It's the early hours of the morning and, yet again, I can't sleep. I haven't slept properly since just before my hospital admission in the middle of January. I am chronically sleep deprived, utterly exhausted, but getting to sleep is a real problem. Even once I do eventually get to sleep I dream of violent and upsetting things, or have dreams based upon the realities of what happened during my last admission. No sleep is restful and I am so tired that I feel as though my brain is melting.
The whole sleep thing is doing nothing to help my mental health in general, and it's most likely making things worse. I'm doing all that I can to help myself - doing all that's asked of me and suggested to me by the professionals and helpful friends - but the extreme tiredness is crippling and inhibits any success those things may have.
In the past week I've also been finding things more difficult because the supportive input has been cut back. The crisis team (CATT) said they thought it was the right time for me to be moved on and have my care transferred to the Community Mental Health Team (CMHT) as they can provide more long-term support. The problem with this for me, though, is that CATT were coming to see me at least every other day, but the CMHT can only come a maximum of once a week, and I feel like I still need more input than that.
I was appointed a Community Psychiatric Nurse (CPN) from the CMHT, and on Wednesday last week I had a joint meeting with her and a member of CATT who'd seen me quite a lot during my time on their caseload. It went okay, I guess, but it's going to take time to get to know my CPN, how she works, and what she can do with/for me. She came again on Monday, and to be honest I didn't feel like it was very helpful. I was feeling distracted by the chaos in my flat caused by the arrival of my new cooker at the weekend, which was sitting in the living room until it could be installed later in the week. I couldn't think. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't work out my feelings. The phone kept ringing with junk callers, and although I let the answer machine take the calls, I still felt distracted. In fact, it all felt rather disorienting, even though I was in my own home. I couldn't connect either with the CPN or with myself, and it didn't help that my lungs were being really twitchy too.
We made another appointment for her to visit me, but that won't be until Wednesday next week. That's nine days between appointments, which is an almost incomprehensible length of time for me at the moment, and so very different from the two days (at most) between appointments I've been having with CATT. I've been told that I can still call the CATT helpline number if I need to, and I have done once, but seeing as I'm not really under CATT's care any more it feels like I'm breaking the rules ... even though I'm not. Yes, this is something only I can change, but it's not easy. Nothing is easy at the moment.
You know, the other thing that I'm finding difficult about all of this is the simple thing of me needing to have this referral to the CMHT, and to be needing a CPN again. I'm disappointed in myself, hugely disappointed. Depression had been an awful part of my past that I'd moved away from. I'd got my antidepressant dose down to the bare minimum. I'd had very little contact with any of the mental health services for a number of years, and last year had finally been discharged by the psychiatrist. I had two months short of ten years of freedom from depression, despite increasing difficulties with my physical health. I studied hard and got two degrees, writing the majority of my essays for those degrees in hospital, sometimes in my head while I was fighting for life in intensive care (distraction from the horrendous things happening to me). Suddenly I've ended up back in the midst of depression. I've had input from the crisis team, and now I have a CPN again, and a re-referral to the psychiatrist.
This is not what I want! This is not who I am supposed to be any more! I'm so angry at myself for ending up back in this place and needing these people and services! I had opted for life, but now it feels like all life has been sapped from me again, and I'm so cross that I've let myself fall back so very far, and worst of all is that I don't know how to get out of this.
Many have said, 'You've come through it before, so you can come through it again.' That's not helpful. It's really not helpful. Last time I 'got through it' because I had a miraculous healing from God at 4pm on Monday 5th May. My healing wasn't anything to do with me, or medication, or circumstances, or psychology, or psychiatry, or anything else. The healing was from God and was instantaneous. I'm not a fool and I know that not only can I not expect this to happen again, but it is incredibly unlikely to happen again. The chances of it happening even once are minuscule, let alone twice. I have no experience of coming out of depression in any other way, and as it was nothing that I did then I don't know how to get to that point. I don't know how to get well, and that scares me. And I feel so guilty because I feel as though God gave me that amazing gift of my miracle moment and I can't have looked after it well enough because here I am back in depression. I've let God down. I've let everyone down, myself included, but I am ashamed to have let God down.