Mixed feelings

Trigger warning - suicidal ideation, self harm.

I had a bit of a crappy week. I was on my period, and it was really messing with my hormones. I was crying most days over nothing, and just couldn't function properly some of the days. I went to see the doctor, who actually listened to how I was feeling and what I wanted, and agreed to change me over to a new antidepressant - Sertraline.

I also got a text from Azariah saying that he wanted to see me! That made me so happy, and I was really excited about meeting up with him. We went for a meal and stayed there talking for three and a half hours, just enjoying each others' company, catching up, teasing, laughing, and generally having a good time. I really just wanted to kiss him, and I told him that. He said 'ok', so I asked what he meant - was it ok to kiss him? He said he wasn't sure, so I didn't, but he'd been really warm and friendly all evening - stroking me, holding my hand, and being silly just like we used to. Saying goodbye was horrible because all I wanted to do was kiss him. As soon as I got into my car I broke down into tears over what I'd lost and how much I missed him. I suddenly just didn't feel safe anymore, and didn't want to be alive.

Driving home all I could think about was where and how I could crash so that I'd kill myself but wouldn't hurt anyone else. Fortunately I was in residential areas so that wasn't possible. I got home, and did think about driving out to the motorway to get enough speed up to kill myself, but I managed to get out of the car and go inside.

I texted a friend asking for help, and she helped me to calm down and make myself a warm drink. I tried all sorts of things to stop the feelings of needing to hurt myself - I drew lines on my arm in red pen, I drank a comforting drink, I got ready for bed, but in the end the need to get rid of these feelings outweighed the ability to listen to my healthy mind. I put on sterile latex gloves, sterilised the area, and used a sterile scalpel so that there was no chance of infection. I only cut until I could see the blood, and then did some more cuts - all in nice neat lines, because it seemed important that my scars would be neat. I then cleaned up the blood, and bandaged the cuts up securely. After that everything was calm and my brain was quiet. There was finally peace. I watched a TV show on my laptop, drank a warm drink and went to sleep.

I haven't done this in a long time, and I don't think last night is reflective of my overall mental health. This only seems to happen when I've had contact with A. I hope that at some point we'll be able to enjoy each others' company without this being the after-effect on my mood, but I know that I'm still getting better, and I'm so much better than I was when all this started.

Oasis of recovery

So I've got to a bit of a sticking point in my recovery. I seem to be able to go about my normal daily stuff - work and eating  - without much problem. I have a 6-hour gap in the middle of my work day where, try as I might, I just can't motivate myself to do anything useful, despite having things I need to do. I tend to sit around watching things on my laptop until it's time for my next work shift.

Motivation aside, I'm not doing too badly. I'm seeing friends a couple of times a week, I'm starting some clubs again and getting back into old hobbies I'd forgotten about, and can generally distract myself from any unhelpful thoughts when I'm doing things.

The trouble is when I'm not doing things, it's less easy. It's still far better than things have been in the past - it's been a few weeks since I last wanted to self-harm, and the destructive thoughts have less of a hold on me when they do turn up.

A couple of weeks ago I went to a kink party where I played with a friend. It was quite intense, rough play and was just too much for me at the time. Immediately we finished I just wanted Azariah to hold me and look after me. I missed him with an intensity that felt like my heart was trying to burst through my ribcage. It's when I feel like this that any self-harming or suicidal thoughts are really hard to get rid of. And when I feel like this, I don't want the thoughts to go away. I don't want to get better, and I don't want to get over him, because that would be like admitting that things are over. Logically I know they are, but emotionally I'm still holding out hope that at some point he'll be better and we'll be able to get back together.

I feel like a lot of the time now I'm going through the motions of life, but my feelings don't really change all that much. Everything feels pretty much the same. I can find something amusing and laugh at it, but afterwards I still feel like all my emotions are on the same level.

My emotions are a desert. Occasionally I'll enter an oasis of happiness, pass a cactus of amusement, or walk up a dune of distraction. Sometimes I'll stay in an oasis for some time, but I always know that I'm surrounded by vast desert of blandness which is my perpetual feeling. As soon as that oasis of pleasant feelings is over, it's back to never-ending sand, and I just have to keep on walking until I find the next emotional landmark. It's not like I feel bad most of the time, or empty, I just... don't really experience feelings all that much. Being with friends can give me temporary relief from this, allowing me to sit with them in their little oasis of normal human feelings, although there are times when I'm surrounded with lovely people and am still stuck in the dessert. I can see their oasis, but I'm still outside it. I do my best to enter, and sometimes it works, but other times I'm stuck outside pretending to be a tree, and instead just looking like an idiot waving my arms in the air in an attempt to share in their feelings.