The Warrior Within

What’s New?

I am currently situated in a psychiatric ward somewhere in the Midlands, UK. I have been on this ward before and its fully of, mostly, lovely staff.

I have caused some serious hurt in the past few weeks, and some confusion so I am here to clear that up.

I have been lying and deceiving my now-ex-fiancee for roughly 5-6 months about everything. Smoking, keeping secrets, the extend of my declining mental health, asking her friends to lie for me to the point where they are guilt ridden, alcohol consumption and lying about food intake (I’m fat and emotionally eat, don’t judge). There is much more that I could list but to be honest, it would do no good. I have lied and deceived the person I love and that’s bad enough without having to go into specifics.

I have made some great friends at Slimming World and have told a select few of my situation. But for the rest of you who cared enough to click on this page, I made a serious suicide attempt on Friday 4th October 2019 and ended up in different sections of the hospital including Resuscitation and Medical Assessment Unit.

I took that many prescription tablets that they struggled to stabilise me. I was on 8 litres of oxygen, I went into secondary respiratory failure. I nearly died.

Right now I wish I had but I’m hoping, with the right support, I will live to regret what I did that night.

I’ve been offered a temporary role in retail over the Christmas period which starts in a few weeks; so I’ve got to be out of this ward by then.

When I was inpatient in July 2019 (ironically on this ward) they promised the community team would deliver so much. But in reality, the CPN (Community Psychiatric Nurse) they said would materialise, hasn’t. The Multi Disciplinary Team – who’ve never met me I’d like to add – have decided it is not in my “best interests” to have support once a fortnight/once a month to keep me ticking over. The counselling they said I’d be eligible for? No funding, or an 18 month waiting list by which time I’ll either have gotten hold of myself or be dead, let’s be frank.

So there you have it folks. The truth. I’ve lost significant friends, realised my true ones and have taken an unwanted but (from her point, wholly necessary) break from the relationship with the love of my life. I feel broken, and destroyed, but I don’t want your sympathy. I don’t deserve it. Please redirect it to the friends, family and loved ones I’ve hurt because they need it more.

Lots of love and apologies. Tracey xxx

My Experience of Hallucinations

I experience visual and auditory hallucinations. To me, I am several shades of fucked up.

BACKGROUND: I was sexually abused as a child by a relative, which last between the ages of 7 and 12, and I still remember to this day how he smelt. How cold his hands were. How painful it was. How embarrassing it was. How I lied through my teeth to protect our family. And how painful my first internal examination was. I was 9. Only three people know the extent to which he went.

I will not name my abuser to protect the family he still has. We will call him Bob. He died, painfully, 15 years ago. I was going to get the criminal justice the child in me deserved but he died 3 months before my 16th birthday and to this day I hold much anger at this fact.

His death, as did his life, haunts me. I don’t mourn his passing and I never will. In fact, on my good days I celebrate the fact he’s dead. I mourn for the justice I never got.

CURRENT: I hear two voices. One is a female, whose identity I don’t know, but the only way I can describe her is as though its someone in another room pottering around. She doesn’t bother me very often, luckily. The other voice is Bob.

Bob tells me to do things. He calls me names. He’s a fucking bully. He tells me to attempt to kill myself by various means (I won’t go into them for fear of someone researching ideas) many of which I have tried…and failed. He is a constant. I could be having a great day mentally, catch sight of myself in the mirror and straight away “you ugly whore” will flow into my ears. I could be eating something. Tonight it was a chicken burger, last month it was a salad. And I get “you’re a stupid, fat slag who needs to die”. I get this voice constantly. It’s like living with him 24/7.

When I am super poorly, like I am now, I also see him at the end of my bed and his shadow follows me around. I hear his footsteps. I see his face. I know, and you now know, he has been dead for 15 years but still he haunts me. He was part of my history where he belongs, and where he stays, but when I am mentally unwell, I visually see him. His body is a shimmery black shadow. His face is pure and clear. It’s like he’s back from the dead.

I used to use a medication that blurred him out both auditory and visually. But they took me off that *eye roll* and put me on an anti-psychotic which apparently works similar. It does…when I’m well.

I use a script when I hear the voice. It may sound silly but it goes something like this (I’m going from memory):

My name is Tracey, I am in (year) and I am safe
Bob is dead and can no longer hurt me
I won this battle because I get to be alive. He died.
The hallucinations are a figure of my imagination because he is dead.
I am in control.
I choose to ignore him, in whatever form he pops up in.

If anyone suffers with hearing voices or visual hallucinations, I’d love to hear how you deal with yours. I’m all for trying new and healthy mechanisms.

I owe it to my future self to move on so:

Dear Bob, I’m glad you died a horrific death. I’m glad it was painful, and horrendous, and I’m glad your bed was not surrounded by heaps of family. I hope you’re burning in Hell for what you did to me, you pathetic excuse of a human.

World Mental Health Day 2019: Suicide Prevention

It’s World Mental Health Day 2019 and this year’s theme is Suicide Prevention. EVERY DAY is Awareness Day for me and my fellow warriors.
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The NHS, as wonderful as this institution is, is SEVERELY underfunded when it comes to mental health. We can raise awareness across social media, we can raise funds for Mind/Samaritans/Papyrus and the like but where is our Government’s hands? In their own back pockets.
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6 weeks ago I was refused a CPN because a team who have never met me decided it was not in my “best interests”. Forward 5 weeks, and I ended up in the care of the NHS with respiratory failure because of my mental health.
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Suicide can be preventable with the right care, timely intervention and support. We’ve all been in that dark place where we’ve felt that no one cares, or our demons will overcome us, or that we are a burden.
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I have said, and will always say, I’d rather listen to 15 minutes of you ranting about why you feel your life is painful, than listen to a 15 minute eulogy.
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Right now, my cup is empty. I cannot pour from an empty cup. I have to recuperate, get my life back on track, rescue relationships and learn to fly again.
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Samaritans are there 24/7 on 116123 💚

Time Out, Thanks

On Friday 4th October I took a concoction of medication and a bottle of wine and my suicide attempt was intervened by police officers. Because of the nature of what I took, I was taken straight to Resus at our local hospital. I woke up in the early hours of Sunday morning.

WHY????

Because I’m a bad person.

This is not going to be a begging post “oh please like me” type shit I’m going to tell you exactly why. On Thursday, 3rd, my Jade found out I lied to her. I deceived her. I broke her heart by lying. She’s always known one of my biggest fears is receiving a Dear John letter. So she left me one explaining the reasons she was so mad, which I totally understood…right next to her engagement ring.

I broke down. I’d been secretly smoking and then lying about it, deceiving her by buying cigarettes and talking to people without her knowledge (my GP and the Samaritans) which indicated to her I had not been honest about my mental health either. It’s been in a state of decline for a few weeks to be honest but I’ve put on a facade for her benefit.

She’d taken her engagement ring off and said the wedding was on hold. Just a day later, on the Friday, she’d found out more lies I’d been telling her and told me I had four options.

We could live together as housemates, come and go as we please and continue sharing the bills etc
I could stop lying and try getting our relationship back on track
I could carry on the way I am, lying to her, and we never get married or,
We part ways.

The optimist in her thinks we’ll go for 2, maybe option 1. The realist in me is 3 or 4.

After my overdose, I remain in the general hospital awaiting a psychiatric bed somewhere in the UK as the local one is full. In my mind, I’ve lost her because I cannot help compulsive lying. I don’t know why I do it, I don’t need to do it because I trust her implicitly. But I deceive her anyway.

I’ve had many comments from people trying to “help” and this is a list of the names I’ve been – rightfully or not is down to opinion – called; manipulative, selfish, disgusting, disgraceful, embarrassing, a burden, a waste of space and a bad person.

The minute she took her engagement ring off I knew deep down she was never going to marry me. How could she? How can she marry someone she doesn’t trust? How can she walk down the aisle thinking, ‘I wonder if these vows will be lies too’?

We are still speaking. There’s no I love you’s, no kisses at the ends of texts. By breaking her heart, I’ve broken my own and I cannot live with that. Whilst I’m eventual inpatient (just waiting for a call from UK’s Crisis Team) I am going to beg for help on quitting smoking successfully. I am going to be on my knees asking for the help I need to STOP FUCKING LYING.

I have also, sadly, taken my engagement ring off. Not as a sign our relationship is over but more as a reminder. Every time I twiddle with my hands, I’m reminded why it’s not there. Every time I go to admire my gorgeous ring, I know I took it off because of how much I hurt my best friend.

Jade, if you’re reading this, which I doubt you will, I want you to know my heart will never stop loving you. If you don’t want to marry me, at least let me be your friend. I can’t imagine a world without you. You and O ARE my world. My world is miserable without you two in it, in fact my heart doesn’t match. I lost one of you, I can’t lose another. I love you with all I have and everything I am.

Overview of DBT for EUPD

DBT (Dialectal Behaviour Therapy) was developed by Marsha Linehan is extremely effective in aiding people with overwhelming emotions, common with people who have Borderline Personality Disorder, or Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder.

“DBT teaches four critically important skills that can both reduce the size of the emotional waves and help you keep your balance when these emotions overwhelm you”.

Distress Tolerance builds resiliency
Mindfulness allows you to experience the present and to overcome negativity
Emotion Regulation teaches you how to observe and modulate emotions without reacting in maladaptive ways
Interpersonal Effectiveness allows you to express your needs, set limits and negotiate solutions to problems without destroying relationships and treating others with respect.

I am, slowly, working my way through “The Dialectal Behavior Therapy Skills Workbook” written by Matthew Mckay PH.D, Jeffrey C. Wood PSY.D and Jeffrey Brantley MD. I will be posting about my journey through this workbook as I end each chapter 🙂 xxx

Top 5 Tips to Surviving the Shit Days

I don’t know if this’ll be helpful to anyone but here’s some advice from someone who has been through the system and been to some of the darkest places known to man. Here is what I have really learned and implemented over 18 years of struggling with my mental health.

Recovery IS possible. It’s hard going, a real struggle and on days when you think you cannot cope anymore…better days are coming. You WILL be happy again. We’re all climbing our individual mountains. Sometimes we stumble. But we get back up. And believe me, the view from the top can be incredible.

Things I have learned:

5×5. If it doesn’t matter in 5 years don’t spend more than 5 minutes worrying about it.
Radical acceptance (is something I’ll go into on a later blog); accepting what is regardless whether you like it or not.
Opposite action (again, I will go into later). Whenever you feel like not showering, pull your energy together into having that shower. Small achievements matter.
Gratitude Journals. I have done these daily for the last 3 years and credit it to staying positive. It makes you see that even with a shitty mental health day there IS a positive in each day, however minor.
Above all, be kind to yourself especially on the days you need to.

I hope this helps someone xxx

Be A Candle

Don’t feel bad if people remember you only when they need you; feel privileged that you are like a candle that comes to their mind when there is darkness.

I used to be upset when people would only come to me when they needed me. Some people need me only every six months, some daily but alas I’m grateful someone still needs me. It gives me a purpose.

Hating Your Body Doesn’t Change It

The theme for Mental Health Awareness Week is body image.
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I have struggled with my weight all my life, been thrown every insult under the sun, been the butt of everyone’s joke because I’m overweight. You’ve heard it? They’ve said it.
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I can change my relationship with food that contributes to my weight. I can challenge my thoughts about myself. What I can’t change or challenge is the accidents that have contributed to the fact I am disabled. I can’t change my pregnancies. I cannot write the wrongs of the past but I can ensure changes in the future.
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Next time you see an overly thin or grossly overweight person I can assure you they’ve thought (and said) worse about themselves so don’t contribute to that self hatred they have going on.
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Even those who are maintaining a healthy weight may still have issues with body image. Someone very close to me (who is literally half my size) has body image issues and she’s absolutely stunning. It’s all RELATIVE.
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Be kind. You never know how big the battle is for someone else 💜

Kindness? Thank You

To the Costa barista who gave me a medium when I paid for a small – thank you.
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To Valerie, on the train for making me smile, hugging me and talking about acceptance of mental health in society – thank you.
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To my Dad who collected/returned me from the station and wrote kind words about me – thank you.
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To my Mum who yesterday said she was proud of me – thank you.
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For my aunties kindness – thank you.
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To the woman on the return journey who offered to help me with my anxiety attack – thank you.
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And lastly to Jade for getting up early to take me to/collected me from station, settling my anxiety attack and who bought me a new memory box – thank you.

🧡 It’s been a thankful/kindness kinda day 🧡

Why Society Is Wrong About Me

It was society that taught me to hate who I am. It was bullying that taught me from a young age that being a different shape from the rest of the girls wasn’t acceptable. That being academically advanced wasn’t cool. That bringing in an ASDA bag for my PE kit instead of an Adidas one was going to cause problems socially.
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I grew up and though I’ve experienced bullying in my adult life, it’s not ground me down like they did when I was a kid. I used to want to be popular. One of the cool kids. But I look at them – and me – now. I’ve fought battles they never thought existed. I might still be fat lol but I think of all I HAVE achieved and that’s worth everything.
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I’ve no reason to hate who I am.
Society is wrong. Not me.