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’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!!
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.
Literally….. tonight I hid in our laundry room, tied pj bottoms tight around my neck and I waited.
I waited for the throbbing head, the pulsing in my neck, my closing puffy eyes and unconsciousness.
I was found, quickly untangled and checked over. The urge has been building all day. I had earlier spoken with a nurse and asked her to remove items.
The tipping point though, was dinner after which I felt fat far fat, so puked also losing my lorazepam. Already anxious and tense I rang little man to say good night.
The call upset me. He’s changing, growling up and growing used to life without me. He and OH do well without me.
The path ahead feels monsterouus, and my reserves are low.
I must stop self destructing. I’m ruining all our lives.
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…
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.
I need to run, I need to run, I NEED TO RUN!!!
I’m a ball of nervous tension. I’m going stir crazy. I need to run!!!
Our little yard is the size of a frigging matchbox.. I can’t sprint there. We have a ball, but the walls are more glass than brick. I’m desperate to kick it HARD!!! What is it we me and football’s in hospital??
I sneaked in a little burn earlier, but it didn’t work. The waters not hot enough, and they’ve sequestered my straighteners so no joy there.
How on earth do I vent all this???