I’ve just had a gym session. You have no idea how much better I feel after the gym. The problem is getting the motivation to go. Because I complained a little about the lack of facilities, a lady now comes over from time to time to allow me to use our gym and that at the moment is enough motivation to make me go. I’m not particularly fit by any means but when I wasn’t in this hospital I walked about 1.5 hours every day (part of work commute) and would cycle 45 mins in the evenings (2-3 a week) when OH was at home to mind little man.
So going from that to nothing was a bit hellish in here. That’s were Wilson became my saviour, and now the gym has just boosted things a little.
Out of 10; right now my mood is about 5. The highest it’s been in the past few days.
For anyone following, first of all thank you. 50 posts now but I’m still on my journey to find that elusive satisfaction with life, that will stop me wanting to end it. Just to be clear, I don’t want material things, I just want to stop hating myself.
I am now on Queitipine twice a day on top of my usual mirtazapine and twice daily diazepam. The Quieitipine should be a mood stabilizer and I am finding that yes it does indeed stabilize ones mood. The problem is that it appears to have done so at my lowest end of the spectrum. I’m feeling very low today. Missed breakfast and only just got up in time for lunch being served. I tried on like 3 T-shirts when I got up, but they were too tight. The ugly person staring back at me in the mirror, discouraged me from eating much.
I also sat in my room for a bit before leaving it for lunch breathing into a Maoam sweets plastic bag to see if I could pass out, well not quite pass out but start to feel hypoxic. I couldn’t get a tight enough seal around my face. I need a bigger bag.
I barely slept last night, maybe that’s why I’m being odd today.
I think I mentioned this in a previous post but I have shared the address for this blog with one of our excellent nurses. Since sharing it, I’d been feeling really awkward around her and I managed to tell her that today. She was lovely, and I needn’t have feared anything. Though I’m still not sure if she has read any of this or not.
We had quite a nice conversation and I managed to tell her how suicidal I am really feeling, and the method I’ve been using to burn.. l think I might pluck up the courage to talk to her more. Once she left I took out my frustration on Wilson and smacked him of the wall for about an hour I reckon.
The frustration by the way stemmed from a PTSD trigger in a relaxation session that was a little unexpected. Telling me to imagine calmly drifting out to sea, brought up some stuff, but the poor staff member wasn’t to know.
Tonight I’m both mentally and psychically tired. Hopefully I will sleep sound.
Self harming is an odd behaviour, lets be honest, although having said that people do it all the time. Smoking, drinking alcohol, eating processed foods, using sun beds, living in cities full of smog and exhaust fumes; the list goes on. Yet those behaviours are accepted by society. For me I struggle to understand why I burn myself. There are a couple of obvious reasons; it calms me down when I’m feeling suicidal, it makes me feel better when I can’t cry, it feels good when there’s pain and it feels good both picking at and taking care of the wounds after. Weird right?
It can also make me feel like a failure when I can’t do it right. if the heat is not held on until I no longer feel the pain then I feel like a failure. if it doesn’t blister properly or char the skin then it’s not adequate. I’m struggling without my usual means. I’ve burned today, several times; little burns in the same spot, but it’s not quite producing the calming endorphins that it usually would. I’m not stupid. This is not healthy.
Again I’m feeling odd today. Totally apathetic towards life.
I’ve mentioned in previous posts that some of my “temporary friends” have now been discharged. The beds they vacated have off course been immediately filled. But I’m starting to realise there is a real problem in the system as many of the new ladies are familiar faces to each other or the staff from previous admissions to various hospitals. They seem to wear these episodes like badges of honour. I listen to them bragging to each other about what they did and how they got sectioned for the 4th time. I spoke about this very topic with my friend yesterday. She works in mental health as a solicitor, and agreed with me that the system is broken. There are truly tragic stories of genuinely ill patients that end up dead due to a lack of resources in and overstretched system.
I hate to say this because it sounds cruel but some patients are here for the attention. That does not in anyway make you less in need of treatment, I would argue that itself is an illness but it puts a huge strain on the system. It also worries me that everyone I’ve chatted with has been in somewhere before. Is that going to be my future? Surely there could be better community support? I wonder if we had to pay for our NHS care (even small amounts) would there be less Munchausen’s syndrome type behaviours in the mental health system.
I’m ashamed of being in here. I shouldn’t be. I know that mental illness is as real as anything physical, but still my up bringing, and family perceptions of mental ill health leaves me with a sense of shame.
Once I’m out, I never intend to come back.
I’m seriously on the brink of smashing a window, or chucking furntiture about. It’s seems to be the only way to get staff to talk to you in here. They make the promises of leave and then off course someone kicks off, gets all thier attention and you’re left to wallow alone.
I feel so fucking alone. I want out, just for a walk by myself to clear my head, just to get away from the mumblings, the constant belching of other patients and the chaos. I’ve had a video sent to me off my son at home with Granny C and it’s upset me. I’m feeling so useless as a mother.
But as usual when I knock on the office door, I get ignored. They don’t even look up from their computer screens, I knock again and yup still ignored………… I’m not the type to shout or get angry at them, but it may have to start.
My head is absolutely racing and I want to burn. I just need space, 15 minutes of space……..
Nearly everyone drags their feet in here. It’s a personal bug bear of mine but today I caught myself doing it. It must be the drugs. Around 3pm today my body crashed, and I fell asleep, like I’d been hit with a horse tranquliser!! At 5 I heard a voice through my bedroom door “Dinner’s here if you’re having any”. It startled me slighlty. I had no intention of sleeping.
As I suantered over to the dining room, there it was; the sound of my feet scuffing the floor.
I then recieved a whatsapp message with a photo of little man eating today. You think it would have raised my spirits but it hasn’t. I’m feeling low right now, very low, want to order zopiclone low. But what is it that they say; “This, too, shall pass”
D’s kicking off, throwing cereal boxes around and rambling!, E’s cleaning up clattering the sugar pot lid and smashing fridge shelves about. E’s playing her radio. R comes in and starts playing music on her phone. Staff are chattering and the cleaner arrives with the floor buffer. I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!!!!!!! It’s too much noise…Nails on a blackboard again!!!!!……………………………… I need to get away……………..