Monday, December 6, 2010

It happened like this........

     I am mentally ill not stupid. I would question that statement after the scare that I put my family and friends through a couple of weeks a go. I was doing really well at managing symptoms.  In fact I wasn't having any urges at all. I was focused on school and my new love of volunteering at the humane society.  Then one Wednesday night after school I was really depressed and was struggling with cutting urges.  Thursday I went and bought a blade, cut and went to the emergency room. The clinician just talked to me and sent me home.  Friday I got worse. I had thoughts of suicide.  I called the crisis line around 9:30PM told him what was going on and we made a contract for safety and that I would take my meds and go to bed.  I still didn't feel safe, so I called the on call clinician, she said the same thing and said "call her in the morning."  So I took my bed time meds and went to bed and woke up at 7:30AM Saturday.  I really don't know what motivated me to do what I did next, except that I was tired of having urges and didn't care if I lived or died. I went into the bathroom were my meds are kept and counted out 10 2mg Adivan and 5 2mg Lunesta and then down the hatch.  I then went and called the clinician like I was supposed. It was Brad. I said "Hi Brad this Kathi I took 10 Adivan and 5 Lunesta you might want to call 911" and hung up. At least that is what I think I said. Because I don't remember anything until I woke up at 8AM on Sunday.  I was in ICU with a one on one nurse.
     I was then transferred to the mental health unit.were I was treated by Dr Palmer. She is a okay Doc. I tried to explain to her I just wanted my head to shut up. She tried to explain to me that I am borderline. I only stayed Monday they let me out Tuesday. One thing that really bothered me though was they took me off one of my medications with out talking to me and wouldn't give me a reason. Luckily I had an appointment with my own Doc on Wednesday when I got out. I got back on it.
     Today I deal with the shame and guilt of going through this. What I put my family and friends through.  I still have these thoughts and urges. My therapist says to call bullshit on them they are just thoughts.  But I tell you they feel so real and overwhelming.  I have to continue looking at the things that I am grateful for.  Keep making goals that are obtainable. Keep my heart light and full of laughter.  I feel like I have a terminal illness.  I don't.  They are just thoughts I don't have to entertain them. I can choose which thoughts play with.  It just takes a lot of work, but nothing great comes easy. I know in my heart I want to live.

It Has Been Three Weeks

  November1  I haven't been admitted to the hospital in three weeks, nor have I gone to the emergency room. I did call the crisis line one night because I was having urges, but I talked to Patrick and worked through them.  Usually this time of year I am in the hospital.  I think that I have been so busy with school and volunteering that I haven't had the idle time when the urges can take over and become overwhelming. I have been managing school really well.  I do it in little chunks.  I make a list out on Monday evening of everything that I have to do and split it up over the week.  I make sure I finish at 8:30PM.  No more 3AM marathons. After 8:30PM I go play chess with my friend Robert who lives in the apartment complex.  I am getting better at playing.  In fact I actually can get him in check.  We have a lot of fun.
    Having fun I am finding out is very important in managing my urges.  I can't just do school.  My volunteer work at the humane society is a great outlet.  It is really stress-less.  There is no commitment on day or time.  I just call up the day before and say I am going to be there at 11AM.  The bus gets me there at 10:50AM.  I always play with the cats. It is up to me how long I want to stay.  Sometimes I stay for fifteen minutes, but there has been time when time has flew by and I stayed for a full hour.  I have a blast, especially with the kittens.  They are full of energy. They love feathers.  Attack and roll.  Then they crawl up my pant leg and purr in my ear.  There is usually six to attend to.  This is how I met Launa the kitten I have now.  I wanted a male kitten, but she is doing well at home.
     Launa is my stress release at home. She is very playful. She gets into everything.  Except she minds herp's andq's around the garbage which I am grateful for. Yesterday I heard her crying. I couldn't find her any where in the apartment.  I didn't realize she was outside in the hallway until I heard her scratching at the door.  That little booger.  She must of gone outside when i was doing laundry. She was sure happy when I opened the door.  Pretty smart kitten to know where home was.  I gave her lots of lovin.
     I am still not smoking. It has been three weeks. A lot has changed. I don't stink.  I have money in my pocket. I am breathing a lot better and I am starting to see myself as a nonsmoker.  If I can only start seeing myself as someone who doesn't self harm. I will be making progress. I guess if I was to ask myself "Do I want to cut today?" I would say "no." So maybe there is hope.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Mom and Dad Had Wierd T.V. Habits

     I come from a very hard working family. My Mom had many jobs from teacher, librarian, and real estate agent. Plus raising three daughters. My Dad was an agricultural economist. The number of jobs and types of jobs was numerous. He worked for the state of Hawaii doing experiments with papayas with one job when I was little. When I was older he was only home one month out of the year while he was in Egypt working on super farms. But one thing for sure when my folks were at home they were in their easy chairs in front of the T.V. watching their favorite television shows.
     In our house at 6PM everything had to be quiet like a mouse because the 6o'clock news was on. I can vividly remember my sisters and I when I was six years old laying on the king size bed that my sister Lisa and I shared.  We were giggling and laughing having a sweet time. Dad yelled "quiet the news is on." We giggled louder. He stomped into the bedroom screaming profanities and proceeded to smack my sister Lauri on the ass. Then came me. I closed my eyes. Smack! Then Lisa, oh poor Lisa, she got the worst of it. Smack! "Now! Damn it be quiet! Understand!" Dad stomped out of the room and went to his easy chair. So, from then on I learned not to bug Dad while he is watching T.V.
      Mom on the other hand didn't have the upper hand except when it came to Wheel of Fortune.  The whole world stopped for this show. Don't you dare stand in front of the T.V. or words that should not be heard would come out of my mothers mouth. One thing that I don't know if I am supposed to believe my parents or not. They believed that if you turned your T.V. off it would break. Something about turning your T.V. off and on repeatedly burns out the tube. So needless to say Mom and Dad had their television on 24/7. Funny thing is my Uncle who is a television repairman does the same thing and so does my older sister Lauri.  I turn mine off.
    I am trying to decide if I want cable. I just got a brand new 32 inch flat screen. I can be happy with just DVD's an VHS. There is so much in life to do then just watch T.V. and get all weird.

When I Was Six

     I was at kindergarten today and we were learning the hula.  We had grass skirt and everything. It was funny.  I felt really weird shaking my hips in the skirts.  After school we went swimmimng in the pool down the street. It is a really big pool with a diving boad and everything.  My sister Lauri who is 15 and my sister Lisa who I think is 11 went with me. Mom just dropped us off.  There were a lot of peope; Lauri said "I dare Kathi to jump off the high dive!"
      "I bet I can do it."
       "No you can't, you better not you are to litte you will get hurt." Lauri thinking twice about her dare.
        I was off to the high dive. It was about fifteen feet off the ground.  I don't know if I can do this?  I am a big kid! No Fear.  As I waited in line I was shaking; there were about six kid in front of me. They climbed up the ladder like they had done it before. They got to the top; they don't look scared; they just run and jump. I can do this.  It is my turn now. My hands were sweaty. My swim swuit was going up my butt; I pulled it out. I liked my pink stripped swim suit I thought I was pretty cute.
         As I climbed the stairs I realized I had an audience. People were watching me-a five year old girl on a high dive.  I could hear Lauri and Lisa cheer me on. I waved a princess wave. I looked out at the blue water as I made my way down the center of the diving board.  I could see the black stripes in the pool looking back at me.  My throat is dry. My knees were shaking. No Fear . I take in a deep breath and run for the edge and leap and I was in the air like a bird. I flew and then I hit the water like a rock. It stungs so bad I couldn't breath. I struggled for the service doing the dog paddle.  The only stroke I knew. The sun broke through the surface of the water.  When my head bobbed to the surface a gasped for air  and paddle my self to the edge where I was met with smiles and and cheers from Lauri and Lisa and new respect in the family ladder.

Hair Controversy

   I was at the pharmacist waiting for some meds the other day when we got tinto a conversation about my hair.  Lately my hair seems to be on the list of many topics of conversations.  You see there aren't vert many middle age, overweight, white women that run around with a Mohawk on their head.  The pharmacist just couldn't phathom me shaving my head when he has spent most of his life using Rogaine to keep hair on his head.  I was in my substanabuse counselor's office the other day and one of the counselors confronted me with "Okay Kathi what's up with the dew. What it really going on?"
    "There isn't anything going on I just like the Mohawk, give me a break."  But I kept thinking about it. Why do I have a Mohawk? 1. It is easy to care for. 2.When I was sixteen I wanted one and the closet I got was a bob cut. I hated it. 3. For someone who is 45yrs old and has been told by the doctors that they will never work again. Fuck it cut away. I finally don't have to worry about who the hell cares what I look like. I know people giggle and out right laugh behind my back. That is okay laughter is good for the soul and you know what I am crazy. I am legally crazy that is why I get the big bucks on SSI. Real Big bucks like $226.00.
      Hair is hair. It is definitely over rated. Ask any cancer patient. My Mohawk is a statement of my personal freedom.  It also is a great boundry setter for me.  If you don't like me because of my hair then you have deeper issues that I don't want to get to know about.  It is like having a different skin color. So my hair is my issue.   I love my Mohawk. I wear it proudly.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

I Got a Kitty

      I had put my name in to adopt a male kitten named Ezra at the Gastineau Humane Society.  When I went there to do my weekly volunteering, I inquired about where I stood on the adoption process.  Sandra informed me that they had found Ezra a home with another family, but that there was another kitten available if I was interested.  She took me back to the kitten room and pointed out a female Siamese kitten that had been mixed with some other domesticated cat.  I saw her and said "sure I'll take her. What is her name?"
     "Petral."  Sandra replied.
      That will have to change I thought to myself.  I went in the room and picked her up; she didn't even try to wiggle away she just started to purr and nuzzle up to my cheek.  She was an older kitten. "how old she is?" I asked.
       "Five months; she has been spade and has her first round of shot." I was informed
        Petral wiggeled out of my arms and went and drank some water.  I stepped over the kitty gate washed my feet in the kitty foot bath and used hand sanitizer.  Then Sandra and I made arrangements for the adoption.  We deicided we would meet back at 4:00PM; it was now 11:00AM. I was excited.
        I had a dilemma. I didn't have the seventy dollars for the adoption fees or the five dollars for the kitty cat box to carry her home in on the bus. Luckily I have a good friend Ruth  who just happened to be with me today and who also had just gotten paid.  She said she lend me the money until next week when I get I paid. It was a God day. Because I went shopping that afternoon with George my case manager and had enough money to by the kitty essentials; a litter box, cat liter, kitten chow, and a water bowl.By the time we were done shopping I met back with Ruth and we went to GHS to meet with Sandra to finalize the adoption
       I filled out paper work and went over the adoption contract. The kitten has another set of shots on the 16th of  November that will cost me $20.00.  We finished the paper work and she gave me a packet of stuff along with a kitten dvd and a container of dewormer goop for the kitten. Then I gave her $75.00 and went out into the lobby and waited for the kitten.  While Ruth and I were sitting there we were looking at cat toys and there it was a fluffy purple mouse with a bell on the end of a string connected to a pole. I had to have it. I was purple; it would match my purple chair.  Ruth bought it for me and said " you owe $80.00."
       "Okay I promise" I crossed my heart.
        A young lady with long brown hair and a smile carrying a cardboard pet carrier with a howling kitten in it came out from the back room."here is Petral; she is ready to go home."
       "Thanks,Ill take good care of her. See ya."
        Petral instantly became a bus kitty. She did very was one of the worst storms of the month. She meowed a little and was relieved when I let her out of the box at Ruth's house while I stopped to get something to eat.  She was very curios. Scoped the whole apartment and kept a eye on the bedroom door where Ruth's cats were hiding.  At 5:13PM we to catch the bus.  We caught it to Breeze In where I got off to get some smokes.  It was raining buckets.  I was soaked and so was Petral's box.  Finally we got on the bus towards home.  When we got of the bus we treaded down the hill and stairs to my apartment. I opened the door and set Petra down.  I took off my wet coat, dropped off my back pack, and took the ktity liter pan into my bedroom closet  and filled it with two inches of kitty liter. Then I got her food and water and put it in my bedroom.  My intent was that my bedroom was going to be the kitty's new home while she adjust to the apartment. It was one of Sandra's suggestions. Anyway I went back to pick up the kitten in the box and as I did she fell out of the bottom. I was in shock. What would of happened if it had happened out on the streets. It is a God thing that it happened at home. Well, she is here; now all I have to do is come up with a name.

Monday, October 4, 2010

Ready for Change

        What four dollars can do to my head space.  I went shopping with my case manager George like I do every week and I had twenty four dollars left in change just enough to by three packs of cigarettes and have four dollars left in change. That was on Wednesday. By Thursday I was spinning out of control. All I could think of was buying blades.  I kept thinking of the bus I was going to take. What store I was going to go to. What isle the blades where in. What register I was going to buy them at and how much I was going to spend. I am a sociopath when it comes to cutting.  It was driving me crazy so I called George. He said bring the money into his office. I said what are you crazy it is only four bucks. He asked "How many packages of blades is it."
        "Okay I get the point ,but I still am not bringing the money in." I had made my mind up.
         "All right but I don't want to here from you from the unit" George said non jokingly.
         "I am all right." I reassured him.
         Well any way I kept the money. At least all morning.By afternoon it bugged me enough to take the money to George. I really don't want to buy blades. I really want to stop this shit. When I was in the hospital last week they printed out all of the hospital stays that I have had since 1998. I have over 75 hospitals stays and I didn't count the ER visits.
          My whole identy is wrapped around cutting it is sick. I have to create a knew me. For starts I am a writer and a painter. A sister and a friend. I volunteer and play games. I am compassionate and sincere.  I am passionate and love life.  I want to change. It is hard when I am bombarded with thoughts of harming myself. I know I have to battle it with positive thoughts. A positive thought and a negative thought can not exists in the same place.  Positive out ways the negative. I don't have to see my self as a cutter. I am in the process of change. Letting go of the old me. Allowing the new me to blossom.  I don't know what to expect, but everyday I don't cut I grow.  Some days are a real struggle. I am getting ready to quit smoking too. Well see how that goes. I have faith that I can do both. I have a strong support network. I also believe my higher power is with me. So,I guess I feel I am ready for change.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Life's Drama of a Slasher

       Well I couldn't make it another week.  I feel like a failure. I went to True Value and bought a blade. The cashier was some old guy that made a comment of something like "You going to add this blade to your collection?"  I wanted to say you fucking smart ass but I just hung my head in shame and quickly walked out of the store before I saw anyone I new.  It was a bad day.  I didn't go to class.  Instead I went home and cut  my arms and nicked my throat and then called my case manager. I told him I cut and couldn't throw away the blade. He called the cops. They were at my door within fifteen minutes. They wanted me to go to the hospital with them, but I wouldn't go.  They had me call George my case manager and George said I didn't have to go if I gave up the blade. So I laid the blade on the coffee table and the cop picked up with his rubber gloves and held on to it like I had a disease. George asked me if I was going to be safe. I couldn't answer.  Something in me wanted to be up on the unit.  I didn't feel safe in my own skin. I told George this and he said then get a ride from the cops to the hospital.
        At the hospital it seemed like for ever before the clinician got there to talk to me. It was Lee I really don't care for him, but at least this time he listened to me.  He got me on the unit, which was a big mistake on my part. It was about 9pm when I got upstairs on the third floor.  I was ready for bed. I was in room 8 which was right across from the nurses station. The mhu aid Josie got me two blankets and then Holly the nurse came in and talked to me about what was going on. I told her about my day. She asked if I was suicidal and I said if I realy thought about it I could think my way into it.  I have been on the unit a lot like 70 time since 1998. I bang my head when I am on the unit. Holly told me that the Doctor said if I banged my head at all I would be exparted. Fine I went to bed, but Holly first brought me my meds.  She tried to give me Cymbalta and Respirdal instead of my regular meds  she said that's what the doctor ordered.  I was irate.
        Morning came and the nurse tried to give me the same meds and not my diabetic meds. When I met with the phsychiatrist I told her that I didn't want her to change my meds. Antidepressant like Cymbalta make me manic and Respirdal makes me gain weight. Leave my meds alone. She asked me what she can do for me.  I told her I just needed a save place to gather my thoughts.We left it at that. Except later on she wanted me to think of the patterns of why I come into the hospital. I decided that I needed to go home. I had to much to do to sit in the hospital. I asked Mike the nurse if I could go home he said no problem I'll go to bat for you. So before I new it the Doc was talking to me in the hall. She said "I just finished your admissions and you want to go home."
         "Are you suicidal" the doc asks.
         "No" I reply
         "And you don't feel like buying blades or cutting"
         "Not at all"
         "Then your ready to go"she say's with authority.
         "Thanks"  I smile.
          After lunch the Mhu aid brings my belongings. We went through  them and I signed off on the sheet. Before long I left not even saying goodbye. I was escorted out of the hospital by  one of the Mhu aids that I have known for many years. I went to get on the bus. It was  a total waist of two days.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Straight edge blade junky

It hasn't been a week and I relapsed. Last Thursday night I cut and called the on call clinician.  It was my case manager. He called the cops on me to escort me to the hospital were he and I talked. More like I got a lecture when was I going to quit. He wanted to exparte me but the hospital was full and he really didn't want to do the paper work to send me to API. I was just a pain in his ass.  He sent me home with a promise I wouldn't cut and that I would call in the morning. I did what I was told but the urges were still strong. Friday night my friend was concerned about me and wanted to make sure I stayed out of the hospital. She is my codependent friend. She had me stay the night with her and then all day Saturday until the slam.  The Voices of Recovery Poetry Slam went really well and I had a grand time. I tied for third place.Winnining $50.00 . With money in my pocket my urges got stronger.  All I could think about was when I could by blades.  I am sick in the head.  Today is Tuesday and I am still planning.  Rationally I know it is not a good idea.  I have to schedule my day around so I don't go to stores by myself.  I have to give my money to my case manager because I am not safe. It sounds silly. But if I have any money on me I am going to my blades and cut. I am like an out of control alcoholic. I really want to stop this shit. I wrote about it in the following poem that I read at the slam.

Five Years Clean and Sober
I am really not emotionally clean
I have a new addiction to love
I am an emotional wreck,
a suicidal dreamer,
an emergency room junky,
and I have a secret to tell.

I am scared to tell,
because I do it and I am clean.
I feel like a junky
It is real dreamy
I am in love.
My life's wrecked

like a shipwreck.
My scars tell
about this dream.
I am really not spiritually clean.
I am addicted to this love
like a lost junky.

I am a straight edge blade junky.
My body a scarred wreck.
I caress the blade like a lover.
There I told.
I want to be clean
and not be a dreamer.

I don't want to dream,
my life away like a junky.
It is going to take a lot of cleaning
to fix this wreckage.
It will be my past to tell
and only a dream.

I will no longer live this dream.
I will have self love.
This I can tell.
I can give up being a straight edge blade junky
because, my higher power is on my side of this wreckage.
Today, I can be cleansed.

I want a new love and to create a new dream.
I don't want to live a life of a junky and be a wreck.
I am telling you I want to live clean.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Welome to Slasher's Secret Hiding Place

This place is a shelter for those who are alone in the middle of the night and are thinking of harming themselves. I know what it is like when those thoughts don't stop. They just keep going round and round in your head you want to cut, you want to hurt your self in some way even though you know your not supposed to because people tell you that they love you. I know what it is like because I am a cutter and everyday I struggle to stay clean from it. I write, paint, draw, do bead work, exercise, play chess and have a social life. I don't work because it has me so disabled. Maybe together we can stop this shit. We don't have to hurt ourselves we are beautiful people. I have a week clean. We don't have to live the dramas of the er and psyche units.  We can choose to be productive people. Sometimes I don't believe this, but I have to it is my only hope. Life is precious like a child and as a cutter I abuse it and ride on death edge just for the fun of it. It is crazy making. I hope with this site to share with you the positive things  that I am doing in my life that are keeping me in a healthy  frame of mind.

My Daily Maintenance Program
things I have to do everyday
*Sleep 9hrs
*Eat six small meals
*drink 8oz h2o
*Take my meds
*check my blood sugar (  I am diabetic)
*do an hour of art a day
*do an 1/2 hour of exercise a day
*talk to five friends
*go outside for 1/2 hour
*clean house/dishes

Things I need to weekly

*talk to therapists
*clean house
*art group