Zombie state, detached from the world, detatched from my own body, eventually i got ready and got a lift off Fraser (Pavel Nedved/ Sheldon Cooper, absolutely smashing lad, couple of weeks ago he stopped me cutting my hand in our mates car with scissors).
I think i need to get more routines and organised. Football was ok, I'm not as good as I could/ should be, lots of running and it kept my mind a little busy even if fleetingly. When I got home it began raining when everyone went to bed, I snuck outside n just stood n let it wash over me. Didn't feel the cold just a repetitive chant like voice saying what are you doing you ficking idiot. Came back in when I saw 2 people in garden, surely not real though, its pretty difficult to get into the garden, and with that weather why would they be there anyway.
Other strange occurances that have been happening, not sure if i've mentioned them yet are that sometimes when i try to type or put numbers into the telephone the numbers move around on phone, for example if i try to hit the 'y' key it will move to where the 'd' key should be and similarly this happenens with the phone, this is massively frustrating, especially when im trying to contact people that are important, such as the crisis team or whoever. Also when I go into the (extremely tidy and well ordered, OCD you see) Cupboard the food moves around in the cupboard, this has left me hungry on more than one occasion, its as if the food doesn't want me to get it, and again the voices laugh at me for these things. Along with the OCD i have got a mania for cleanliness, i think i'll be punished if everything isn't clean and tidy, which includes myself, this has led me on more than one occassion to shave all of my body hair off from the neck down, which i realise is fucking weird but i dont care, if it helps me get through this hell then people can think what they like, i can read their thoughts for the most part anyway so fuck 'em.
Alex's Sister. Lucy was off work today so she wanted to do something so we thought we might brave the metro-centre, while there we met Jonesy and went for a bite to eat, Jonesy's a Pharmacist and so we talked a bit about my tablets and what changes had been made, he tells me that the new ones are supposedly better and more potent that the Quitiepine and hopefully after a little while will start to work and get rid of the hallucinations. I have to say that without Alex there I really had to concentrate on keeping it together, trying not to show that I could read peoples thoughtas and not the stare at things that I didnt know were actually there or not. For a quick bit of respite I went to toilet, hit the wall, I dont think my knuckle is ever going to get better at this rate.
During the day I took Diazepam twice n that helped a bit, still hallucinating though, thoughts and eyes. Saw Anna in morning from the early intervention in psychosis team and we seem to just cover the same ground with each and every appointment, i was in there for an hour and in my mind i can't pin point anything that will have started this off. I explained to her that the first few years at school i was quite shy but then as I grew older i grew more confident and was a lot more outgoing, throughout school/ college/ uni ive always just done enough to get by, not really applied myself much as i didnt really want to stand out too much though i have an overwhelming drive to always have to be in control in any situation I am in.
After the Metro (where i managed to trick Alex into giving me more money than she should have and I got her some great (hopefully) Christmas presents) I went through to Sunderland, I got to mams at 3.30, slept!! For an hour, again though I found that I couldn't really get motivated for football training, even thouugh I knew once I was there i would find that as I had to concentrate on that it would hopefully ease my symptoms a bit, which it has done at times (not all the time, sometimes its too much and I just end up going bezerk at people and arguing with them.).
To get over the fact that i didnt want to go to football i tried to rake myself round by having a shower to liven myself up a bit, it was at this point that i cut legs and arm really bad again, the worst and deepest I had cut in a long while, dunno whether or not to hoy some pics up on here, probabaly not, for now at least. I cut both arms twice and both thighs once each, when i got into the shower the water washed the blood away, the bottom of the shower cubicle was all red, again I felt nothing, kept thinking how happy I should be and still no excitement. I just feel as though im in some sort of Zombie state, detached from the world, detatched from my own body, eventually i got ready and got a lift off Fraser (Pavel Nedved/ Sheldon Cooper, absolutely smashing lad, couple of weeks ago he stopped me cutting my hand in our mates car with scissors).
I think i need to get more routines and organised. Football was ok, I'm not as good as I could/ should be, lots of running and it kept my mind a little busy even if fleetingly. When I got home it began raining when everyone went to bed, I snuck outside n just stood n let it wash over me. Didn't feel the cold just a repetitive chant like voice saying what are you doing you ficking idiot. Came back in when I saw 2 people in garden, surely not real though, its pretty difficult to get into the garden, and with that weather why would they be there anyway.
Other strange occurances that have been happening, not sure if i've mentioned them yet are that sometimes when i try to type or put numbers into the telephone the numbers move around on phone, for example if i try to hit the 'y' key it will move to where the 'd' key should be and similarly this happenens with the phone, this is massively frustrating, especially when im trying to contact people that are important, such as the crisis team or whoever. Also when I go into the (extremely tidy and well ordered, OCD you see) Cupboard the food moves around in the cupboard, this has left me hungry on more than one occasion, its as if the food doesn't want me to get it, and again the voices laugh at me for these things. Along with the OCD i have got a mania for cleanliness, i think i'll be punished if everything isn't clean and tidy, which includes myself, this has led me on more than one occassion to shave all of my body hair off from the neck down, which i realise is fucking weird but i dont care, if it helps me get through this hell then people can think what they like, i can read their thoughts for the most part anyway so fuck 'em.
Monday, 5 December 2011
Arrggghhhh
Sitting in my sitting room with Alex and our cats, absolutely wide awake and feeling wired to fuck despite knocking in a respiredol quitiepine, diazapam and 2 lorazepam, keep seeing figures walking accross the room, im freezing cold and keep getting wierd shivers throughout my body, as if something is walking through me or something. this is horrendous, today wasn't too bad either, i actually got some stuff done and got out, bar the usual horrific trip to the supermarket again that had me freaked out. Everyone watching, judging againg, eyes jet black like a great white and seeing people behind me every time i glance in a mirror. I hope these risperidol work, and quick, its getting too much now, unrelenting hell that needs to stop. somehow.
Sunday, 4 December 2011
Weekend 3,4 dec
Since my last post I have mostly been in Sunderland, Friday night I didnt have any Diazepam or Lorazepam so I called the Doctors and after much discussion she (not my usual doc) agreed to write me a prescription for both to get me through the weekend, Alex was coming through to Sunderland so she went to pick up the prescription for me, unfortunetly by the time she got there the surgery was closed, and it remains so until monday morning. this was a bit of a blow and made me get quite worked up and anxious as well as amplifying the hallucinations a bit and the voices taking the piss. I was mentally exahuasted at this point and I just sat alone in the Living room and broke down for a bit, sliced a few nasty cuts into my arm until my mam discovered me and comforted me. I then thought i could try to ring the crisis team to see if they could contact somewhere in Sunderland so I could pick up some tablets. After a lengthy discussion with them they decided i would need to go and see a doctor, the only one I could go to would be the walk in centre and I couldnt face it becasue of the waiting and the people watching and looking and judging and their thoughts weirding me out, so I decided id just try to ride it out.
Friday evening, as i have already touched on I went to the pub with my bro and had 3 pints of lime and soda, and left after about an hour as it was too full and i was freaking out seeing flashes of black and different people in my peripheral vision which i was told weren't there. I was glad i'd gone and stuck it out for an hour but its annoying the fuck out of me that its stopping me doing normal boring things, going shopping, going to the pub, driving, fuck sake its driving me even madder.
Saturday my mate Patty, who's a top lad, kept me occupied, firstly we went into Sunderland and watched the mags lose to chelsea, we met 2 other mates in Varsity, glad we went there as it was quiet and that kept me at a decent level of calmness. Post scum defeat we went to meet another mate, Malla, who I really like as a lad, funny, sound and chilled to fuck, and we went up to watch our mate, Mick play for Seaham Red Star, it was bastard freezing in Seaham but the match was pretty action packed, I saw some 'extra' people on the opposite side of the pitch that seemed to have an 'aura' about them, I asked the lads if they could see them and they confirmed my fears that they couldn't, the voices then started to take the piss telling me i was losing my marbles and that i was a fucking idiot and i should just fuck off. I tried my best to not let it show that it was getting to me.
At half time of the match we got some Bovril and a Snickers in, Malla reccomended a dash of pepper to liven it up, to be fair to him it was a shout like, proper worked. Lush.
Red Star looked a bit all over and lack lustre if im honest and the keeper looked pretty poor, he compounded a bad game with the last kick, the score at 3-3, he went to clear and it hit the back of the oppo forward and trickled in. Defeat. This sparked a brawl, I wanted part of it and went to join the melee urged on by the voices, invicible eh? until i realised it was a canny fucking stupid thing to do and walked back to the car to a chorus of derision from them people around me, inside me? who knows. Oh and i had to listen to Malla whinge about his achillies, the daft twat didnt have any socks on, what did he expect?
After Red Star it was back to town where we popped into Patty's work, also the work place of my best mate Rossi, had a bit chat with him and i felt a bit more relaxed though i was wishing, not for the first time that day, that id had some diazepam. What felt like hours later me and Patty went down Greens to take in Villa v Man u, again we found a quiet spot and i wasn't 'too' worked up, Kingy joined us at half time and as it got a bit later and busier again the aggitation and frustration built up and i was happy to leave at full time. Kingy dropped me at my mam and dads and went to pick up Alex and her Sister, Lucy, from the train station (they'd been to Edinbourgh) he was due to pick me up after but i happily fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up in time for Match of the Day and was awake until about 4 am. I was back up at 8 to get sorted for football.
Sunday morning i got all the footy gear ready and i said to my mam that i didnt think i could face having to go to the game, but as im the manager and with my overwhelming want, no need, to be the absolute number 1, with a lot of encouragement off I went with Kingy. The match went well and we won 7-2, The voices at times have been unbearable and the peripheral visions and different people who i think are looking and taling about me got me riled right up, again i fought it and tried to join in with the crack on the sideline, my dad comes to watch the team too which helps calm me, and the lads are great. With the win we are now 5 points clear at the top of the league, this should make me feel amzing but I have this overall feeling that we aren't good enough at times and we have achieved nothing so far.
In the Tav after the game one of the lads, Collinsy, noticed the cuts on my arms so I explained to those who were there what the crack with it was, they seemed taken aback by it but no one really said a lot, the voices mocked me and the pub looked busier than it was due to a table where 2 'aura' men in victorian clothing were sitting. The whole time they were mocking me and telling me i had to hurt myself, and badly, if i was to prove how invincibile i was. As ever I tried to hold it together and had to go to the toilet a couple of times to vent my frustration on the wall.
Alex picked me up and we came back home to Hexham, we popped into Tescos and it was hell on earth with all of the judging thoughts and people looking and freaking me out, again the strip lighting and coldness of the building doesnt help at all, i held on to Alex as tight as i could until we got out of there and went home, where i usually feel safest and watched Sunderland snatch a defeat from the jaws of victory with a typically frustrating performance, at present i am desperate from some sleep, but im not tired and some respite from the voices and the frustration but as I type its just getting too much, im going to go for a walk, then a bath then read something or watch a dvd and hope to get some sleep as the crisis team are coming tomorrow with my new drugs, and i can pick up my prescription for friday, this coming week i have 4 appointments with people, hopefully i'll get a bit further on and find out what it is thats making me like this. This isn't me at all I just want it to go away.
Friday evening, as i have already touched on I went to the pub with my bro and had 3 pints of lime and soda, and left after about an hour as it was too full and i was freaking out seeing flashes of black and different people in my peripheral vision which i was told weren't there. I was glad i'd gone and stuck it out for an hour but its annoying the fuck out of me that its stopping me doing normal boring things, going shopping, going to the pub, driving, fuck sake its driving me even madder.
Saturday my mate Patty, who's a top lad, kept me occupied, firstly we went into Sunderland and watched the mags lose to chelsea, we met 2 other mates in Varsity, glad we went there as it was quiet and that kept me at a decent level of calmness. Post scum defeat we went to meet another mate, Malla, who I really like as a lad, funny, sound and chilled to fuck, and we went up to watch our mate, Mick play for Seaham Red Star, it was bastard freezing in Seaham but the match was pretty action packed, I saw some 'extra' people on the opposite side of the pitch that seemed to have an 'aura' about them, I asked the lads if they could see them and they confirmed my fears that they couldn't, the voices then started to take the piss telling me i was losing my marbles and that i was a fucking idiot and i should just fuck off. I tried my best to not let it show that it was getting to me.
At half time of the match we got some Bovril and a Snickers in, Malla reccomended a dash of pepper to liven it up, to be fair to him it was a shout like, proper worked. Lush.
Red Star looked a bit all over and lack lustre if im honest and the keeper looked pretty poor, he compounded a bad game with the last kick, the score at 3-3, he went to clear and it hit the back of the oppo forward and trickled in. Defeat. This sparked a brawl, I wanted part of it and went to join the melee urged on by the voices, invicible eh? until i realised it was a canny fucking stupid thing to do and walked back to the car to a chorus of derision from them people around me, inside me? who knows. Oh and i had to listen to Malla whinge about his achillies, the daft twat didnt have any socks on, what did he expect?
After Red Star it was back to town where we popped into Patty's work, also the work place of my best mate Rossi, had a bit chat with him and i felt a bit more relaxed though i was wishing, not for the first time that day, that id had some diazepam. What felt like hours later me and Patty went down Greens to take in Villa v Man u, again we found a quiet spot and i wasn't 'too' worked up, Kingy joined us at half time and as it got a bit later and busier again the aggitation and frustration built up and i was happy to leave at full time. Kingy dropped me at my mam and dads and went to pick up Alex and her Sister, Lucy, from the train station (they'd been to Edinbourgh) he was due to pick me up after but i happily fell asleep on the sofa. I woke up in time for Match of the Day and was awake until about 4 am. I was back up at 8 to get sorted for football.
Sunday morning i got all the footy gear ready and i said to my mam that i didnt think i could face having to go to the game, but as im the manager and with my overwhelming want, no need, to be the absolute number 1, with a lot of encouragement off I went with Kingy. The match went well and we won 7-2, The voices at times have been unbearable and the peripheral visions and different people who i think are looking and taling about me got me riled right up, again i fought it and tried to join in with the crack on the sideline, my dad comes to watch the team too which helps calm me, and the lads are great. With the win we are now 5 points clear at the top of the league, this should make me feel amzing but I have this overall feeling that we aren't good enough at times and we have achieved nothing so far.
In the Tav after the game one of the lads, Collinsy, noticed the cuts on my arms so I explained to those who were there what the crack with it was, they seemed taken aback by it but no one really said a lot, the voices mocked me and the pub looked busier than it was due to a table where 2 'aura' men in victorian clothing were sitting. The whole time they were mocking me and telling me i had to hurt myself, and badly, if i was to prove how invincibile i was. As ever I tried to hold it together and had to go to the toilet a couple of times to vent my frustration on the wall.
Alex picked me up and we came back home to Hexham, we popped into Tescos and it was hell on earth with all of the judging thoughts and people looking and freaking me out, again the strip lighting and coldness of the building doesnt help at all, i held on to Alex as tight as i could until we got out of there and went home, where i usually feel safest and watched Sunderland snatch a defeat from the jaws of victory with a typically frustrating performance, at present i am desperate from some sleep, but im not tired and some respite from the voices and the frustration but as I type its just getting too much, im going to go for a walk, then a bath then read something or watch a dvd and hope to get some sleep as the crisis team are coming tomorrow with my new drugs, and i can pick up my prescription for friday, this coming week i have 4 appointments with people, hopefully i'll get a bit further on and find out what it is thats making me like this. This isn't me at all I just want it to go away.
Friday, 2 December 2011
Into December
Schitzo-affective disorder?
After researching visual hallucinations, audio hallucinations deep depression, crazy mania and every other fucking mental illness under the sun im plumping for Schitzo-affective disorder, this is seemingly half way between schitzophrenia and bi-polar disorder, this week I have been assesed by an Early Intervention Psychosis team, the Crisis team have been in contact every day. Ive been to my GP and seen both a junior psychiatrist, who gave me some belting little tablets called Lorazepam, which got me 2 consecutive nights kip and then stopped working and Dr Ryman. None of these professionals have yet given me a proper diagnosis, this is proper starting to fuck me right off to be honest, as I say, im impatient, but I feel if I know what im facing i'll be able to battle the bastard better. Is Dr Ryman a psychologist or psychiatrist? whats the difference? anyway, shes weaning me off the quitiepine and onto something stronger called Risperidone, so hopefully that will help get rid of these evil fucking cunts who are destroying my very being.
The hallucinations this week have been mental. Really really mental, blokes in stovepipe hats, everyone I look at has just plain black eyes, people watching and assesing my every move, I now feel as though the voices are not inside my head but are the thoughts of other people (hallucinations and real) around me, this has made me paronoid in the extreme, I went to Sainsburys in Silky today with the mother and as I was walking through the middle of the aisles everyone was staring at me and were moving in slow motion, like a bad acid trip, the strip lighting in these places doesnt help those of a fucked up disposition I must say.
I have however this evening found out that Martin O'Neil, a fucking grade A manager, has taken over at my beloved Sunderland and I felt. Nothing, FUCKING NOTHING. Usually id be buzzing like a fridge at this news, I feel like im dead inside at times. I wouldnt wish this on my worst enemy. I went to the stables with my Bro and his lass, and Patty and Mel and I managed to stay an hour and didnt drink. Small steps eh? At present big Ray is sitting down here with me as I think (trying to tap into his thoughts, am I a jedi?) he thinks im going to do something stupid, and I honestly cant say I wont. Day at a time? Fucking minute at a time....
Deteriation
On my next visit to Dr Ryman she asked me again similar questions and asked me how id been getting on, she also talked to Alex, while I was there, this was a strange strange experience as I felt I had drifted out of my body and was watching the meeting happen from above they were talking frankly about some of the mad escapades id got up to and my radgie as fuck mood swings. It was like being on ket, proper crawling into my own head and watching a tv show about me. Really odd. At this time the voices in my head had got worse and worse, they are now actively telling me to do stuff, they say they want to protect me, that im invincible but they seem to want me to kill myself. I have now started getting visual hallucinations too, these are usually out the corner of my eye or figures on the street, people looking at me from behind when I look in mirrors reflective surfaces the fucking lot. Its a good job im not easily scared by stuff. Due to this the anti-depressants and anti-psycotics have been increased in dose. They still arent touching the hallucinations, the doc tells me that because she only has a 'working diagnosis' that its so hard to get the drugs right, she also gave me some Temazepam and Diazapam.
Im impatient and because of the hallucinations id been under supervision by family every day but I tricked them into letting me stay at home alone one day, all I wanted to do was watch telly and play footy manager. I coudn't hack it. I covered every reflective surface in the house and smashed a couple of mirrors, seemingly breaking a knuckle and cutting my foot in the process. I turned every light out in the house, got a knife and a quilt and created a kind of den where I felt safe til Alex got in. I kept hearing the phone ring but the voices told me not answer then they told me to but I couldnt figure out how to anyway in the end. I heard the door knock, same thing, sheer panic and paranoia, I couldnt work my phone to ring the crisis team so I started cutting my arm to try and appease the visions and the voices, it didnt work so I held tight until alex discovered me, a fucking wreck lying in my make-shift castle! She rang the crisis team and they came out at 3am to see me, they calmed me and said they'd get me in touch with the early intervention psychosis team who would come out to do yet another assesment on me.
That week had been a fucking nightmare in all honesty, on the Saturday Sunderland played Fulham, I made a massive, massive mistake and drank, I drank hard, to forget the week, to numb the pain, I got back home and I drank more, Alex was powerless to stop me, I got through ¾ of a bottle of Vodka and Cranberry (rock n roll eh?!) and just completely broke down, I was a wreck, I was shouting at the visions, arguing with the voices, I just wanted to see my brother who seems to have a calming influence on me. I, again spoke to the Crisis Team and then Alex, fucking star that she is, managed to drive to Sunderland while talking me through the hell I was facing. We got there and my bro talked to me for ages, let me have 1 gin and tonic and then told me to get the fuck to bed.
To compound a shite week The Tav lost 0-2 on the Sunday, first loss in 11 games. (all match reports can be read on my other blog 'tactics tactics tactics', canny read id say!)
Hexham and the start of real help...
I did some reading up on Bi-polar disorder, it scared the shit out of me I’ll tell you, it also looked like I had a lot of the signs, this both worried and soothed my mind a bit as I could try and get my mind around what was going on and what it was I now had to deal with. At work I fought like a beaver to keep my 'crazy' under wraps but one day it all got too much, id been out dropping one of the lads off at college and I just parked up in McDonald car park and fucking bawled my eyes out. I decided then to tell work that I wasn’t well and that it was being looked into, work were excellent with me and I cant thank them enough for there support to date.
Very soon the appointment dropped through the letterbox for me to go and see a psychiatrist, Dr Ryman, she then assessed me and asked me loads of questions about my childhood, I declined telling her that my cousin had twice split my head open and another cousin literally pissed himself while watching the opening sequence of 'Ghostbusters', all in all I had a fucking top notch upbringing, wanted for nowt and got pretty much everything I ever wanted, including, apparently, the last pair of size 4 Puma Kings in Scotland that big ray hunted down one Christmas. She also asked about my alcohol and narcotic intake to which I was frank, I have a session once a week, im not the kind of lad who can stop at one and because of the highs I go on and on forever, or until im bundled into a taxi home, and ive knocked the naughty stuff on the head (bar one or two slip ups, Dutchy and sams 21st where I gurned to an Olympic standard and chewed 2 professional footballers lugs off all night being one of them). I think that at this stage with my head the way it is I needed to be completely honest with everyone and im pretty proud that I managed to do that.
The session lasted an hour and she asked me to see her a fortnight later and to fill in a mood chart, now people who went to Brunel with me will know that I hate opening up and documenting bullshit about my feelings and thoughts, im a northern lad who likes to keep an air of mystery about myself!
Anyway she gave me some other drugs to take, 50mg or Sertraline, an anti-depressant, and 400mg of Quitiepine, an anti-psychotic. At this stage the voices in my head were getting more sinister and they seemed to still be coming from 'inside' my head, but there now seemed to be 4 or 5 prevalent voices to go along with the chitter-chatter that was a constant. The personalised voices would say things like they were there to look after me and that i am invincible, then in thee next breath telling me to harm myself and good, after all im invincible right? The lying fucking bastards, my arms and legs are like ribbons now. On particularly deep cut to my right forearm saw me take a trip to A&E where I was referred to a Mental Health Crisis Team, who have been in touch with me almost daily now for a month.
Alongside all of this my 'out', one of the things keeping me going, along with my fantastic family and friends my Football team were winning game after game, and we sit top of the league at present, I seem to be canny at this footy management lark! though when we do lose I react to it badly, it plays on my mind for days and days, what could I have done, why didn’t I tell me left back to get on the wingers toes rather than behind him for that throw, I have to be the best, second place to me is first loser and that wont do. Im obsessive about it, just another string to the bow, OCD, cupboards immaculate, clothes ordered dark to light, counting everything in a 4/4 beat, etc
All of these things and the mood chart added up to a bi-polar disorder style illness, all of this made my mind run more and more overtime, the incessant checking of symptoms on internet sites, the crisis team contacting me, trips to the docs and again to the psychiatrist, the drugs, the lack of sleep, putting weight on for no particular reason all should be making me better but im so confused I don’t know what to do for the best at times.
The North
In my mind moving back to the north east was a great thing, id sorted out starting a new Football Club, The Colliery Tavern which would start playing next season, although even as it was happening I wasn’t as happy as I could have been, should have been even. Still I felt like I was just watching my life roll by. When I arrived in Hexham, a beautiful historic small town on the Tyne river, it is really quaint and quiet and exactly what I think I need. The first few weeks were OK, I was spending my time trying to find a job and signed onto the dole, a disheartening and depressing experience in itself, even in such a lovely place. At this time the voices were still there and seemed to becoming more prominent, but I found some solace in some fellow mackems who lived up near my new base and went along to football training with them. With my first touch I dispossessed a defender and with the second stroked the ball into the net. All downhill from there! I played 2 games for The Anchor and quite enjoyed the banter and that but I don’t think many of the lads took to me as I scored in my second game and no bugger celebrated with me, haha!! Actually that is one of the things I look back on often as I don’t really understand why it went that way, I don’t think I done anything to offend anyone but I often analyse small things that have happened that become big issues in my mind and cause me anxiety.
Alex noticed that my moods and swings were getting more frequent and worse, and from this I went back to the doctor, this time I saw a doctor in a big medical centre who again seemed to pass it off as a phase but gave me some Prozac, this time though I knew my condition was worsening so I went back after a while and asked to see another Doc, this time I got Dr Thompson, who took a lot of time to listen, talk and help and re assure me that I could get better over time, she kept me on Prozac, which I took for a few months in different doses, again this didn't really touch the depression which was getting worse, to the point where I would spend days on end just knocking about the house watching Rachel Reilly and Jeff lad on Countdown or Georgie on Sky Sports News, I also watched a lot of cricket which was a bonus. Cricket is my kind of sport, one where you have to think and use different strategies to outwit your mortal enemy.
Eventually I went to get a tattoo of a Mexican sugar skull, to signify a new start, i've got 5 tatts now, I enjoy the pain I think. While I was there I was chatting to the lad doing the inking, he mentioned that he had a client who was in my line of work(ish) and passed her number on. I rang up on the Friday, got an interview on the following Tuesday and got offered a job as a residential care worker in Durham on the Wednesday. Things looking up!! If only, I really should have been happy at this, living home, fresh start, new job, seeing mates, family loads... But still, still the emptiness and dispear took hold, and the depression worsened. In between bouts of depression I had one really mad episode where I slept about 3 hours a night for a week and had more energy than I have ever had, like id been at the amphetamines constantly, back to the doc I went, this time she refereed me to a mental health team as she felt I was becoming out of control and needed a proper assessment. As she felt that I had the signs of Bipolar disorder.
Once upon a time...
I first started to feel depressed around 2 years ago, in this time I was working and living many miles from my hometown, Sunderland, in Medway, Kent. I would describe myself as a normal lads lad, drink plenty of pints, dabble in a few substances and generally be a nuisance from time to time, I went to Sunderland games whenever funds allowed, which was a canny bit, where my mates and myself would get bladdered on trains, again have a bit marching powder and play up to the typical football fan stereo type.
Also at this time I was working full time as a youth worker, and I think I was a pretty good one actually, didnt get a lot of negative feedback over this time at all, and socially I ran a football club called The White Horse, where I set up a reserves team too to expand the club. The club was quite successful, being promoted and winning a cup in my last season, while the ressies under my good friend, Gary, more than held their own. Myself and Gary also ran a Sunday team of under 18's, who were actually under 17's called Rochester City who again, I enjoyed being a part of and we had a fairly successful season after a frankly fucking terrible start. Through this time watching and helping a few of the young lads develop and even regularly play for The White Horse teams on a Saturday was a great buzz for me, to see them learn how I feel is the right way to play was class, I felt that I left a bit of a legacy at those 2 clubs and at present I miss them at times.
Although I was always busy doing this and that, mostly around football or with my wife, Alex and our quite wide group of mates I felt very isolated and alone, even surrounded by 25 plus mates at football, getting on very well with work collegues, who I loved working with, I started to self harm, just a little bit, and found that this gave me a quick release from the mental stresses, or so I thought they were at the time. After a while and feeling more and more alone and 'down' and having a chat with Alex I decided to go to see our local GP. On my first visit he sort of just dismissed me out of hand as going through a phase. I went back a couple of months later and I was put on a course of Amitriptyline, little blue pills, they basically made me want to fight the world and ended up with me on more than one occasion getting into fights with people while out with friends, again I visited the doctor and he decided that I would be given some extra help through telephone conversations with a psychiatrist. The first session lasted 45 minutes and it was just really a routine load of questions about what I enjoyed and what my daily routine was, from this she called me again and told me to 'do more stuff I enjoy' and keep a mood diary and 'see how I get on'. The psychiatrist never rang again and I felt that I should just deal with it myself and try and pick myself up through my own means.
By my own means would generally end up with me sitting in The White Horse on a Saturday early evening after a match (normally a win!!), drinking a few too many pints of Guiness and then going home and arguing with Alex about wanting to go out/ going out with some of the football lads and taking a few drugs and ending up in scraps. As I was doing this I knew that it wasn't the right thing to do and that it was detrimental to my health, the turning point was when I bought 3 grammes of powder and took them on my own in the pub while no one else was on it. It felt like some days like a Thursday say, I would be buzzing for the weekend, I wouldnt sleep and I would be fidgety and desperate to keep going and doing stuff, this would carry into the weekend and id chase that natural high with narcotics and booze, for a time I fucking loved it but then I found that instead of one day hangovers it was taking me 3 or 4 days to get over a drinking session, I felt 'detatched' from my own self, it was as if I wasn't me, it was then, late in my time in Kent, that I began hearing 'chitter-chatter' voices in the back of my mind, this isn't something that really came to the fore until after we had decided to move back to the north east and Alex had already left and I was staying with friends for a couple of weeks, in which time I spent a lot of time alone, I lied to work about something or other and left 2 weeks earlier than I was supposed to and moved up to Hexham.
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