This is what you do...

After I finished writing my last post I made the decision to harm myself. It was, what I thought, a very well thought out decision to get rid of the tension and anxiety in my mind, because it is my experience that self harming always does this. The act of self harming creates so much anxiety of its own, that it overrules the other anxiety that you feel and once you've self harmed, you feel such a release of stress and tension, that you actually feel a lot better.

I took care of the wound myself, having much experience in this now, and dressed it and put a bandage around my arm. Of course, it's like a white flag and everyone will see that I've done it again and that is not my purpose, that is just a not so pleasant side effect. It's better in the winter when I can wear long sleeves.

After all that, I did feel a lot of relief and for a while I felt better and I stayed up most of the night, being unable to go to sleep, and being unwilling too and I didn't go to bed until early in the morning where I crashed with my clothes on and I don't even remember falling asleep.

I woke up at 10:30 am from the phone ringing. It was my older sister who wondered why I was still in bed, so I told her I wasn't feeling good and that I did not have a reason why. We talked for a short time and then hung up and I laid on the sofa, petting the dog and trying to come up with a plan.

Then my younger sister called me and said that she had heard that I was not feeling well and that she was available for help. I told her that I needed a plan and that I didn't have one and together we decided that the best person to call would be my psychiatrist, because he knows the most about my medication.

And so I did. I left a message with the secretary and he called three minutes later. Unheard off! I explained the situation to him as well as I could and we brainstormed together about what would be best to do. After going over all the possibilities, we decided to temporarily increase the antipsychotic medication and if I really feel the need, I can take some more tranquillizers, but he hopes I won't. That's his least favorite option.

He also gave me some practical instructions on how to get through this period and that was helpful and made me feel better. It's nice to know that someone takes the time to care and gives you good advice. He emphasized that it was good that I called and that I could call anytime I felt the need or could in any way shed light on the situation.

Because I still felt the need to harm myself, I had called Eduard to come and take away the sharp objects. He got here at one pm and gathered them in a baggy and put them in his motorcycle jacket pocket. Now the temptation is gone and I won't be thinking about it anymore. I'm not crazy enough to go to the store and buy a new supply.

I took an antipsychotic tablet right after I talked to my psychiatrist and they usually work pretty quickly, but what I feel mostly now is the sedating effect of it, so I am pretty calm. That is a nice side effect.

Eduard is so sober minded about the whole thing. He listens, he looks and he says, "Well, in a couple of days you'll be as good as new." That's as excited as he gets about it and he is right, because he lived with me for a long time. He has seen many battle wounds and he knows I land on my feet again.

While he was here, he raised the seat of my bike and tilted it backward a bit, so I will be more comfortable riding it. He also reattached my headlight, which I didn't realize was undone. It was hanging by its wires. Silly me for not noticing that.

That's my story for right now, my confession. I was in doubt as to if I should tell you, but I can't leave out something that important.

Ciao...