Have  you ever wondered what it’s like to be locked inside yourself? Or not being able to express the feelings inside you?

I’d like to talk about something that I know will make a lot of people shocked, but it has to be said. As you know, I’m bipolar and have been for a few years now. I was diagnosed when I lived in the US, I was on a daily dose of Xoloft and I was okay on meds. Without medication, I fall to pieces on a constant basis. I mentally beat myself up, I put myself down, I don’t have the confidence to do anything outside of my regular routine and if I do I go over the top like leave the country on spontaineous holidays or spend money on things I don’t need. I feel like everyone hates me and that I cannot do anything right without making someone angry. People have told me how they believe me to be the most happy, positive person they know. They say I’m confident and I make everyone feel like they’re my best friend. And this all comes natural to me. I can’t not be nice to people. I can’t be a bitch unless provoked. I’m always thinking about how my actions affect others, I’m highly concious about how other people feel and frequently put myself before others.

And then the dark times are really dark .Like last night. I lay in bed sobbing because I felt like my life was never going to go anywhere. My life has been and gone, has passed me by and now it’s too late and it’s in the past. I love my daughter and I spoke to my ex last night. I sat there on the phone in floods of tears apologising over and over for being an utter bitch to him. It’s been three years since I left and it’s the first real apology I’ve ever made to him. I fucked up our marriage so bad by not getting help sooner. Once I got the help and the medication, he told me I was like Old Nickie vs New Nickie. He said on medication I was the Old Nickie that he married and he begged me to stay and I still left. There’s not a day that goes by where I regret leaving everything behind to come back to the UK. Even with the high cost of my meds, my friends were there and I had access to doctors that actually gave a crap about how I felt.

Here, I’ve had nothing. Not a single pill, or a prescription or a therapy session. And it’s not through lack of trying. The first time, I begged my parents to take the rifle from the garage and shoot me in the yard. Like get down on my knees and begged, sobbing, snot dripping from my nose- the works. I was deeply depressed, had no job, missed American life and my family and friends. I felt like I had nothing to live for. Of course, you can understand from my parents point of view, their only daughter on her knees begging them to end her life- must have been horrible for them. So the next morning, they drove me to the local doctors surgery. I sat there with my Dad as he passed me tissues while I was still sobbing at everyone. The Dr basically told me that he would refer me to the local hospital for a psych analysis. That was two years ago and I’ve heard nothing. Six months after that, I stood in the middle of my bar job with a large shard of glass threatening to slash my wrists in front of all the customers. Of course, the boss told me to leave and never come back. I walked through the city bawling my eyes out, got onto the bus and went to the hospital. I literally went and handed myself over. Begged them to commit me. Guess what they did? Referred me back to my Drs.

In the last two and a half years has it really gotten any better? No. I’m just better at hiding it now. I still cry, I still break down and think the world hates me. But having a job means I have something in my life that takes a good chunk of the day away. I can’t sit around moping if I have to work. I can’t break down at work, although I still do. I feel like I’m starting to slip into a black hole again and all I’m going to get from my Drs office is the vicious circle of Drs Office -> Hospital -> Drs Office. No one wants to deal with me. No one seems to care. I need medication and the Dr wont give it to me until I’ve had a full psych analysis from the hospital. I know what I have. It’s Type 2 Bipolar. But my Dr won’t listen to the American Drs. I’ve even told them that I will happily pay for my psych file from Milwaukee Mental Health to be sent over. But they won’t have any of it and I’m sick of tired of feeling I’m a burden to the system.

They basically won’t do anything until I’m being rushed to hospital with blood pouring from my wrists. I’m trying to stop myself getting to that point. But it’s hopeless.


5 thoughts on “Mental

  1. I hate that you’re having to go through this and the utterly disgraceful system we have in the UK. It’s all wrong and everyone apart from health officials seem to see it. People who need help don’t get it and those who don’t seem to get a free reign. Have you the motivation to get into some other hobbies? Anything at all? You said work seems to take up a chunk of the day, maybe you can try and fill it a little more? I’m no doctor and I don’t want to seem like I’m preaching on things I don’t know a lot about, but I wish you the best and hope that you get the help you want soon. I really mean that. I mainly blog about health and fitness from my point of view, and general ramblings, come on over and chat if you’re ever at a loose end for things to do 🙂

    Beckie xx

    • Thanks so much for your lovely comment. I’m glad that you realise that the system here sucks, I’ve been a product of the poor NHS system for years and this just makes me want to spend out for private insurance. Looking at me, you would believe that nothing was wrong with me but scratch the surface and you will see that I’m a mess. I need to get back into my running, but the last time I did I ended up with plantar facilitus so it wasn’t good. Feeling like I’m walking on broken glass was not fun. Writing helps me with my moods but I really need exercise and frankly, I’m at a loss. I could use the help of someone like you.

      • That’s no problem! I think you’re actually very brave speaking out about how you actually feel, not many people can do that, honestly. The NHS most definitely does lack somewhat…Well i’m here if you need a chat, can always have a natter about anything – types of ways to get you back into exercise if you like 🙂 My mum is currently suffering with plantar facilitus, 2 and half years it’s been going on so I’ve seen from her pain how awful it can be 😦 but the good news is there’s always a way to work around that. I hope work’s keeping you occupied for now, I’m on facebook/twitter if you’re about. Hope to chat in the future 🙂 x

  2. You said that the doctors won’t give you any more medicine until you have had a full psych evaluation. I know that you know what your diagnosis is, but it sounds like just consenting to the evaluation wouldn’t be such a horrible idea. Who knows? They may find something that the doctors here didn’t and could possibly treat you better for it. I guess I’m just trying to understand why the psych evaluation doesn’t seem to be a possibility. Is it money? Time?

    • Its not so much that I don’t want the psych evaluation because I do. It’s more of the case that I keep getting referred to the hospital and I sit at home waiting for an appointment to be made for me, and it never happens. I would just call up and make the appointment but because it’s a referral…I just have to sit on my hands and wait. It’s very frustrating and it’s very much a vicious circle.

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