Hannah Shucksmith

Oh yeah, I'm cool.

I had access to a TV for the first time in about 2 months and forgot to watch it. Goddam it.

I don't know if I'd call it a phobia but I can't watch anything in slow motion. I get the shakes and start to feel nauseas. I think it stems from nightmares I used to have as a child where a comet was coming towards me and I knew I was going to die but it was all going in super slow motion.

Just received word of a riot starting in Winchester tonight. Several police cars have just driven by. I live on the highstreet... Joy!

I mainly doodle to distract myself. Doesn't take much thought and it's pretty much impossible to make a mistake. It's rare I doodle a page all in one go anymore; I just carry my Moleskine everywhere. S'all good.

Taaaa bbz.

It's been a while since anyone posted in this topic and I don't like it. Contributing:

This. I'm secretly in love with charity shops as well.

Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows pt2 was bonerific.

This thread makes me hungry. I had a bowl of spinach and a protein shake. Pushing the boat out with my culinary skills, obviously...

Did it when riding Bookers once. Got 6 bottles of cherryade, 104 bags of Walkers crisps (in date!) and a massssive box of Mars Planets. Happy days.

6 people in total have died according to Channel 4 news...? Or did I mishear?

Heard about it on another forum. Interesting.

It just looks so wrong

Caaaan't stop listening. It makes me happy.

TL;DR: I'm screwed in the head. I asked in A&E, ICU and the acute unit I was on during the admission but no one seems to know who she is from my account given. I was stupid enough to not even ask her name when I saw her in the coffee shop. I think if I'm ever admitted again I'll try a lot harder to source her name, but as of now I'm making an effort to not return to A&E, even if it is only to find out who she is! My mood is constantly up and down. I'm not sure when you looked at my list of diagnoses (I'm presuming you've viewed them via my blog, though?) and I've had Bi-Polar Disorder slapped on my head since I last posted a link to aformentioned blog on here. All of the mental health practioners couldn't decide whether I was Borderline or Bi-Polar because I fit heavily into both diagnostic criterias. I exhibit all Bi-Polar symptoms, including the euphoria and severe depression, however I'm not in each state long enough for it to be considered Bi-Polar. They are convinced that unless I'm given the right help it will stem into full blown Bi-Polar. With my moods, I find myself either in an extremely low or extremely high state. I will self harm no matter what mood I'm in. It is noticable that I actually self harm when in a euphoric state than depressive state (I'll make note of why in a second). I can't put my finger on what diagnosis sways me towards the self harm but I'm fairly sure that it isn't the depression. When I'm in a state of exhibiting severe depressive emotions the thought or doing of self harm isn't really enough to make me cope. Instead, I just go from being 'normal' or euphoric to completely fleeting suicidal ideation. When I'm depressive I tend not to self harm because I actually just can't be bothered. I tend to literally lay in bed for around a week at a time and I won't get up for anything - not even to source a blade. I'll not eat, drink, piss. Nada. I literally lay there and stare at the ceiling thinking how nice it would be to cut away, but physically cannot find it in me to move out of bed. I do take note of how my self harm differs when I'm in different moods. If I do self harm when I'm depressive it tends to be more 'controlled'. I'll pick a place on my body, allow myself a certain number of cuts, I'll clean and sew or steri-strip adequately and bandage. I tend to do it maybe one or twice a day and I am more aware of the physical sensations that come with it. When I'm in a euphoric state I'm absolutely wild. I've been detained under the 136 act more times than I can remember. I have no idea what I'm doing. I honestly believe I'm Superman and I'll go around telling random persons in the street that I can fly. I'll stand on the edge of a multi-storey carpark and as far as I'm aware I could jump and survive. I've been known to tell people I can hear what they're thinking and am convinced of it. I run for miles and miles (I'm half-marathon training, go me!) and have no recollection of doing so until I wake up the next morning and my legs feel like jelly, my trainers still muddy and near the front door. Everything I do is very disordered when I'm euphoric, including my self harm. I can walk into the kitchen, reach for the nearest knife and cut cut cut until I physically cannot see where the deepest cuts are or I've hit an artery or vein. I slice away repeatedly and feel I cannot stop. I've often been bundled to the floor (in supermarkets, in the high street, at the hospital etc.) because I just don't know when enough is enough. I've contracted many infections when I self harm during a euphoric phase because I get a high out of sticking foreign objects in my arm and using dirtied blades etc. I also don't clean the wound properly when I'm euphoric and leave it gaping for a few hours or a day until I can find it in me to reach for my DSH kit. I'm never really in an 'okay' state of mind. I experience states of what I would consider to be numbness, and in those states I'm usually swaying more towards suicidal ideation than euphoria or wanting to self harm. I can't do anything when I'm numb in the way of feeling things. I can't cry, either. I just sit there with nothing in my head and I exhibit maladaptive behaviour in regards to how I should feel and think about things. For example, during my stay at Melbury Lodge one of the patients managed to hang herself in the shower room after being taken off of 1:1 observations. I remember hearing a blood-curdling scream and I poked my head around the door to see her hanging. I don't remember thinking "f**k! A dead body!" I didn't scream, didn't shake, didn't vomit. Just kinda thought "Oh, she's dead." I self harm for 3 reasons: 1) Punishment: If I've upset someone, if I've binged, if I just don't feel good enough etc. 2) To speak: I find myself unable to express how I feel. If my body is red raw, I'm usually red raw inside. 3) To bring happiness to an end: I don't feel as though I deserve to be happy. When I am happy, something bad will always follow. I self harm so that I can control the bad thing - the bad thing being self harm. I am therefore saving myself from worse things that I cannot control. I don't self harm so much now. It's been 5 days since I last caused an injury although I still have massive urges. When I was in hospital it reached a peak. I would wake up, reach for the blade and cut. I'd shower, cut in the shower, eat breakfast, sit in my room and cut, eat lunch, sit in my room and cut, eat dinner, sit in my room and cut, shower, cut in the shower, sit in my room and cut, sleep. Wake up, repeat. I kept my sharps in undiscoverable areas and I was room searched every other day. I was occassionally put on 2:1 observations (2 nurses within arms reach at all times) so I couldn't cut. I'd headbutt the wall and scratch my arms until they stuck a needle in my backside and knocked me out. For reference, my blog is still www.hannahcanhope.tumblr.com, I've updated my diagnoses recently. Sorry for the essay!

MY GOD.

This. It's a coping mechanism and a goddam horrible one at that. That's when the suicidal ideation kicks in; when the pain inside outweighs any coping mechinism including self harm. @Luke: out of curiosity do you believe anyone who self harms does it for attention? I can see why you'd think that, don't get me wrong, but surely anyone who self harms has something wrong inside their head. Even if they are doing to for attention, and the wanted attention is for someone to notice how much they hurt inside, and how much they're crying out for help and speaking through the self inflicted wounds?

Most are planned to some extent; I'll promise myself "I will cut 20 times if..." When it comes to sitting in freezing baths, they too are planned. I will run the bath whilst I go out to get the ice cubes and rationally-minded pour the ice into the bath ready to sit it. It's rare that I cry during an episode of self harm. I usually scratch at the skin or scars first and then remind myself that "of course self harm is going to hurt!" and "i deserve the pain" before making the first deep cut. I often give myself a deadline, almost, and I'll tell myself that if I can do or succeed in something before the hour is over, then I won't need to self harm. I often wake up and think "today is a self harm day", although I'm slowly managing to break free from this chain. Sorry if this makes no sense, ha! I've a bit too much to drink! Edit: Sorrrrryyyy, re-reading back your comment it's an everyday occurance. For breakfast, lunch and dinner I used to harm. It's been 5 days now since I last intentionally hurt.

I don't mind posting; I post everything on my blog as it is, and you follow that! After noticing how many people actually have or do self-harm, I'm going to put my ways in spoilers, as not to unintentionally trigger anyone. Oh, and whoever left the anonymous submission on my blog, thank you

I think you're right in the sense that perhaps the coping skills I'm learning were always in me and I just didn't know them, howerver I did attend an Emotional Coping Skills group for 4 weeks and found a massive improvement in my thought pattern and subsequent behaviour. I'm not really sure how much of the emotional coping skills were learnt or I already knew and just couldn't apply. The DBT is extremely helpful though, and I'd definitely recommend picking up a book on it. I'm fairly sure you can't be referred for DBT or CBT by your CMHT until you're 18 (correct me if I'm wrong!) which is a real shame. I'm sure Ben Rowlands won't mind me mentioning his recommendation for mindfulness; that's an amazing skill to have, particularly when you are in an incredible state of heightened emotion. Give it a Google if you're unsure! I might have a spare Emotional Coping Skills pack, come to think of it. I'll hunt for it on Saturday when I get back to the flat and send it up if I can find it. @Lewis: Yeah it's okay, I'm allowed to forget, I'm officially a nutter.

I did leave cards for the ward staff after my week long admission in Intensive Care so I'm hoping she may have read the card there. I wrote her a little message, and wonder if she actually knew it was her I was talking about. Thinking about it, maybe she was really my imagination - I was highly delusional! I think the chance of relapse is high, although I've been removed from all the situations that made my mental health take a turn for the worst i.e. Living at home, particular social groups, identified triggers, and I've gained coping skills through DBT, CBT and other more individualised therapies. In a way, I'm glad I'm alive. It obviously wasn't my time to die; if it was, I'd have done it. The wooden beam snapped when I tried to hang myself, I was wrestled to the ground by security guards at the multi-storey car park and I've never phoned 999 for myself after an OD; I've always been found out or I've confessed when the medication starts to kick in and I'm somewhere between concious and unconcious. I realise, for now, that there is point to my life and since I've been formally diagnosed I know which areas I really need to work on in order to progress. In short, I'm glad I didn't die. At the time of suicide I don't think I ever really wanted to die. I just needed to find an answer, a solution, a way from escaping such intense pain. Edit: P.S. Thanks Lewis. I still remember you calling me a Southern bitch on the phone. Pretty sure that was my 18th Birthday and I made you repeat it several times because I couldn't understand your Scottish wanker accent. x

Werd to that. The only medication that ever hits me is Mirtazapine or Olanzapine. Both cause me massive weight gain (I gained 9kg in 13 days on Mirtazpine with no change in diet!) and Olanzapine just knocks me out for 24 hours so they refuse to provide me with either. No other anti-depressant, anti-anxiety medication or neuroleptic has ever helped me. When I was first put on a course of medication I was seeing my GP every 3 days and within 2 weeks I was taking quadruple the starting dose because I wasn't even getting the side effects, e.g. nausea and drowsiness. Med's seem to work really well for some people, and not so well for others. Last time I did any research I found out that under a quarter of the total amount of Paracetamol I took should have killed me, and it didn't. I did once gain an emotional attachment with a female nurse in the Emergency department. I was put on 2:1 observations (2 nurses within arms reach at all times) because I was deemed such a high risk to myself; I thought I was superman and tried to throw myself off of a bridge an hour before hand. I went all depressive and started telling her "this is never going to go away, can't anyone see? I'm going to be like this forever." All I remember is her looking at me and seeing her eyes fill with tears. She walked out of the room soon after and another nurse had to replace her. I saw her when I was last admitted and she remembered me easily enough. I also saw her in the coffee shop within the hospital grounds and she asked me how I was doing. After small talk she told me that she found me in my room on the floor with the cannula torn out my arm and me choking on drug-induced vomit. Saved my life apparently. Never got her name; it's a shame because I'd love more than anything to send her a thank you card and a bunch of flowers.

Precisely. After my last suicide attempt, the first thing I remember after waking up when a nurse was changing over my empty Parvolex to a new bag, was her looking at me and just saying - "Had a bad day sweetheart?" I know she was only trying to make me feel better but I felt like shaking her and screaming "Every day is a bad day. I've not just woken up from a coma because burnt my toast and the only mail I got were bills!" I also despise how every nurse and doctor seems to presume that my DSH and suicidal ideation is linked to some form abuse. I can remember during my last admission to Winchester General, one nurse casually approached me and asked "Did you try to kill yourself because you've been abused, or what?" I can't begin to explain how shocked I was. General self harm seems to be ignored so much in A and E. The day before I was admitted to The Priory I was admitted to Winchester General following yet another OD and I took a blade with me. They do a mental health assessment following any overdose and for the entire time I sat there cutting my arms (not deep, I should note) with aformentioned blade. All the nurses saw me, I got blood all over the sheets and the assessment lasted an hour. There's no way that the nurses didn't see me cutting; I was sat there cross legged on the bed, singing twinkle twinkle little star to myself and just carving away at my lower arm. No one said anything though, no one asked if I'd like any sedating medication (it was on my notes that I could be given this at any time if requested or required.), no one even asked if I'd like a tissue to stem the bleeding. There's no doubt in my mind that they thought I was attention seeking and inflicting the injuries for reasons other than what I had tried to explain when asked about my DSH in general. I told them "I do it when I can't talk about how I feel." And that's why I was doing it, because they were firing such obtuse questions at me that I didn't know what to say and could only express how much I hurt through the cutting. The staff at every psychiactric unit I've been in have all been very patronising and fail to show any sort of empathy when I've been desperate enough to cut. I've often been found cutting when on high level observations and they just fetch you some saline and steri-strips and leave you to clean up and get on with things. I know that they're required to hand the responsibility over to us but I can't once remember being asked "are you okay?" or "once you've cleaned the cuts would you like someone to talk to?". I find people in general to be very scarily interested in my fresh cuts and scars. I was in the local newsagents a few weeks ago with the fresh wounds unbandaged. When I was being served the lady behind the counter just asked "Sunburn?" I actually stood there in silence for a minute before openly telling her "No, I cut myself. Do these cuts look like sunburn to you?" No doubt I'll edit this post when the wine's worn off and I remember I'm not Tumblring.