He’s been sniffing around today I can’t explain it, but my body feels tense and on edge. My mind feels useless and scatty. My future looks hopeless and worthless.
I hate when I feel like this. I want to buy pills, I’m toying with self harm. I’ve thrown up. I’m slipping somewhat and it scares me.
Just go to bed loopy. No buying pills, no self harm, no undoing the progress you’ve made lately.
Just go to bed!!
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…
And so the cycle begins again……………
I’m out on leave from the hospital, and our plan was to see how it goes for a few days before bringing little man home from granny’s
I’ve been low all day. I’ve been a little weepy and lost for things to do. I’ve contemplated downing drugs and other means.
What surprised me though, is that my heart ached for little man. I practically begged OH to trust me, and bring him home.
At granny’s my little hero leaped out the front door, sprinted shoeless across pebbles and tarmac, and flung his arms around me. We squeezed each other tightly and both faught back little tears.
Our relationship is a little complicated, and I need help with that but……
Little man is home where he belongs! and I must must MUST not let him down or abandon him again.
I awoke today at 19.15 all confused and disiorientated. I quizzed roommates on the days activities, to learn that I had lunch and dinner and was up and about.
I have no memory of any off it. Feeling out of control, feeling detached in some way, I ligatured.
I needed too, but I.cant explain it.
I’m not recovering, I’m regressinng.
And all the staff here hate me……. I annoy them.
I need out
I started this blog around 2 years ago, when I was first sectioned and subsequently admitted to a psych hospital.
I can’t believe it’s post 400, but worse I can’t believe I’m writing this from my bed on a different psych ward.
My mood is low today. My future hopes are well not exactly hopeful.
I’ve not seen little man in weeks (damn covid 19). What I have seen thought is that little man and OH do well without me.
They’ve moved back into granny’s for a bit. That’s where they belong.
Little man deserves a happy home, and all the love and care and support that I can’t offer him.
I love you little man, but you deserve so much more.
This drug addicted, self destructive, self centred mum is no good for you.
I’m not leaving you buddy, I’m freeing you…
“You dont want to be losing that nice figure now, when you do have it”
“You don’t want to be piling that weight back on”
Seriously!!!! Why the hell do I answer my phone…
I’ve already thrown up lunch today. It was too starchy (baked potato). I’m feeling dehydrated and I’m tired.
On the bright side, I’ve finally seen a psychologist. It’s a start I guess.
Last night after meds, I shovelled choclate and crisps into my gob. Previous meals, dinner and a supper scone had been purged, but damn it, I couldn’t throw up after meds as I wouldn’t sleep.
I feel utterly disgusted with myself and I’m desperate to burn.
I keep doing this; the nightime feasts. I wake up with wrappers on my bedside table, some of which I remember and some that I don’t.