My second to last weekend has been ok. No real incidents of self harm, no trips to A&E and no contact with the bloke I shouldn’t see (but sometimes do and get in a mess with). Are things changing? Yes, I think they are. I had my hair cut and highlighted again. I am trying to look after myself and my flat a bit more, and I do think I am harming less. I try to only harm when there is no other option and try harder at distraction etc. There are times when it works and times when I am too far gone. I have this switch in my head and once it pings, I have to harm whether it is right away or a few hours later. But that is only half the number of times compared to before I went into the unit. I am trying to be hopeful and cheerful, trying to work up the courage to admit I have changed and that the unit has made a positive impact on my life, that I am grateful to the staff and it will be ok.
But …. Tempered with that is the fact that I took an overdose last week. I took twice the recorded lethal dose of a drug as I had decided that the future was too hard. I did not want to live, that I’d let everyone down and that I’d failed everyone. I felt that nothing would ever be enough and that all I do here on earth is whinge, moan and feel sorry for myself. I hurt so many people, I know I do the wrong thing time and time again but I can’t work out how else to behave at times or I am too scared to try anything different. I felt like my hope for any kind of life was pointless and I’d prefer to die than live an existence like my life before I went into the unit.
I survived, just. It was horrible to have to go through so much physical suffering but I was lucky to have lived at all. I stayed in the local general hospital near the unit for 5 days. I lied to everyone around me and said I was in the psych unit for the weekend, I couldn’t tell them what I had done. I hoped that I’d die, I was scared when I thought I was going to die and now I’m left with a sense of ‘so, I am meant to be alive, but now what?’
In 2 weeks time, I can not return to the unit and I feel as though I am setting myself up to fail on the outside. Like a massive sense of impending doom. I need to find a focus, get a job or a life or something that is worth keeping going for.
Why is it never enough? I was at the national unit for self harm and it wasn’t enough. I whinged and moaned my way through my treatment and I have seen the nastiest sides of my character. I just do not know where I fit in society or what role I can do in order to make a difference and find some meaning in all this. I think of job after job but then I find out that I can’t do it or that it wasn’t what I thought it was. Nurse, counsellor, researcher, receptionist, checkout girl …. Nothing seems right for me. I am being very picky but what I want to do, which I think is medicine or nursing, I am not physically capable of doing. So what now?
It’s all ‘no good’ and ‘too much’. I have to return to the unit today and start my long goodbye. I’d much prefer a quiet farewell and to go now rather than this long drawn out procedure full of ritual and ceremony. I guess they do it for a reason and in the long run, you have to leave the right way in order to start the next bit well.
I am trying, I will keep trying and it will be ok in the end.
I found this perfect quote on a card the other day and it is so true:
‘Don’t cry because it’s over, smile because it happened’
That is what I am aiming to do.
PS. I will try not to harm once and see how it goes, thank you AB for your lovely comments. Means a great deal. X
