My psychiatrist recognised how distressed I was on Tuesday (19th November) and promptly increased my doses (300mg Quetiapine up to 600mg and 1000mg Depakote upto 1500mg, plus PRN of <100mg Quetiapine and <10mg diazepam) as long as my boyfriend was holding on to them. I admitted to feeling suicidal because everything was like a spiraling vortex in my head. I could not cope with it anymore. I saw him again Thursday (21st November) having slept through most of Wednesday, thanks to the sedation of the increased medication. At both appointments he mentioned the possibility of going into hospital.
Today I feel much calmer, but the thought of suicide never leaves me. I cannot cut myself, as I have a residual fear that there is a parasite inside me…destroying me and trying to control me both physically and by putting thoughts in my head. If I was to cut myself it would allow the parasite to escape-and maybe hurt someone else. I need to trap it in my body as I die.
My thoughts have slowed down, but they are repetitive and intrusive. Some of them are very odd. I take 100mg of Quetiapine every couple of hours at the moment to deal with it. I feel so drowsy and sedated all the time but it is a case of the lesser of two evils.
Any longer than an hour or two apart and I start to see things move and/or shoot past me. I see, hear and feel things that have meanings. For example I notice the way a sign post causes a particular (and apparently significant) shadow. Or the company logo on a van. Or how certain songs are played on the radio. Something in me tells me that these things are important. As if there is a hidden message in them. If it is a message it begs the questions of who, what, how, and why?
Rational me tries to point out that there is no message, but I cannot believe rational me. I am terrified that if I do not work out the message, then maybe something awful will happen. I cannot solve the message if I struggle to see/hear/feel it. The Quetiapine muffles my ability to stay awake let alone think. But it also helps me to stay calm and feel slightly less suicidal.
I desperately want to believe it is all in my head. But I just cannot force myself to. I feel constantly on edge as a result.
Between medication and my mind running wild, like a stampeding elephant, I am struggling with basic life skills. If I am not going out, I stay in my pyjamas. If I need to go out, it is what ever is at hand. Yet even putting my clothes on has proven difficult, for example forgetting to put my bra on before my top and jumper.
The biggest one is I keep forgetting to eat or drink. With taking so much medication, I am drinking enough as I wash the tablets down, when my boyfriend reminds me to take my medication. I normally love my food, but I am struggling with my appetite. It gets to 7pm and I realise I haven’t eaten anything, all day, but only because my stomach hurts. I know I’m hungry and I know to change this, I need to eat. But that is as far as my train of thought manages. Food names become just words, words with no meaning. I end up snacking on bits and bobs or my boyfriend has to chose.
My life is a “choice” of (quasi-) “paranoid delusions” or “incomprehensible sedation.” Even writing my blog takes forever, as I desperately try to keep my eyes open or keep going when my mind keeps switching. It’s like someone channel hopping through television or radio stations. They hear snippets from here and there and just as they focus on a particular channel someone changes it again. It makes it difficult to write, think or even talk coherently when you forget words and what you’re saying in the middle of every sentence. For some reason, my memory is awful. I can barely remember what has been (or is being) seen, said or done from one minute to the next, nevermind worrying about tomorrow. Therefore, talk of the future, or hope, is difficult and pointless.
I feel like I’m on the edge of wanting to die. If it happened, I would welcome it. At the moment I won’t act on it. But the feelings and urges are getting stronger. There’s only so long anything will last against a bombardment.
I don’t feel safe.
Whereas I am still unnerved by the Being/Force etc potentially being real and in my house, I’m also anxious It’s inside me. Either way I’m worried that I won’t be able to control it and somehow I end up hurting/killing myself.