I’m almost too tired to blog. Today has been a rollercoaster.
Little man started preschool, we had a meeting with our health visitor and then to top it off we had a social services assessment with my new care co-ordinatior from the CMHT team in tow. Oh yes another new fecking care co-ordinator! I’d only met my latest one for the first time yesterday to then be immediately told, ‘oh you’ll have someone different from tomorrow.’ I nearly walked out the door right then..
I’ll never have them back, and I need to let them go, but oh my god, I miss L and C. The ladies who co-ordinated my care before we moved home to fix our lives. FFS Loopy, move on, it’s been more than a year!!
The lady from SS was lovely to be fair but jeepers it was quite in depth. She arrived and 3.30 and wasn’t gone til near 6.
Now we have the age old question to think about, by Monday. ‘What would help you?’
I don’t precisely know why, but I’m feeling better. I think my combo of meds is working. I think the good weather is uplifting and I think I’m gaining confidence with little man. I need now to wean off my zopiclone and diazepam but I’ve been doing it slowly since coming home from hospital. I’ve not self harmed in ages, and I’ve not been purging anywhere near as much as usual.
I’m just in a better place, and it feels good. I hope I can sustain this and have more good days
Now if I could only sort out my sleep. The meds combo is working during the day, but oh my word I’m having night terrors! and incredibly scratchy painful dry eyes.
One day at a time Loopy. You’ll read this saying alot as it is my new mantra.
I’ve chomped my nails, down to the stumps, I’ve binged and purged. I’ve burned and tonight for the first time since discharge, I want to knock myself out with zopiclone and diazepam, both of which I have in my possession (not loads)
I can’t explain it but a huge wave of sadness, hopelessness, self doubts and self destructive urges have hit me hard this evening…
I’ve been out on leave for the past 4 days, but today I was officially discharged. It’s weird, but this always comes with a little sadness on my part. I think you get so used to being wrapped in a 24/7 blanket of care, that leaving it makes you feel vulnerable and a little alone. The staff were generally great. They wouldn’t usually tolerate patients who behaved as I did. Any self harm over here gets you shipped immediately to a PICU, but covid stopped that, and they managed me as best they could. They even took my wardrobe, the actual furniture away.
I now have a clearer picture on what my priorities must be.
1. Get help for my PND. 2. Get help for my eating issues and drug use, although since leave I have reduced my zopiclone down to 7.5mg only. 3. Seek support or at least clarification regarding my BPD traits. 4 Learn to like myself again and accept my emotions in a more positive way.
You can only tackle these one at a time Loopy, but you can do it!!
I had little man all day, whilst Daddy went to work. Our first real time together since I’ve come out off hospital.
It was a difficult day, but also one I’m proud off. I shed some tears, almost called the ward for help, almost called granny to say I couldn’t cope, but then the emotional wave passed and I perserveered.
My conclusion though is that my main issue is 100% untreated postnatal depression and recovery from that needs to be my main focus.
The meds will not solve anything and the self esteem issues and self hatred will hopefully ease if I can just get the right help.
I hope little man had no idea. I hope I’m not damaging him. I hope he knows that i do Iove him and i hope I can beat this.
6 weeks on a psych ward and pretty much zero improvement. I’m out on leave until Tuesday and then I’ll be discharged.
Basically we all recognised that the stay was off no benefit, and without being allowed to burn, my use of ligatures just escalated.
So I’m back home, on a ridiculous regimen of meds, and little hope going forward. How do I get help here? How do I get better? How on earth will I cope when little man comes home from granny’s on Sunday.
I am happy to be back in my own bed though, with no restrictions and OH’s arms wrapped tightly around me.
I’ve been in hospital.now for just over 5 weeks, and I feel no better now than the day I came in. I’ve made no progress, learned nothing new about myself and I have no hope that I will ever live content.
COVID 19 hasn’t helped. No visitors, no occupational therapy, no on ward activities..nothing…
The ward sister has called me ridiculous very loudly and with venum in her tone on the few occasions that I’ve ligatured, and not once has she asked if I’m ok.
The nurses generally are nice, but limited in what they can do.
I do occasionally play with an old battered wilson (see pic), but the yard is tiny and the nurses don’t endure the noise for very long.
This stay isn’t like the others The levels of empathy and encourgment are much lower than my last two stays.