The doc in here is too black and white. “You need a plan loopy” “you need to quit something”
He’s not seeing “me”. I’m so much more than just an over tired working mum. I’m a self loathing mess, crippled with self hatred and self doubts. I have a complex past that has shaped who I am today. I am not black and white I am different shades of grey.. only grey.
They’re all dying to discharge me. They can’t see what I and my CPN can see, I need more help. I need to be moved to the ward with the clock. They had more empathy, more compassion and gave more of themselves to understanding “me”
Having said that, I’m being unfair. The staff do try but I’m not comfortable enough yet to open up.
I need to ligature. If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out.
I hung up on her. It was so cruel of me. I wasn’t thinking straight. I was done. I’d tested the cord, until my head thumped, and then i released.
I frantically tried to call her back, got through on the stepped up care number, to be told you need to ring reception!! I couldn’t get through. 10 minutes later and two individuals with official lanyards appeared at my door.
The guy shared a name with my son. I can’t help but feel that, that was deliberate. They talked at me, went for a walk with me, and promised me I’d get more help.
I have an urgent psych appointment tomorrow. I don’t know how they can help me.
I’m dreading seeing my CPN. I wonder will she dump me now? I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I never intended to cause her any stress, but I think I did.
I’ve been on a higher does of quetiapine now for 3 nights. Sleep still eludes me but today I’m feeling less knocked out by the quetiapine. I guess I’m starting to adjust. Today the overwhelming sensation is stress; which is a little easier to cope with than yesterdays suicidal ideation. I have no desire to ligature today.
Despite being in hospital, I’m still having to organise everything. Contact nursery, pay bills and liaise with grandparents regarding the care of little man. My head is going to explode. It’s a tangible and all to familiar feeling. It’s like a physical squeezing on my head.
I’ve also pulled a leg muscle which is frustrating as it means I can’t kick Wilson as much as I need to. How will I cope with the urges to self harm today? My mood is a little better though.