It’s an interesting situation when you are in a little sleepy place in Scotland and you go along to the wee local hospital to find 3 lovely members of staff on duty. Each one of them English, the social worker who came with me is also English. I thought I was in the wrong country!
I was at aforementioned wee hospital to get my arm patched up. I’m not quite sure where my head was at today but it felt pretty mixed. Irritable yet unmotivated. Calm yet suicidal. Anxious and panicking.
Finally just before CMHT closed I made contact with the social worker I mentioned above. She has been with me before to the hospital for the same thing. I had two cuts that were bleeding quite a lot and several other little shallow ones. Sorry if that was tmi but my head is in it’s own little zone right now. And I keep muddling my words up. And I woke up with a rash on my arm I don’t know what that’s all about. Also I have no water right now because they are digging and drilling and replacing water typed stuff in my street.
Hospital nurse was lovely. Other social worker was lovely. That’s one thing I’ve always been pretty fortunate about – going to a&e and haven’t really come across many judgemental nurses, most have been very nice and put me at ease. I said that to her today – the nurse – that it was so nice not to feel judged. I don’t think they have any idea how much of a difference they can make to our hospital trips when they treat us nicely, gently and with respect compared to those types of nurse who would happily suture you back together without even a mention of an anaesthetic - ‘cos you enjoy the pain.. right? :/
So I’m all back in one piece again now. I have an appointment with Mr Psychiatrist tomorrow at 2.30pm and one of the support workers is picking me up at 2.15 just to ensure I actually go to the appointment. They said I could have someone sit in with me if I want (this is the first one ever that my social worker hasn’t been at with me and I’m scared) but I have said I’m going to try and do the appointment alone with him. Part of that is because I don’t want any more people to hear the crazy shit that comes out my mouth when I’m in my appointments with him, the stuff he terms as psychosis, the stuff I refer to as the crazies. I don’t want any of the other CMHT staff see me in that way. I don’t know why.
I told nice other social work lady that I was going out to my friend’s house tonight just so she thought I would be keeping myself safe somewhere but I was hungry and tired so I came home and had some food and before I knew it, it was 8pm. I have been a good girl in one sense – I washed all my bedding and towels and clothes this week – so that’s one thing up to date.
To be honest I’m fucking shattered and I have no reason to be. The most exercise I’ve had today was either a 10 minute walk with the dogs or half an hour bursts of self harming. Emotionally drained, that’s the one I’m looking for.
I think I will take the dogs a walk and then take my medication a bit earlier than usual with the hope of being asleep before 11pm would be good. I’m not looking forward to tomorrow. Part of that is because I know I have to do the be honest thing and tell him what crazies are still there and about the hospital trip today. I know he is going to question why I left hospital so quickly but in the heat of the moment all I could see was a dream like bubble wrapping me up and shouting FREEDOM!!
Maybe I did come out too soon. I truly want to start this EMDR therapy and I need to be stable to do that. Whether I’m at home or in hospital my self harm risks are around the same. At home I have lots more things to distract me. In hospital I think too much. At home I think even more. In hospital I get so damn homesick and lonely. At home I isolate myself anyway. And I really don’t know what my poor Mum would say if I phoned her tomorrow saying the psych wants me to go back into hospital. Every behaviour I have at home I somehow manage to replicate in hospital. I don’t get why everyone can’t just agree on one thing – suicide is likely going to be the end of me; one day – somewhere, sometime.