Psych hospitals are odd places, but you make friends in here. Comrades to share experiences and anxiety’s with. Temporary friends if truth be told, but for the time you are together those little chats are invaluable.
My friends have been discharged one by one lately, and although I am genuinely delighted for their progress I am becoming lonely.
All off a sudden I’m very very lonely again, just like my first night.
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……………..
I’ve just finished up with my weekly psych review, and marched back to my room. I want to be alone. Then the lady who runs the group psych meetings pops in to ask me to join. “No Thanks, not today.” But as she leaves she remarks, “That’s a pretty hair colour, is it natural? For most people such a simple compliment would raise their spirits, but for me, it’s just another reminder of how different I am, and how much I hate those differences.
What do you see when you look in the mirror? I see ugly. I may have said this already in another post, I’m losing track but the other day my mum was in she told me; “you need to up your game” when she saw that glamour of some of the other ladies in here. She probably said it jokingly, but it hurt. I’ve always felt like she never quite got the pretty daughter she’d been looking for. She’d always remark about the style and beauty of other young girls my age who came into the shop she worked in. It always felt like she was disappointed with us (me and my sister).
I don’t do fabulous nails, perfectly plucked brows or meticulously glamorised complexions, and it’s not because I don’t want to. When you can’t quite see the details of your own face very clearly in a mirror its very difficult to flawlessly and artistically beautify them with all those products that we women are meant to use.
I’m ugly and I’ll forever be ugly. That’s just the way it is.
I’m feeling very odd today. I guess I can only describe it as apathetic. It’s nearly 3 weeks now since I took my overdose and today I feel like I did that day. I’m slighlty anxious, slighlty sad, slightly hyper and slightly in love with the idea of death. If I had those pills again today, I would take them, and I would not call an ambulance.
I find myself scanning every room in this place for ways to hurt myself, and then I catch the eyes of staff on me and think it wouldn’t work anyway. Maybe I just need to be patient. Death will find me if it’s meant to, or I’ll find it.
We played a game a little while ago in the MTT room and for those moments I forgot about everything and just focused on the game. I even laughed.
I just need to get through today.
So this is the wake up call I needed. It turns out that when you try to end your life, sometimes survival instinct kicks in. I guess that’s why I called 999, I guess that’s why even though I find myself scanning my room for hanging points, sharp objects and generally stuff that I could kill myself with, I don’t actually do anything about it. Although lets face it, that’s also in part because I’m checked on every 15 minutes. The only real way I can see of killing myself in here is to asphyxiate, but that won’t work as they’ll find me within 15 minutes and best case scenario I’ll be absolutely fine, worse case I’ll end up brain damaged and more of a burden to my family than I already am.
I could slit my wrists, they guard cutlery like it’s some sort of lethat weapon and I guess in some cases it is, but I do have a plastic box in my room that I could rip with a sharp edge, but there again, I’d just make a bloody mess, be found get stictched up and end up back were I started.
Should I just wait. That’s what I want to do. I want to order more zopiclone online, build up a stash, get out of here, find a time and do it right next time, but even as I’m writing this, I’m starting to think that maybe, just maybe I can do little things to make life more bearable.
So myself and OH have started coming up with practical solutions to ease the pressures on us both. OH is going to get two fixed days a week off work. I plan to go down to 80% and then last night my Mum finally agreed that we could let my little dog retire home to Ireland and be looked after by my folks. I am devastated at the thought of saying goodbye to him, but we can never go anywhere or do anything because we have no one over here to mind him, so in the long run it will be better for us as a family. But it hurts. Oh my god it hurts. My pug was my baby for 10 years and feel like I’m neglecting him. Maybe just maybe these little steps will ease our stress.
So yes I can make these little steps to take away the pressures, but what do you do when your biggest turmoil and most devastating demons are in your head and you can’t send them away. It’s me I hate most of all when I look in the mirror and I can’t escape from me.