I’ve said this before; the UK’s online pharmacy market is dangerous. Members of the general public can with relative ease, obtain prescription medications with minimal cost. Except the cost is potentially not minimal; I almost lost my life! For vulnerable adults like myself who don’t always think rationally or clearly, this is a potentailly fatal system.
So………………… I wrote to the Prime Minister. I recieved a reply yesterday.
If you read it, you’ll probably agree with me, that I’ve been fobbed off somewhat. Tomorrow is World Mental Health Day. Tomorrow I will write to our Secretary of State for Health and Social Care; Matt Hancock, and I will raise a concern with the GPhC (General Pharmaceutical Council)
I pumped those pedals hard tonight. It didn’t matter in which direction I travelled the wind was hitting me square in the face. I didn’t want to stop; I’m not sure why. I had to return home though, given recent history and the fact that I usually only do around 30 minutes, I thought OH might start to worry. 45 minutes against the wind was good though. I tried something a little different tonight; something my psychologist had mentioned to me; “Breathing in light and releasing negativity”. It’s dark out so I breathed in the orange glow of street lamps and breathed out a heavenly white beam (it was easy to visualise with my bike light glistening against the tarmac.). Thinking about it; I should probably have breathed in the heavenly beam but it kind off worked anyway. I’m not very good at these abstract methods of finding inner tranquility, but I need to practice. The benefit tonight, was that whilst focusing on light; I wasn’t really thinking. I wasn’t self destructing or harbouring thoughts of worthlessness, I was merely focusing on breathing light. Off course once I stopped my head cogs picked up pace again. I do however, need to become more comfortable with these abstract concepts.
The next few weeks wiil be all about finding a compassionate self, and the excercises are all a bit abstract and uncomfortable for me. My psychologist will be using good old fashioned “chair work”. I will be encouarged to engage in dialogue with an imagined person (possibly my younger self, or something symbolic such as my inner critic) or indeed I may have to assume the roles of both parties in a conversation. The emphasis will be on self reflection and change, in the hope of removing (or at least reducing) my tendancy to self criticise and ruminate.
Before I go; Night 2 of the “Keep Sally Up” challenge has killed me. I wanted to self harm earlier, but I’ve no need to now by abs/flabs are burning.
The skies are still grey and weepy. Not even a bike could bring out any rainbows today. I’ve started googling again, same sites, same price, same temptation. If I had them now, I’d go to the beach, ditch my bike and bid farewell to this perpetual fire. Or would I? I don’t even know.
I’ve still not heard a peep from my family. I’m in a city where “you’ll never walk alone” and yet I stand forlorn.
I’ve binged and puked. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid!!!!!
Today I had my last cup of lunchtime soup in the psychiatric hospital. I have officially been discharged. I’m so grateful to my nurse and psychologist for today, because I almost bottled it.
I was teary and terrified before returning to the ward, and I really wanted someone to say: “Just stay a couple more nights”, but these amazing professionals know what they are doing. I needed them to be strong for me today. I needed them to be realistic and hold some optimism on my behalf and that’s exactly what they did for me.
“So are we going for discharge”; asked a lovely psychiatrist (whom I’d met with for the first time today).
“Reluctantly yes”; I mumbled. It was the reassurance from the staff that gave me the strength to say those words, and sitting here now at my kitchen table; watching my little man being mischievious and knowing that I have the support of my OH, I’m so glad they did.
It’s a long road ahead but just take it one step at a time Loopy.
It should be a joyous day but it is not. I should be over the moon to be getting discharged today but I’m not. Right now I want to stay in there forever. My sister has just phoned me. Mum told her I’m out. She has just phoned to be nasty and make things all about her; “Thanks for telling me you’re out!!, you never call me back, that’s fine, I’m glad you’re out but we’re not friends anymore and she hung up!!!!
What am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to feel supported when on one of the most important days in my recent history, I get treated like that.
My depression hasn’t lifted, its still here.. I can’t cope with anything. I guess things haven’t really changed. I’m so lonely.
Alot has happened today and I have begun to tick important things off my list in the search for better mental health. I’ve had my brows and lashes tinted, booked a haircut, deleted work email from my phone and joined our local gym.
The day didn’t get off to the best start, with me forgetting to take my morning meds (oops, although I remembered around lunch time.) and then my CPN not showing up when I was expecting her (it was maybe because I’ve not been officially discharged yet, or also highly likely that I’ve mixed up the times). Both little events left me feeling low. I’ve realised that I’m still very depressed and everything takes huge effort.
I did however decide to brave town today (I figured with the rain it may be a little quieter). I felt a little anxious and uneasy on the train surrounded by glaring eyes again, however a little debit card abuse (new clothes for little man as he has grown so much during my absence) cheered me up a little.
When I got home, I forced myself to go out on my bike (who’s name is Ariel by the way). I need to shift this quetiapine weight!!!. For the first time in what seems like forever I could feel the sea breeze on my face and the freshest of air in my lungs. It definitely beats the tobacco stench of the psychiatric hospital yard.
I must promise to myself that I will continue to cycle. It was gusty and extremely difficult to pedal against the breeze (and my legs are still aching from bashing Wilson everyday) but it was also the tonic for my mental health that I needed today. Coming back to the house I felt uplifted, more positive than I had been this morning, and more determined than ever to be discharged officially tomorrow.
I didn’t sleep much last night, thoughts of what would face me today raced through my head and in all honesty I was scared. I got up arouund 8, had what will hopefully be my last ever slice of ice cold soggy toast and sat in the window sill by my room pondering what the day would bring. My favourite HCA chatted with me, and put me at ease for a little while. She had to go out with another patient though so once I was on my own again, my crappy head ran riot.
My psychologist found me sobbing in my room at 11 and we discussed my fears at the start of our session. I can’t really explain what the tears were about; I think just sheer fear of returing to the life that broke me in the first place, and the community mental health team that let me down before (although I have my own care co-ordinator now). I was however reassured that I wouldn’t just be abandoned following discharge. The psychologist can offer me 3 outpatient appointments but she’s going to ask her boss if she can do a couple more.. I’ll find out on Wednesday when I go in for my final review.
This morning I didn’t want to leave but luckily, as it happens, after I asked about going home, I was left sitting around for hours for my TTO’s (meds to take home) to be written up. During this agonising wait, other patients kicked off and were generally just difficult to be around. Why on earth would I want to stay in a place with such unrest when I can be in my own home, with my own things and my own space.
By the time my TTO’s were written up, I was not exactly ready but definitetly determined to leave. My favourite HCA had chatted with me again, gave me a reassuring hug and a little confidence boost. My named nurse who is also amazing, gave me my meds, another reassuring hug and much needed words of encouragment. They were both there for me today when I needed them most.
So with a knot in my stoamch and my last possesions on my back I headed off to the train station. It’s now bedtime, and I’ve found this evening o.k. It still feels a little forced and sureal, and I can’t stop wondering what they’re upto on the ward. My son however has showered me with hugs and kisses and has proven this evening that he missed me. OH did as he had promised and saw a GP today, and sorted out his childcare vouchers.
I’m heading off to bed now, glad that I’ve been given some PRN to take home. I’m not quite confortable here yet. I do however realise that I can’t fix anything whilst I’m an inpatient. Therefore I need to cope, because I need to be discharged on Wed as planned to set about altering my future for the better.