
AtomicNewt
A girl doesn't need anyone who doesn't need her
- Jun 5, 2019
- 145
Basically I've been having many of the symptoms, I'm 90% sure that I have irreversibly fucked my liver. Loss of appetite, ruined sleep, constantly exhausted, feeling nauesaeus - those I've all just had through mental illness - but the sporadic vomiting and aching right hand side are new and certainly point to a physical problem.
I'm unsure how I feel about this. On the one hand I've probably given myself an incurable terminal illness and ctb would become essential whatever mental state I'm in as the alternative is a slow, painful, embarrassing death. But people will just blame the booze for my death. It'll be so easy to say I was just a weak character and tut.
It's not that I want to ctb in order to spite people (although last time I left genuinely thinking I'd complete my plan it suddenly occurred to me how uncomfortable the few so called friends I'd tried to reach out to over last five years might feel and got brief buzz satisfaction. Call me bad, whatever. Obviously I gave up with people couple of years ago) it's just that the drinking has been a way of coping as well as self-destructing, and the MH problems truly caused the booze. Get so angry when people always suggest it's the other way round. For instance, I devolped crippling ptsd and 19 and was becoming increasingly dysfunctional, nightmares, insomnia, hallucinations, panic attacks etc... I did briefly try help but they really didn't seem to care or want to know. Even lost a job. Then I discovered drink. It allowed me to sleep, it numbed the pain and killed most the intrusive thoughts. Oh wow Dr's, you so should have just given me the benzos. Because what did heavy drinking do to me the next day? Give me the most savage panic attacks. Problematic. But then what did I discover? Having a few drinks stopped them dead! Would have thought it's very well documented that people with ptsd often become alcoholics, addicts and are prone to suicide. I can really see why.
The other reason I suppose was when I stated using it in a deliberately self-destructive way. Again, this was after trauma. Just after I turned 28 my best (only real) friend was killed in just about the worst way relating to my ptsd and, bang! Instantly re-triggered, just as I'd finally had a few peaceful years and was happy that my recovery was as good as it was going to get, certainly wasn't screwing with me. Again, the Dr's didn't want to know, despite me describing what should have been some highly alarming symptoms. This time the ptsd came with a wonderful variety of new symptoms, such as crippling social anxiety and agrophobia/claustrophobia. Excellent. All of for some strange reason has triggered off a massive bout of deep depression, which I've been prone to since about twelve and runs in my family big time. After a year of this decided I couldn't live as I was already dead, but that I would try to see early 40s for the sake of my poor babies. But I decided I wouldn't even care how much I drank, as now it truly was my only friend and I'd lost my hope and self-respect. And I'd be dead in just over a decade anyway. Looks like that's been certainly brought forward.
I no longer feel like an individual, parts of my personality have just been stripped off piece by piece, until I feel like just a giant collection of unpleasant competing MH conditions. I've realised that I'm never going to get better, I've tried. Everything just gets worse. The mental pain is shocking and constant, I'm too messed up to be able to work now, so really, what's the point in being here. Was trying to hold on for the sake of my little ones, but my existence is torture and now I likely have severe physical pain to add to this happy mix.
Wow, waffled on quite a bit, apologies to anyone that's made it this far! Just although I'll be dead, so technically shouldn't give a rats arse, it does bother me that all the people that honestly let me down, Dr's and friend's, through dismissing my symptoms out of hand will just be able to say, oh well, such a shame she was an uncontrolled alcoholic bum and totally wash their hands, without ever understanding that perhaps if they'd just LISTENED all those years ago and realised I was honestly in severe mental distress, my story might have been a less dark one...
I'm unsure how I feel about this. On the one hand I've probably given myself an incurable terminal illness and ctb would become essential whatever mental state I'm in as the alternative is a slow, painful, embarrassing death. But people will just blame the booze for my death. It'll be so easy to say I was just a weak character and tut.
It's not that I want to ctb in order to spite people (although last time I left genuinely thinking I'd complete my plan it suddenly occurred to me how uncomfortable the few so called friends I'd tried to reach out to over last five years might feel and got brief buzz satisfaction. Call me bad, whatever. Obviously I gave up with people couple of years ago) it's just that the drinking has been a way of coping as well as self-destructing, and the MH problems truly caused the booze. Get so angry when people always suggest it's the other way round. For instance, I devolped crippling ptsd and 19 and was becoming increasingly dysfunctional, nightmares, insomnia, hallucinations, panic attacks etc... I did briefly try help but they really didn't seem to care or want to know. Even lost a job. Then I discovered drink. It allowed me to sleep, it numbed the pain and killed most the intrusive thoughts. Oh wow Dr's, you so should have just given me the benzos. Because what did heavy drinking do to me the next day? Give me the most savage panic attacks. Problematic. But then what did I discover? Having a few drinks stopped them dead! Would have thought it's very well documented that people with ptsd often become alcoholics, addicts and are prone to suicide. I can really see why.
The other reason I suppose was when I stated using it in a deliberately self-destructive way. Again, this was after trauma. Just after I turned 28 my best (only real) friend was killed in just about the worst way relating to my ptsd and, bang! Instantly re-triggered, just as I'd finally had a few peaceful years and was happy that my recovery was as good as it was going to get, certainly wasn't screwing with me. Again, the Dr's didn't want to know, despite me describing what should have been some highly alarming symptoms. This time the ptsd came with a wonderful variety of new symptoms, such as crippling social anxiety and agrophobia/claustrophobia. Excellent. All of for some strange reason has triggered off a massive bout of deep depression, which I've been prone to since about twelve and runs in my family big time. After a year of this decided I couldn't live as I was already dead, but that I would try to see early 40s for the sake of my poor babies. But I decided I wouldn't even care how much I drank, as now it truly was my only friend and I'd lost my hope and self-respect. And I'd be dead in just over a decade anyway. Looks like that's been certainly brought forward.
I no longer feel like an individual, parts of my personality have just been stripped off piece by piece, until I feel like just a giant collection of unpleasant competing MH conditions. I've realised that I'm never going to get better, I've tried. Everything just gets worse. The mental pain is shocking and constant, I'm too messed up to be able to work now, so really, what's the point in being here. Was trying to hold on for the sake of my little ones, but my existence is torture and now I likely have severe physical pain to add to this happy mix.
Wow, waffled on quite a bit, apologies to anyone that's made it this far! Just although I'll be dead, so technically shouldn't give a rats arse, it does bother me that all the people that honestly let me down, Dr's and friend's, through dismissing my symptoms out of hand will just be able to say, oh well, such a shame she was an uncontrolled alcoholic bum and totally wash their hands, without ever understanding that perhaps if they'd just LISTENED all those years ago and realised I was honestly in severe mental distress, my story might have been a less dark one...
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