What does it take to get help?

It took me days to get up the courage to pick up the phone and BEG for someone to see me. I was told that the nurse would call me back since the new psychiatrist isn't even there until August. I've heard nothing back. I cried when I talked to them. I feel like I'm going to end up back in the hospital. This time not because I asked to be. They just don't seem to get it. Or to care. FFS, you're in the Mental Health Care field. Don't make me feel like I'm an imposition to you. Don't cut me off when I'm giving you information you asked for. Please take me seriously enough to give me some freaking dignity!

I don't even know if I have enough in me to call again. And I know I need to. I don't want to saddle my friends and family with my despondency. I don't. I also don't really feel like I can anyway. I'm such a freaking needy piece of crap. That's what I feel right now. I'm lost and I'm losing. I should be happy right now. Things are going well.

So, why am I so screwed up? Why am I feeling this way? I know it's the bipolar and the depression. But why me? Why does this have to keep happening? Who did I piss off in another life to get this crappy hand dealt to me? Why can't I just be a happy, healthy wife and mother of two? Why can't I just be normal? Average? Sane?

Where the hell am I? Who the hell am I?

I've been outspoken in the past about mental health. But you know what? That was when I was pretty healthy. People are willing to listen to you then. Once the bad things start happening, ears and minds close. People don't really want to deal with the mentally ill when their illness has hold. They really don't. And it's so hard to feel like I have anywhere to turn. I see posts in the new forum asking for help, but they are asking about normal, everyday clinical depression. They aren't people screaming out for help.

And I don't want to put out more of myself. Not when I know at least one person has spent a good deal of her time reading through everything I've ever posted and judging everything I say and do. I have no idea why she feels the need to do it, but she's more or less straight out told me she does. I don't feel safe asking for help. I don't even know why I still go there. I care for some of the people. I do. But there are many I couldn't give a crap about and others who have gone out of their way to hurt me.

I also don't want to kick off some kind of freak out with people thinking I'm going to hurt myself. I've seen that happen on WB and on the new forum. But I don't want that. I don't need that. I don't want to frighten people and have people feel sorry for me. I don't want pity. I want help. Help that the people on these sites can't give me. I want to be heard by the fucking establishment. I want to be well. I don't want to be a drain on my family and friends.

I've finally hit the point that I'm asking for help. I NEED HELP! Why does it have to be so god-damned hard to get it?

SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE!

Help me...

I'm falling. And I don't know if I can get up.

I don't think I can do this much longer

I've tried. Seems ridiculous when you look at it. But this has been my primary social outlet for years now. Maybe I'm an utter fool. I don't know. I just find that I'm taking things more personally, I'm feeling more depressed, I'm feeling attacked and on a level that I think is utterly despicable. Going on makes me want to cry or I feel resigned. Seeing all the negativity and the ignorance. It used to be that I saw it as an opportunity to educate people. Now it seems like nothing I say comes out right. Anyone else can say the same thing and it's okay, but I say it and I'm vilified. I'm tired of it. Of all of it. I think I'm going to leave before Christmas. I just don't see the point anymore. That and people just seem bound and determined to remain ignorant and small-minded. I do have people that I have come to care about and who've been wonderful. They've been a fantastic support for me. And I love them. But I don't know that they can outweigh all the bad that's there right now. And I'm not even sure if I could stay away. But I'll give it one hell of a shot if I do.

I'm alive

I haven't fallen completely off the face of the planet. I'm trying to start a different blog that will be about sexual health. I have been working at getting better and things have improved. However, other things aren't as good. My mother had a stroke last month. She seems to be okay right now though. Since the last post I also lost my sister-in-law and father-in-law. I'm sure you can understand why I haven't posted on here. But I am getting better. Better than I was.

She's gone

My stepmother Martha passed away this morning at 10:45 EST in Etobicoke, Ontario. She was 53 years young.

She apparently had a very rough night last night (she lost most of her blood last night), but was in high spirits this morning. She had her last rights and was insistent that she didn't want to be hooked up to machines. She's no longer in pain now. That's a blessing.

I'll miss her immensely even though I hadn't really talked much to her or the rest of the fam that frequently. I've never been really good at picking up the phone. And I always feel awkward talking to anyone on the phone.

I'm not sure whether or not I'm going down there. I have the option, it'll be paid for. But I have nowhere to stay and there isn't going to be a funeral. I get the feeling that dad and Louis (my brother) don't really want anyone to come down. If I can't I'm going to have to come up with some way to say my goodbyes and let her go.

I'm also worried about Kita and Rina (my kids). This is their first relative that has passed. I don't know how much they will understand. And how much they'll grieve. You see, they never met Grandma Martha. They'd talked to her on the phone, they've seen old pictures of her (from when I was a child). But they really didn't know her. They never met her. And the only opportunity Kita would have had, she wouldn't remember anyway.

I suppose I'm overanalysing. Right now it's keeping me together. I'm on an emotional roller-coaster and I have no idea when the next dip or hill is.

Waiting on the Edge of a Knife

My step-mother is ill. Her liver failed almost a year ago due to Hep-C and medications. They destroyed her liver completely. I'm not sure if she's on the waitlist for a new one or not, I believe she is. But, she is now in the ICU and "it doesn't look good."

I'm not entirely sure what that means. But I also can't seem to get an answer either. My dad isn't calling me to tell me what's going on. So I assume "no news is good news." But I don't know. And I hate not knowing. It makes things even more stressful.

And stressful is what my life is right now. No money, no prospect of money coming in. Not very happy. Hubby isn't working, not looking for work and I think he is also severely depressed (yay, right). I've convinced him to go see the family doctor to see if we can at least get a little bit extra for another disabled individual (even if temporary). It's not going to bring in what we need, but it's something.

Money again, since loving hubby FORGOT to file his tax return (which I did up for him), we had no child tax benefit in Aug. We also didn't get it in Sept either. His return is being "reviewed" and won't be done until at least November! But, at least these people told me to contact CRA CTB to have them do estimates. I wish I knew that weeks ago so we could have gotten our CTB this past month.

Oh well. Upside of the last week! UPSIDE!!!!

Three very lovely ladies sent us some gift cards to Sobeys that helped us get food to make it to our payment. Thank the Gods and Goddesses. You ladies are wonderful.

Managing One Day at a Time

I'm managing. I've made it out a couple of times. I've stressed a bit about them, but I'm getting better. Little by little. I still have little to no motivation and I'm still having issues with my other co-morbid issues (issues that are alongside the main disorder). I haven't had any real hypomanic episodes in a while. They do happen though. Especially when I start to get upset and animated. If I'm upset and depressed, I just stay depressed, though to a heightened degree.

My trichotillomania kicks off and I worry at the hairs on my chin. I'm starting to notice stray hairs everywhere again. I do multiples of things and I can't stop it. I have to have my meds laid out on Saturday night and the antinauseants need to be in one spot in my basket. If they aren't, I start to freak out. I want my family to help keep things clean and that would help me stay more stable, I know it would. But they just don't do it. And hubby still puts things off and off and off. It drives me crazy. I get so angry. I want to strangle him or scream at him. Something. But he never gets it!

And I want to try to get interested in things again. The stuff I was doing before. But I just don't care yet. *Sigh* I know I'm getting better, but I'm feeling like I just am not making the progress I would like. Still, it's progress and I have to recognise that.