Hey Guys… Some New Medication!

PrescriptionBagYeah! I have finally been given some medication to fight off my illness. You might remember I was previously prescribed an anti-anxiety drug, Propranolol, to help calm me down on which I took a small overdose and received absolutely no help. I even said I was going to do something similar again and still no help. So what’s the solution? Give me something that is easier to overdose on (guess what it is while you read the post, a lot of my readers on anti-depressants may have heard of it). This is a win-win situation for me as it could make me feel better, or it will make me suicidal. With the mood I’m currently in I don’t really care which one happens.

It was my CAMHS counsellor (the one I hate) who prescribed me the medication. I am not yet sure whether I have been officially diagnosed with depression but everyone treats me as if I have. That’s why it was a shock to me that they told me today they believe I have social anxiety, and to combat it they will give me a drug that has a common side-effect of anxiety. The drug doesn’t seem to be used to treat anxiety (well it is, but I heard they use other methods first) which confuses me even more. Have I ever told you I think my counsellor is crazier than me?

Anyway, anxiety? I strongly believe that I don’t have social anxiety despite the odd panic attacks I have. If I do have social anxiety disorder it would confuse me even more as it does not explain any of the symptoms I have noticed except for avoiding contact sometimes (and the panic attacks). Depression still seems to fit most of the symptoms. From my knowledge of mental illnesses I might possibly have bipolar disorder or borderline personality disorder but I doubt it for either. I don’t really have much of a manic phase and my depressed/angry/anxious/kind-of-happy mood swings are very unpredictable. I don’t know much about borderline personality disorder so I wouldn’t want to say I have it, I could ask my GP but I’ll probably want to learn more about it first. Readers, fire information at me! So yeah, I still believe I have depression, I don’t believe my counsellor.

The medication (keep thinking what it is) is being kept by my mum. I don’t really talk to her but people want to make sure I don’t overdose. The medication is in liquid form for two weeks, then I will start on the tablets of higher dosage if there are no horrible side-effects. I’m not sure if being a liquid form makes it easier or harder to overdose (I wouldn’t have enough to overdose anyway) but they wont let me take care of it. I find liquid easier to swallow than tablets or pills.

At the moment I am in a “oh, I can’t be bothered to do anything” mood. I was listening to music and playing video games when I suddenly turned very depressed. I cut myself, then I regretted it so I started writing this post. Interesting life, right? From my terrible dancing in my room I have somehow learned a great dance FluoxetineBottle move that I need to show someone… but everyone is at college so there is no one to show. It is one of those moves where you either do it perfectly or you fail and everyone laughs at you. Why am I talking about this?

So here is the medication.

Well… I am on 10mg/2.5ml a day (which isn’t a lot) of Fluoxetine, which some of you may know as Prozac. They will up the dosage in two weeks if, like I said earlier, there are no strange side-effects. Dead or alive, I can’t feel as bad after I take this drug than before. Surely not…

The CAMHS Crisis: My Counsellor Killed Me

Well, it’s me again, and I’ve just got back from my CAMHS counsellor who I am now certain is trying to kill me. When you say you have a plan to kill yourself shortly after attempting an overdose, you should expect some help. Well… not if you have my counsellor. I’ve heard countless stories about this before but I thought maybe CAMHS could help me, at least they have now shown me their true colours.

You will notice that as I write this the drugs from my overdose have probably left my system since I am pumped with adrenaline, ready to complain about how CAMHS, run by the NHS who is owned by the government, doesn’t want to help me and is essentially leaving me to die.

Prior to my meeting today they had been informed by my college counsellor that I had taken an overdose on Saturday night. I’m still alive if you are wondering (seriously, you should have guessed) and I was starting to feel a little bit better until I saw CAMHS. They also know that I actively self-harm, and that I am currently receiving very little help. I get help from my GP who I see once a week but they are only their to listen to me. I get help from the college counsellor, who is someone who will actually listen to me. CAMHS also know that I am not very happy with them, since they told me that they could not help me with my depression that they haven’t diagnosed yet (the GP believes I have it though).

The meeting started off with talking about my overdose. I wasn’t exactly sure what they wanted me to tell them. They already know what I took, when I took it and what happened afterwards regarding college and the NHS. The only information I could give them was that I told my friend after the overdose happened, and that they told me to go to see a doctor. I didn’t see a doctor, CAMHS did not really care why. CAMHS were not that interested in why I overdosed but I believe they asked me once, possibly twice. They were very concerned about why I told that particular friend. Do they believe I am a bad person for not telling my other friends? Do I have a secret illegal drug deal with this friend and I must tell them I might die, which means they don’t get their regular fix? I wouldn’t be surprised if that is what CAMHS believed. Anyway, I gave them some information added onto what they already know. You can’t say I’m not communicating.

Next they gave me a questionnaire to complete, their were over 100 questions on it. For each question I had to answer with “Never”, “Sometimes”, “Often” or “Always”. Only a few questions were yes or no. Pretty simple, and it should be obvious in some cases whether the person answering will need help. I’ll show you some of my answers to the questions.

Do you self-harm?
I wish I were dead.
I feel no one loves me.
Do you have a plan to kill yourself?

Now if someone came up to me and said they regularly cut themselves, they have no one that loves them, that they wish they were dead and had a plan to do it I would be extremely concerned about them, and would try to give them all the help I could get. If I also knew about their recent attempt to overdose I would be in tears. Apparently CAMHS don’t care though, as you’ll see through the rest of the post. I also want to note that I don’t actually have another plan yet but I’m thinking, I do still have my rope from ages ago.

So after this questionnaire they decided they were going to pass me onto their supervisor. I’m guessing they didn’t know what to do with me (I think they are in training still). I small part of my mind makes me think they can’t be bothered to deal with me, but while I’m thinking straight I’ll say that probably isn’t the case. I wouldn’t be surprised though it they couldn’t be bothered. They sent me back to the waiting area with my mum while the counsellor and supervisor talked.

A short while of waiting and I’m being led into a room with both the counsellor and supervisor. The supervisor is now pretending they know everything about my life, claiming that I am embarrassed to talk about whatever I wont talk about. They were certain I was embarrassed, after only a few minutes of knowing me (or not really knowing me). They found out a few things about my personal life such as what relatives lived with me and what I study at college. They are so quick to judge, if I were to judge them I would say they haven’t had a proper education. In fact I have convinced myself that when I get my A-Level maths qualification in the summer I will be a better qualified psychologist than them. Yes, I’m convinced. The whole way they act, they believe they know my life story without talking to me, they think they know everything I am thinking. They told me what they “know” I am thinking, and it wasn’t. They don’t seem to want to discuss it very much, so I don’t really have much of a chance to tell them. I wouldn’t want to talk to someone as rude as them anyway.

So they were stuck, their detective skills were unable to figure out everything so they brought my mum in the room. They then talked to my mum as if I weren’t in the room. How was he growing up? Was he dropped on the head is what they were getting at. How is his relationship with his family? What he abused by anyone in the family is what they were getting at. What does he do with his friends? Is he a drug abuser or a prostitute is what they were getting at. How rude, I was wondering if I was invisible at this point. I was beginning to think I was Harry Potter was the invisibility cloak, and Hagrid was about to come at take me to Hogwarts, which would explain why I don’t fit in around here.

The talking went on and on. I can’t remember everything they said as they just talked, didn’t care about me being involved in the conversation, only about making me feel bad. They dropped a lot of hints to make me force them to tell them everything, but they wouldn’t ask me. They hinted at me getting kicked out of college if I don’t tell them, but I’ll talk to my college tomorrow and confirm this isn’t true. They were saying I will be stuck like this forever if I don’t tell them, but I never knew the cure for depression was talking to rude, inconsiderate people. Eventually they allowed me and my mum to leave. Yes, the guy with a plan on killing himself was allowed to walk out of the government organisation designed to keep him safe.

So in the end you can see I am very angry. I was expecting more. One of the questions on the questionnaire was talking about if I wanted help, and I said yes to it so they can’t say I didn’t ask. Even if I didn’t, you would expect them to try and help me. I’m sure a lot of the people who get put on mental wards do not ask for help. I’m not even saying they had to put me in hospital, I received no help for keeping safe or anything. They didn’t tell me to stay with other people to keep safe. They are threatening me saying I must tell them more information during the next meeting or else I won’t be able to work with them. The threat isn’t very good because I don’t really want to talk to anyone like them. I’ll be glad to get them out of my life.

Now comes the honest part. I hope they get fired. I will complain to my local MP, I will complain to CAMHS, and I will complain to the government. They need to review these people who are meant to be helping me, and if this is a CAMHS-wide problem the whole organisation should be reviewed. If they don’t want to help me, I hope they get fired. After all, their job is to help me.

So what help will I receive now? I still have my college counsellor to talk to, who is far more helpful. I am going to see my GP tomorrow as well, and I’ll tell them what disgusting people I had to put up with today. Yes, I’m angry. But at least I have my readers to comfort me, how is everyone else doing?

The Chronicles of the Tablets: Not In Hospital Yet

This is a follow-up post based on what has happened to me, basically about the small overdose of anti-anxiety tablets which is till affecting me. It happened on Saturday evening and I am still suffering from chest pains and the occasional stomach pain, this post will update you on the situation. If you want to read more (previous) posts they are linked below in chronological order:
1) Please Kill Me – Things That Make Me Depressed
2) Thinking To Myself About Suicide
3) The Swallowing of the Tablets
4) The Chronicles of the Tablets: What’s Happening To Me…

Okay, so my lovely readers deserve to know what is going on. During the writing of my last post, my mum was on the phone to the NHS. The NHS did not bring an ambulance! I’m not actually surprised as they booked an appointment for me to see a GP within a few hours. A few hours passed and my mum got a phone call from the GP that I do not need to see them. I have no idea why, I have not been given an explanation. I do not know if my mum knows, but I am not going to answer.

Today I went back to college (the day after they sent me home) and spoke to the college counsellor. They explained why they had to send me home, because of the risk of me harming myself, and that they are still here for me whenever I need them. The one thing I remember them saying is that if the tablets were anti-depressants I would have definitely been in hospital but since they were anti-anxiety tablets I was fine (well… not as bad). My college counsellor booked me an appointment for my CAMHS counsellor tomorrow, who I don’t enjoy speaking to but can give me better help since they are connected to the NHS.

Right now I am thinking about what to say tomorrow. I know that if I tell my CAMHS counsellor I am thinking and planning suicide they will have to put me into hospital (due to them being connected to the NHS). I am deciding whether to do it. I can also predict the comments on this post now I have said that. Anyway… yes, I have to go to the counsellor tomorrow. That’s all!

That’s not all! If I don’t go to hospital tomorrow I will do another one of my helpful articles tomorrow (if you want something specific, tell me in the comments). I haven’t decided exactly what it will be on yet. Also, I need to do more poems!

The Chronicles of the Tablets: What’s Happening To Me…

This is a follow-up post based on what has happened to me, basically about the small overdose of anti-anxiety tablets which is till affecting me. It happened on Saturday evening and I am still suffering from chest pains and the occasional stomach pain, this post will update you on the situation. If you want to read more (previous) posts they are linked below in chronological order:
1) Please Kill Me – Things That Make Me Depressed
2) Thinking To Myself About Suicide
3) The Swallowing of the Tablets

I’ve received a lot of advice from my friend and from many of my readers about seeing a doctor if I still have overdose symptoms. I haven’t seen a doctor yet. I went to college today and talked to the college counsellor about the incident of Saturday. Actually, I did not talk much except for the first few minutes where I explained what happened, then she asked a lot of questions which I replied to with “no” or “don’t know”. She then broke confidentiality and rang my mum. I’ve been taken home, and I presume I am going to be locked in my own home for the rest of the day unless something else happens.

As I type this my mum is on the phone to the NHS 111 number, getting advice about me. The only thing about this that I worry about is that they will have to put me in hospital, so if you do not hear from me in the next day I am probably in hospital. I imagine they are going to make me go to hospital to check I am fine after the overdose, and then they will send me to a mental health ward (because I’m still a bit suicidal). I always say I don’t want to go to hospital, and I’m still not sure about it.

In regards to my physical health, I am still feelings chest pains. I would call them heart pains but I don’t know if that is a real thing. I was having some bad stomach pains last night too but they have stopped. I have tried to talk to my friend but they are away still, and now I am probably locked in my house so I don’t see how I can see them. The whole time I have been writing this, my mum has been on the phone to the NHS so I am unsure whether they are about to do anything. I will write another update later if I am fine and not in hospital, so goodbye for now.

P.S. She is giving my name and address so does that mean an ambulance?

The Swallowing of the Tablets

After my previous talk of suicide I decided I had to do something. Today has been a rollercoaster of a day for me, it started off well but turned disastrous quite quickly. After receiving my tablets from the GP yesterday I knew I was going to do something bad, and today was the day for it.

Click here to read the post where I explained what I hoped to do today.

Shortly before midnight I called the Samaritans helpline. I don’t usually call the helplines as I don’t find them as useful as the email chat from Samaritans and the 1-2-1 chat from Childline. I gave it a chance though. It didn’t help much, the advice I got in the end was to speak to my GP who I can’t actually see until Thursday (or I could see another GP on Monday – still days away). Still hopeless, the next thing on my list was to call my friend… they didn’t answer. I sent them a text asking them to call me as soon as they can.

It was now roughly 30 minutes past midnight and I’m sitting up in bed, this is the beginning of a sleepless night, I can sense it. Then my phone vibrates, I dash to pick it up knowing it would be my friend (nobody really calls me after midnight). With the phone in my hand I quietly walked downstairs so that my family would not hear the conversation if they were awake. Despite them not knowing much about depression, my friend promised they would try to help me. We agreed that I needed to get rid of the tablets but they were away so they couldn’t take them from me. I would throw them away in the morning.

So back to my bedroom I go and I can’t sleep. I attempt to get to sleep but it fails so I load up my laptop and look at some college work. I can’t get the college work done so I download some music and just listen, I need to relax. The time was 4:30am when I finally got to sleep but I woke up at 8am so I had less than 4 hours of sleep. I guess that could effect my thinking for the day ahead.

First part? Think about the tablets. It was the only thing on my mind on Friday, and would be the only thing on my mind today. To distract myself I try to focus on less depressing things, but my mind drifts back to harming myself. This time I think about my knife. Where is it? I can’t find it, how am I meant to cut myself? I search all over my room, desperately hoping it will appear. But it is nowhere to be found. This makes me both angry and disappointed, not a good combination. I spent the rest of the morning feels depressed and wanting to harm myself.

Click here to read “Please Kill Me – Things That Make Me Depressed”, the post that started this off.

In the afternoon I grabbed my jacket and filled my pockets with specific items. Some money, headphones, my phone, a notepad… and of course my tablets and some rope. If you have read some of my previous posts you will know I always seem to go to the park when I think about suicide, which is exactly what I did today. Although of the way I spent some of the money on two drinks, both for myself. When I arrived at the park I looked for a suitable spot the do the deed.

I placed the drinks down beside a tree, away from where the people were walking. I then took the tablets out of my pocket and took one from the foil. With the help of the drink I bought the tablet went down. One done. I quickly moved onto the second tablet, and it went down with ease. Two tablets done so far. I moved on to the third tablet, and within a couple of minutes I had already taken three of my fourteen tablets, this was going to be easy I thought. I took a short break. During this break my chest began to hurt. It was not a horrible pain, but it was noticeable and clearly related to the tablets I took.

Back onto taking the tablets. I managed to get the fourth one down before I realised exactly what I was doing. After taking the fourth tablet I questioned myself. Why am I doing this? Well… there isn’t any point in living. I knew I could not persuade myself to get out of the situation so I remembered some of the comments from you readers. In particular the comments by amandaquirky. Then I tried to call my friend but they would not answer (checking back later, I realised I rang them four times in this period of time). Nope, I was going to continue. Four tablets down, ten to go.

Getting darker the skies are!

Getting darker the skies are!

I decided to move location, to the bushes in the park where less people would see me since it was beginning to get dark. I left one of the drinks behind which I had almost finished, but took everything else. When I got to the bushes I moved quickly onto the fifth tablet. Down! After the walking, and then taking the tablet I was starting to feel a little dizzy. I could still walk fine but I was a bit dizzy, and the chest pains were getting slightly worse. It was all still bearable so I took the sixth tablet. After the sixth tablet I just stood there, possibly for 15 minutes. Doing absolutely nothing. Not because of any pains (I still feeling alright) but because I was fighting with myself to stop.

Taking everything with me, I walked away from the park. I had to get away, I didn’t want to take any more tablets. Or part of me didn’t, the other part was still expecting more. That’s when I took the seventh tablet. As soon as I swallowed the tablet I poured the drink on the ground so that I could not swallow any more tablets. That was the end of that. A success you might call it… except as I walked home the suicidal thoughts were still in my mind. I still had the rope I began with, I could still attempt something. On the sides of the path were benches so I sat down to think. It was dark now, which I always believe is a better time to hang myself (if I ever do it). I spent another 15 minutes thinking about it.

Fortunately the evening was not eventful after that, I made it home. The dizziness had completely gone, but the chest pains were still there and they had been joined by stomach pains. I got home over two hours ago, the chest pains have gone but the stomach pains are still there. I guess that is what happens when you take more tablets than you should. I could say I have learned my lesson, but I will be fighting depression tomorrow and the day after, and it’s always the same fight on a different battlefield.