Happy 18th birthday to me.
So this birthday has been good and bad.
Bad first: got into an argument with my dad and it’s over the usual crap I have talked about so many times before so it was nothing new.
Presents: a Harley Quinn necklace from KE. EJ gave me a soft toy called Spot which is an alien with like 3 eyes, purple nail varnish, a fox necklace, an 18 badge and this nicely decorated box that she packed it all in. My two aunts gave a combined total of £75 in cheques which are yet to be cashed because my dad said he would do it but hasn’t. £40 from my older brother and £10 from my younger which combined enabled me to do this:
Yes, that is a tattoo. A permanent one. Happy birthday to me.
My brother also gave me a chocolate orange egg. My dad said he’d give me £100 and a piece of jewellery to commemorate this day, I have gotten neither and I haven’t gotten a reason as to why…
The thing about today is I went in with the lowest of expectations and still ended up disappointed. I love the star and snowflake. Iffy to the moon and hate the sun. But I hate the real life sun so..
(( I will delete any anti-tattoo comments i swear I am not in the mood so dont bother writing them))
Getting the tattoo was a massive hassle because I picked the worst place to get to geographically speaking but I found out where the tattoo place near me is and I will be going there from now on.
Anyway, enough birthday negativity. Let’s move onto real life things.
Where to start…
My quetiapine has been upped to 200mg and well I haven’t been on it very long due to skipping doses but it was because we’ve been moving and I needed to get up early and quetiapine just made me tired.
I got PIP (Personal Independence Payment) which is England’s replacement for Disability Allowance and it’s tacky to say how much but it is more than I feel comfortable with. Call it internalised ableism but I feel like I don’t deserve it because what can I do with it? I wouldn’t leave the house if I had my way but as it is I go out voluntarily twice a week and what? I pay for diesel which is like £10 max a week. I am grateful I got it but I don’t know what to do with it. Maybe it’s best to save it up because sooner or later I’ll be paying for my doctors and my meds and everything so best to keep it until then.
I still go to my group. I love girls group. Love it. I don’t know how they’ll react to my tattoo, I just hope they aren’t judgemental and think less of me. I mean I don’t hold it against them so much because they’re kids. I just hope. Voice group I’ve only been to 3 times since 1 time was cancelled, 1 time I was ill, 1 time very few people turned up and then two times we’ve actually be on properly we’ve been writing anti-bullying slogans on balloons which is fun but to what end? Anyway, that’s going okay.
I tried to get out my comfort zone and volunteer with a bigger purpose so I figured; mental health. I mean that is what I’m really passionate about and so I found a place which is geographically awkward but I went for an interview and basically what I was supposed to be interviewing for was training dogs as emotional companions and they made me fill in this form and explained to me the job and then they began booking me in for other things that were not that. They booked me in for fundraising and admin and accounts?! I said specifically I couldn’t do that and then they basically emotionally manipulated me into staying for an art session when I said that I couldn’t do Tuesday and Wednesday’s anyway (the interview was on a Tuesday) and then when I was in the art session, the guy running the class kept criticising me. You’re working with mentally ill people, a lot of whom would be sensitive to criticism and you talk like that to them?
I hadn’t even been there 5 minutes and I’ve being over-used and criticised so I decided that it wasn’t for me and emailed them and told them how I thought the way they behaved was out of order and would not like to work with them any longer which they ignored by the way and harassed me with phone calls and nasty voicemails. So much for that.
I mean after getting out of there I felt so bad and suicidal and honestly I was looking for a busy road to jump in front of a car… I probably would have reasoned that jumping in front of a car is the worst way to commit suicide because it’s not just you you’re hurting, you wrecking someone else’s life and car but I was crying and really did want to kill myself and whenever I get very suicidal I will mimicking slitting my wrists and it’s unconscious reaction but the fact I still get depressed and suicidal really brings this whole bull shit ‘recovery’ thing into question. I mean recovery for one person means something different to another but for my dad, the psychiatrist – pretty much everyone – deems I’m in recovery when I’m easier to get out of bed and when I’m not having manic episodes. That’s great… going to do anything about the depression?… no?… okay.
I guess for now I’m just going to keep everything how it is. As much as my dad loves to be in denial about it, I’m not doing well and the suicidal thoughts are back. Let’s just keep things on an even keel.