Monday, April 18, 2011

Week of Hell

I have seriously had the worst week since I was in treatment. It all started two weeks ago when I saw my psychiatrist. We decided to take me off the sleep meds and take the same med earlier so I didn’t randomly eat at night. Of course me, being me, forgot that I took another med with the sleep meds and didn’t take it until last Thursday… The last time I stopped taking this med I ended up back inpatient for a week because I got suicidal. That was just me thinking I didn’t need it though, not just fricking forgetting. So since last Sunday things have been really bad. The best way I can describe it is as being impulsively self-destructive. I wasn’t suicidal at all I just didn’t feel like I could stop whatever I wanted to do to hurt myself. So it was a terrible week and I’m finally feeling a lot better after my med has caught up but honestly I scared the shit out of myself and almost drove myself to the er a few times. I just felt like I needed to see the pain.

It wasn’t just the med though and I know that. Last Sunday I wrote a letter to my parents to explain to them why I felt like taking a year off would be good. I want more experience, I want to get into a double masters program, I want to be almost done with trauma so I can do my job well. I want to work on my nonprofit…there are so many more reasons than just bc I’m mentally unstable… and my therapist also thought it would help them if they had more context about the trauma. I wish I hadn’t listened but I wanted them to understand and I hoped they would. Just thinking about sending it made me really upset Sunday night and I sent it Monday night. My mom responded Tuesday morning and I’m writing another post about what she said. But she made me feel like a horrible person for not wanting to get to know my family better. I feel like I need to move back to CO somewhere to get to know my cousins and grandparents better…BUT I DON’T WANT TO. And I’m sorry if that makes me a bad person and relative or whatever. I can’t explain all the reasons I don’t want to or don’t care deeply about my relationship with my family. I’m sorry. I don’t know what that says about me but it makes me feel like shit.

That day I did SO many things to try not to drink- I just wanted to to hurt myself, it was for a not good reason. But I did things to try to convince myself not to- I called my therapist and a friend. I went to luch with another friend, then a walk with another, dinner with another, and finally a support group where I talked about the urges. I still drank. I honestly HAD to. I was SO impulsive and not in a place to care last week. I don’t want that to be an excuse but I feel like it is at least important. But my therapist was like well you knew you were going to do it so you didn’t really try not to…Uhh yeah so I was pretty sure I was going to. I REALLY wanted to. BUT I didn’t until I did all these other things. At least I tried and I don’t understand why she doesn’t think that’s at least a little important. I was honestly hoping something would change my mind- it just didn’t.

Ok last thing before I write about my parent’s responses. My dad responded last night and I fell apart. BUT I didn’t have any urges- I have no clue why because what he said really hurt me, but the point is I’m feeling better. And although it’s not the only reason, the med withdraw was a factor. I’m afraid she thinks I’m using that as an excuse. Am I? I just feel like I don’t know myself anymore after all of this :(

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