Day 3: One Day At A Time

I was absolutely bricking it yesterday, I had my first visit from the home base support team. The home base support team is a team of mental health practitioners working here in Manchester with the NHS, they’re a mid way point between going home after a suicide attempt and being hospitalised due to the risk you are to yourself and/or others. They work with people like me who fortunately are not a life threatening risk to ourselves or those around us, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me saying we are healthy and we are happy or that it is any easier. It isn’t. But it’s particularly good for people like me, they come round, they chat to you make a plan and the sucky bit, I had to be honest. 

 It’s never really been my strong suit honesty, I have a habit of saying the right thing at the right time to get my way, for example while I was in high school I pretending to be colour blind to the colour red for nearly a year because I didn’t copy what was written on the whiteboard (in red in case you couldn’t tell) and I didn’t want a detention. So yeah, me, a little pathological. But it’s fine, if I can concentrate and I’m genuinely trying it never comes out. Trust me people, I’m trying. 

  But anyway back to the visit, I’m starting to sense a routine when meeting mental health support after a disaster like I had. They ask you what happened, how you feel, any triggers, past trauma (if you’re comfortable which I think is sick because it’s hard to open up man, for everyone). Another thing to remember which I have to remind myself, your pain is valid! Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you’re allowed to feel bad at things others don’t, we deal with shit in different ways but doesn’t mean it’s wrong.

Then they ask you for troubling signs of major conditions, are you dangerous to yourself or others, do you hear voices and if so, new voices or familiar one, positive or negative, how often, do you have hallucinations, all that jazz. I’ve gotta say, I think it went well though! We put some pieces of a plan together and to be honest, I’m genuinely cautiously optimistic. Which is good but I know it’s not going to last, it never does. I make plan after plan after plan and I can never find the effort to see it through so maybe this time is different? I don’t know man.

We decided that they will keep in touch with me twice a week a visit to my home every Thursday and a phone call to check in on my progress on Sundays, they did give me the option of some more visits and calls but as it stands I don’t think I need that. Not because I’m cured or have some new devine power, but because I’ve got too little options left, I’m worried this is my last chance to try fix whatever it is that isn’t working. I’ve finally been convinced that it’s worth the effort, I’ll be gutted if this doesn’t work because like I said, I don’t think I have many options left. I know it sucks, you can prove give me a thousand options within an hour but the truth is, they aren’t an option for me.

For me personally, I’m not sure about other people who suffer, my only option has been death, the most suffering available for me the better. I’m serious, I get in fights just to get hurt, I punch walls not because I’m angry but because I need a physical point to put my pain otherwise I drown, I push people away so they can’t help me because I don’t think they’re able to help because you can’t un-crack an egg and somethings just don’t fix, I’d argue with my ex and want to run away not to start again but to finish it all.

All the time I’m getting these thoughts all I can think otherwise is how good an idea it is, remove myself from the world and it will be better off. Sorry about that, as I said yesterday I’m writing my thoughts and to be honest that’s how it is right now, rather bleak. But leads me onto my next part perfectly, I told some of these thoughts to the team, and (this may shock you) they think I have self esteem issues. I know right, didn’t see it coming either I won’t lie. After that we talked a little about sexual assault, I’m not sharing that part of my story yet. Thanks to that conversation however I might soon be able to start sharing my truth and moving forward as a person because I’ve now been referred to two types of therapy, talk therapy which is just basically a chit chat with an adult who tells you why you can’t handle most of your childhood. And survivor, another group based here in the 0161, another talk therapist charity group who specialise in helping men who have gone through sexual trauma, cracking.

 The only issue with these therapists is I have to wait to get going, the normal talk therapist is a 6 month wait, survivor is only a 3 week wait but I’m not too optimistic between then and now.

 Honestly, didn’t get alot done yesterday, but seen as this is about honesty and sharing the bad not just the good, I got something to talk about. So me and my ex still live together, we’re still very good friends and are here for each other as much as possible. Anyway, she’s been working at her new job for the last couple weeks now as a chef. She’s doing amazing and finally got to come home for a night last night, which was amazing but I almost ruined it. We went shopping at the local Asda, nothing even happened, we were just walking back, she was on a phone call and I was on my phone. The problem is that all of a sudden I was extremely overwhelmed, I felt threatened, I was terrified, I was looking side to side so much I couldn’t tell if the shadows were moving or my eyes just couldn’t focus. Sounds were too loud, colours too bright, everything about the outside world was against me, I’m sure of it. 

Thankfully I had enough sense to rush home to calm down, I took five minutes to myself and just tried controlling my breathing. I knew I was ok but I knew that I definitely wasn’t ok, and I know that sounds crazy but at the same time, does any of this make sense to anyone other than me? Basically, I knew I wasn’t hurt, but I really fucking thought I was getting murdered within 5 minutes. Which is cool I guess, gave me a major headache trying to decide if I wanted to die more or get murdered less. It was murdered less in case you’re wondering, wouldn’t be fair for someone doing prison time for killing me in my opinion. 

But that’s it, nothing much new nothing much changed but as always I’ve rambled outrageously. One last one for you, thank you. I’ve seen the support from you all and it’s breath taking, genuinely I’m lost for words. It’s unbelievable for me, it’s making my mind melt. You see when I’m in one of my upswings I’m so confident it’s unbelievable and I feel like I could be a proper writer with paper and everything (though not handwritten I’ve seen puppies without paws write better than me), but then in my downswing? In my downswing I’ll be so tempted to give up on writing I’ve destroyed many a notebook, wiped my notes, and your support makes this a little bit easier to write. Hopefully one of you can benefit from this even just a little, all I want. But that’s all I’ve got right now.

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