(no subject)
FUCK FUCK FUCK this is pissing me off. Hm. I just had an actual material, EVENT-type end to a very immaterial, very crappy weekend. I've just been PISSED. Nothing much happened for most of it, though mother did make me unplug myself from my mp3 player. She should NOT have done that. BAD. I was already pissed enough to rip holes in the car door. And I'm pissed at NOTHING. Well, not right now I'm not. Right now I'm pissed at Something In Particular. This isn't going anywhere. It hurts So. Fucking. Much. I've been self-medicating constantly, it's the only damn way to get myself through a day, a night, a day...anything at all. Music is a constant necessity, just to curl up on myself and die with it. Sugar. SO much sugar. Get sugar high, that takes pain away nicely, the physical pain at least that comes from the emotional. The THOUGHTS are still there, but the chest pain and tight constrictedness, weakness, HELPLESSness goes. 'Til I sugarcrash, then it all goes to fuck again of course, and I'll make the decision to either ride it out, for my physical health, or go back to being high. And cutting. I cut A LOT now. It's completely spiralled. I know I could make the decision not to. Very occasionally, I do. It just hurts too fucking much. I'd spiral even farther if I stopped, it'd be even worse, I'd be completely unable to cope without this coping method. So. When I'm not doped up on sugar, I'm cutting, and I'm always doped up on music. Evanescence: 'The Open Door' is on repeat. 'Lithium' and 'The Only One' being the most true and the most addictive. And I love 'Snow White Queen'. I'm unable to go back to Three Days Grace. THAT would just be pure self-torture.
And my MOTHER. This is the material part that just happened. The story is this: I've had a bunch of appts with my GP (general practitioner...i think...), and she's prescribed effexor. antidepressant. that was WEEKS ago. That prescription has been sitting on my fucking fridge for about two and a half weeks (I think...I can't for the life of me keep track of ANYTHING anymore, and my perception of the time that's passed is the first to suffer from that). My parents won't let me touch it yet (actually, they just won't pay for it yet, which amounts to the same damn thing). They think my GP is unqualified to prescribe the stuff, they think my GP doesn't know me well enough to, they think they DO know me well enough, they think THEY ARE qualified to tell me I shouldn't/can't take it, or at least to get in my way when I'm trying to FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SHIT!!! Heh. Sry, needed the outburst. I want to destroy things. So now, they're working on getting me a referral to see a psychiatrist. Hm. I'm crying now. Silent-screaming crying. With the exception of right now and briefly last night, I haven't been able to cry in a loooong time. FUCK. The problem is that it will take me far longer to see a psychiatrist than I'm willing to wait. I'll get a referral to the one at Saanich Child and Youth Mental Health, the person getting me the referral thinks I'm looking at sometime in January at the earliest. I can't wait that long, I've already been waiting...since summer, I've been trying to get a referral to a psychiatrist by going the 'trying not to piss off my parents' route, and they always have been (and in a sense, still are) completely against the concept.
I might need this. I AM working on this. I am. I've been going with an outreach worker, with a psychologist at SYMC, I've gotten ahead in some things, like being able to recognize a negative thought, an insult, and turning it around. The PAIN isn't going anywhere, and as it is, I can't do anything at all about the LEGITIMATE negativity. And I feel like crap for NO reason, I've been trying perpetually to feel better, it isn't working.
My mother's reading a book on cognitive behavioural therapy. Which is a lot of what I've been doing with the outreach worker and the psychiatrist. The stupid idiot that wrote that book is fucking with my chances to EVER get my mother to see my side of this issue. It's an OLD book, it's not like the 'altering thought patterns' approach is new, and yet, antidepressants are still used today. DOESN'T THAT TELL YOU ANYTHING, YOU QUACK?! I hate those people, the people that automatically dismiss (or imply that they dismiss) either the CBT or the meds side of it. Goddamn book. I've read a bit of that book, and I'm doing much of the stuff in it. IT STILL feels like fuck, and even if it does/will change, I CAN'T keep doing this forever, or even much longer. I can't cope with it. Fuck the fact that a 'can't' statement might be detrimental, it's goddamn TRUE. She doesn't get that this is serious. That I'M serious. That this is DANGEROUS. I've gotten back into planning suicide, consciously. That I'll want to do it if these people convince my parents that it's not worth it to try the effexor. or something else, if they suggest that another medication might be better. I don't care. It's just something I want to try, and see what it does for me, because what I'm trying isn't doing enough to keep my head above water. What the FUCK is this? I'm 17, legally able to make my own decisions regarding treatment, yet because it's my parents' medical plan that PAYS for it they're allowed to fuck up my life? I'm 'not being honest with myself' about my moods, according to The Bitch. I'm fucking TELLING HER about this these days, and she still has had the nerve to say that.
I'm trying to contemplate living with this for the next three months, if I am forced to wait that long for a psychiatrist. I can't. All it's doing is making my throat hurt and rendering me incapable of breathing until I back off the thought. I can't live that long, through that. And my pediatrician is under the impression that I'm 'improving'. This because he spoke to me about completely non-mental health-related issues, as recently as OCTOBER, which was A MONTH AGO. A month is a LONG time. This is sabotaging my quest for help as well, because it's his opinion, and no others, that my parents are most willing to trust.
I Do Not Sleep. The idea of sleep is abhorrent to me. Sleep eludes me. The desire to sleep eludes me. The NEED for sleep, I'm painfully aware of. I'll be dead tired all day, then unable to sleep until...two, three in the morning or later, and it's been weeks or months since I've gone TO bed at any reasonable time. My outreach worker pointed out the stupidity and futility of lying in bed FORCING myself to suffer in the hope it'll lead me to sleep (which it doesn't). And I suffer whether or not I'm in bed, but at least now I'll suffer whilst NOT being bored.
Help? I need a hug...
You belong to me
My snow-white queen
There's nowhere to run, so let's just give it over
I'm
Losing my mind, and you just
Stand there and stare as my world divides.
And my MOTHER. This is the material part that just happened. The story is this: I've had a bunch of appts with my GP (general practitioner...i think...), and she's prescribed effexor. antidepressant. that was WEEKS ago. That prescription has been sitting on my fucking fridge for about two and a half weeks (I think...I can't for the life of me keep track of ANYTHING anymore, and my perception of the time that's passed is the first to suffer from that). My parents won't let me touch it yet (actually, they just won't pay for it yet, which amounts to the same damn thing). They think my GP is unqualified to prescribe the stuff, they think my GP doesn't know me well enough to, they think they DO know me well enough, they think THEY ARE qualified to tell me I shouldn't/can't take it, or at least to get in my way when I'm trying to FUCKING DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS SHIT!!! Heh. Sry, needed the outburst. I want to destroy things. So now, they're working on getting me a referral to see a psychiatrist. Hm. I'm crying now. Silent-screaming crying. With the exception of right now and briefly last night, I haven't been able to cry in a loooong time. FUCK. The problem is that it will take me far longer to see a psychiatrist than I'm willing to wait. I'll get a referral to the one at Saanich Child and Youth Mental Health, the person getting me the referral thinks I'm looking at sometime in January at the earliest. I can't wait that long, I've already been waiting...since summer, I've been trying to get a referral to a psychiatrist by going the 'trying not to piss off my parents' route, and they always have been (and in a sense, still are) completely against the concept.
I might need this. I AM working on this. I am. I've been going with an outreach worker, with a psychologist at SYMC, I've gotten ahead in some things, like being able to recognize a negative thought, an insult, and turning it around. The PAIN isn't going anywhere, and as it is, I can't do anything at all about the LEGITIMATE negativity. And I feel like crap for NO reason, I've been trying perpetually to feel better, it isn't working.
My mother's reading a book on cognitive behavioural therapy. Which is a lot of what I've been doing with the outreach worker and the psychiatrist. The stupid idiot that wrote that book is fucking with my chances to EVER get my mother to see my side of this issue. It's an OLD book, it's not like the 'altering thought patterns' approach is new, and yet, antidepressants are still used today. DOESN'T THAT TELL YOU ANYTHING, YOU QUACK?! I hate those people, the people that automatically dismiss (or imply that they dismiss) either the CBT or the meds side of it. Goddamn book. I've read a bit of that book, and I'm doing much of the stuff in it. IT STILL feels like fuck, and even if it does/will change, I CAN'T keep doing this forever, or even much longer. I can't cope with it. Fuck the fact that a 'can't' statement might be detrimental, it's goddamn TRUE. She doesn't get that this is serious. That I'M serious. That this is DANGEROUS. I've gotten back into planning suicide, consciously. That I'll want to do it if these people convince my parents that it's not worth it to try the effexor. or something else, if they suggest that another medication might be better. I don't care. It's just something I want to try, and see what it does for me, because what I'm trying isn't doing enough to keep my head above water. What the FUCK is this? I'm 17, legally able to make my own decisions regarding treatment, yet because it's my parents' medical plan that PAYS for it they're allowed to fuck up my life? I'm 'not being honest with myself' about my moods, according to The Bitch. I'm fucking TELLING HER about this these days, and she still has had the nerve to say that.
I'm trying to contemplate living with this for the next three months, if I am forced to wait that long for a psychiatrist. I can't. All it's doing is making my throat hurt and rendering me incapable of breathing until I back off the thought. I can't live that long, through that. And my pediatrician is under the impression that I'm 'improving'. This because he spoke to me about completely non-mental health-related issues, as recently as OCTOBER, which was A MONTH AGO. A month is a LONG time. This is sabotaging my quest for help as well, because it's his opinion, and no others, that my parents are most willing to trust.
I Do Not Sleep. The idea of sleep is abhorrent to me. Sleep eludes me. The desire to sleep eludes me. The NEED for sleep, I'm painfully aware of. I'll be dead tired all day, then unable to sleep until...two, three in the morning or later, and it's been weeks or months since I've gone TO bed at any reasonable time. My outreach worker pointed out the stupidity and futility of lying in bed FORCING myself to suffer in the hope it'll lead me to sleep (which it doesn't). And I suffer whether or not I'm in bed, but at least now I'll suffer whilst NOT being bored.
Help? I need a hug...
You belong to me
My snow-white queen
There's nowhere to run, so let's just give it over
I'm
Losing my mind, and you just
Stand there and stare as my world divides.