could be triggering (ED, SH, OD)

I've been avoiding blogging mainly because I don't have the energy, and also because I don't want to moan. I like having a positive spin at the end of my posts, but to be honest I'm finding it hard to see the silver lining at the minute. My last post is a fairly good example.

I feel completely dropped by the NHS. I have doctors appointments every two weeks, which is good, and my GP is great and has done all she can for me, but that seems to be very little. My mum has offered to pay for half for sessions with this therapist who has a few very cut rate places for people in need, so we can pay about a quarter of the price of a normal session between us (as in, I'm paying an eighth). I feel lucky to be offered this but incredibly, incredibly guilty. So guilty I don't know if I can go through with it. If I didn't feel so terrible and hopeless about the situation with the NHS counselling (I might be offered counselling with ED services in September) I wouldn't even be considering this. It doesn't seem fair on people who have even less money than me, or who haven't been able to find such a generous offer. I feel for everyone on the waiting list, especially because I truly believe everyone must be iller than me.

I am not beginning to believe that I might just be given up on. The NHS provides 25 (?) sessions max, and after that you rejoin the waiting list (which for me has been a year and a half). This situation is awful and it is terrifying, because for the first time I've felt like asking for help, as hard as it is, might not get me anywhere after all. I do want to get better. I'm fighting as hard as I can, but I can't do it alone; I've been trying for 7 years now and it's only getting harder.

I am really slipping. My ED symptoms are awful. My depression is so bad I haven't had a bath in over a month. That's disgusting, but I'm putting it out there to explain, because I don't have the words. I haven't brushed my hair in over a week. Getting up the energy to make a drink takes hours. My clothes get changed when necessary - generally once or twice a week, and I usually don't bother changing into pyjamas. I am trying to get out of the house every now and again, and I am achieving that actually. I've been to all of my useless appointments, been out to see a friend, been to Kate's a few times and to the bank, and I even went out one night without it being too much of a disaster - although I did end up self-harming, overdosing, drinking too much - compared to when I went out in Liverpool and was a total mess. I am actually going to work, and I can get through the day, although I'm making a lot of mistakes.

I am shakily on my feet and I am doing what I can. However, I am definitely existing, rather than living. I barely think my own thoughts. I can't concentrate. I have no desire to do anything. Feelings, especially positive ones, are few and far between. I feel like my brain is melting, much of the time.

I have my little 'recovery folder' with my list of reasons to stay ill, and reasons to get better. The fact I've made that list I think is a positive. I'm trying to hold onto these things, these moments where I feel something like motivation.