Care in the community

There’s going to be row …. All is not well with my family. Let me explain. My lovely father came over this afternoon and he is helping me with loads of things. Like making my bed (I cannot do it alone, I can’t reach the corners on crutches) and taking out the rubbish down 2 flights of stairs. I am so grateful for his help; that is not the problem. I rang mum to say he was on his way home and it transpires that she gave him some money for me, which he forgot to give me. With things so tense in the family already, my father is not a happy man. So a row from mum is likely to make things very difficult. Silly small rows like this often blow up big time at the moment. I feel awful as it is all my fault. I am having a real financial crisis. I spent too much whilst away at the unit and now things are very tight. Mum and Dad are paying off my credit cards and I feel so stupid. Thus the extra money Mum wanted to give to me was so important to her. I am so sick of everything right now. Money makes such a difference to everyone but for me buying things is like buying happiness. I know lots of people do the same and it is not out of control or anything but I just don’t have anything to spare for non-essentials. I keep buying books in order to read more about borderline and self harm, in an effort to feel better. There are lots of self help style books out there. Yet I do know the answers, stick in therapy, get coping skills blah blah … So why do I still think buying stuff is the answer? Who knows!!!

Other than that things are very mixed. I am having a lot of mood swings. In minutes I can be laughing, then furious then ok … It is quite confusing and unpredictable. I know this bouncing around of emotions is very hard to be around and so interacting with others is tricky, on a good day I have lots to say, can be very funny and ok, another day, it is all no good and too much, which makes me impossible to be around. So I am not making too many plans to see anyone. Its easier if I just stay inside on my own. I am keeping all my appointments and stuff like that, which is a step forward compared to this time last year where I couldn’t even get out of bed. I am keeping clean and tidy around the flat, all good. I just wish I was happier. What is it that other people do to be happy? When was I last really happy? I am not sure how to answer that. I was never particularly happy in the unit yet I am idolising it now because I am so lonely (out of choice really, my fault, as I can’t face being with people).

I wish I could snap out of this maudlin self-pity. I can’t wait to get back to uni. Hopefully the course notes will arrive soon and I can get a head start before Christmas. I have decided to do one history module – Victorian attitudes to religion and gender, 2 theology modules – world religions and Old Testament theology, and a module from social studies – sexualities. Should keep me out of mischief for a while! I am looking forward to using my brain again and being around other students.

I did go on the protest march about shutting our local hospital. It was huge. Keith Richards even went. I hope it makes a difference. I have been to A&E over 180 times in the last 3 years or so. Such a time waster, I self harm and then expect them to pick up the pieces. I do feel very guilty about it so by marching etc I hope that I am redressing the balance and giving something back. No one will know the decision of the PCT for ages.

So it is not all bad, I am just being a drama queen! (No change there then …)

After much stupidity last week, I have obviously had a visit or 2 to A&E to try and get my head around things. I am glad that my psychologist is back from her leave and I had so much to say to her at my appointment that I appeared a bit hyper – my words came ‘vomiting’ out in a splurge and she had to slow me down! I think this is because I have few people to actually speak to each day. Last weekend, I spent over 36 hours without talking to anyone – no phone calls, no going out …. Nothing.
This week though, I did manage to get my arse out of bed and go to Manchester for the day to see people. It was a good day. I loved all the travel and it was a real challenge – over 10 hours on a train, lots of connections to get etc. Simple stuff for most people but really hard when you are on crutches, it takes military planning! I loved seeing my friends and it was the first time I’d met most of them as they were people I post to on the internet. We all have ‘issues’ and met on a group page about self harm. They had all overcome their anxieties and made it to Manchester, and it was a so nice to meet people I had received so much help and support from. I also saw one of my best friends from uni, B. She now lives in Manc and I miss her a lot. I had a nice couple of hours with her and her little girl. Life changes so much for people and I must admit I feel like I must make some changes too. It does feel like I am letting things slip by sometimes.

I have been a bit spun out by something my psychologist said when I saw her. We were looking at what to cover in our sessions. She said I was chaotic and until the chaos calms down, we cannot go back to the difficult issues that still hurt me. She called them ‘abuse’ and said I was ‘traumatised’. I am scared by this. I have always known I had past problems that come back to me in the form of flashbacks, and that part of why I self harm is down to what happened, but I never thought of them as abuse. I feel quite shocked to hear them described so seriously. It has made me think a bit differently and face up to the fact I have such issues in my past. I have been looking on the net for hours to find resources and help but my psychologist was very clear that I was not ready to talk about them specifically – I needed to develop other coping mechanisms so that after such sessions I remain safe. So we are going to work on skills training for the time being. I am both relieved and frustrated by everything taking so long. I do not want to talk but I do want the flashbacks to go away and I don’t know any other way of dealing with them other than talking. I do trust her though, she is usually right about this sort of thing.

Thus I am left feeling very unstable – not too bad but changeable. One minute, I am very tired and go to bed, other times I can face the world and get on with things. I hate that I still self harm – I had aimed to not need hospital treatment following my stay at the unit. But when I get really out of control, it is still the one way to restore calm and gain some release. I have currently over 20 stitches. No one really knows how much I harm as I have no one to confide in. My psychologist says that if I tell her, she thinks I do so just to worry her. That is not what they said at the unit. They took the attitude that saying and sharing the burden can remove the need to communicate via cutting. Having people know is enough. I miss the unit so much. I often look at my watch and think what I’d be doing now if I was still there. I think of the staff and the other residents and wish I had not wasted so much of it being angry or pathetic. Until I get back to uni, I am not sure what to do with myself. Time just feels endless and lonely.

I have had a positive week really, but it feels pants. Too much self-pity and introspection I think.

Tomorrow is another march to save our local A&E from closure. Ironically, I have been there over 180 times and need it more than most but I am not sure whether it is really appropriate for me to go. I do, after all, have a choice about going – I cause the harm which needs treatment. But I think that the government cannot get away with running down the NHS resources this way. They say it is better for people to go to big hospitals and get specialist help. Obviously they have never been to a big hospital – my time in ‘national centres of excellence’ has proved that big hospitals do not have time to care. Yes, they may have the most specialist services but the nursing care, waiting times, conditions of the wards and infections rates are appalling. Local hospitals are much better and if they cannot treat you, at least you get transferred to somewhere that can help in a better state than after long ambulance journeys (I get very ambulance sick – a transfer from Chichester to Brighton was enough to make me projectile vomit!) So I am going to try and attend, it’s the least I can do to say thank you and I’m sorry.

So, it has been three weeks since I left the unit. I have settled back in to some sort of normality, prescriptions, household tasks and various episodes of very bad borderline behaviour. Things are different than before, I am trying a lot harder not to self harm and have managed to avoid A&E a bit more, I have started to go out and see people and I have tidied up somewhat (ie. Have found the sofa – and a stack of bills!!)

I feel a bit more in touch with my friends but I am still stuck for words when it comes to describing where I have been. It’s like coming out in some ways – I tell people my progress and in doing so, they find out how bad things were. A lot of people don’t realise about my depression and self harm and so saying about therapy has led to some difficult discussions but I feel a sense of relief, overall. Like people know me more and can appreciate where I am coming from, I think.

I am so uncertain about my future and now I realise that lying doesn’t help. If I just say part of the truth, that I will return to uni and that will have to do for now, often I am surprised by people’s responses, they too have little sense of the long term. My mate C has a new man, I am pleased for her and hope she has found a nice one. She makes me see that you can have everything I think I want, like a job, mortgage and family but if you are unhappy about being single or without a child, then it is as if you have nothing. I wish I had more interesting things to say and usually resort to the news or TV storylines to have a conversation. I do still feel a long way off a good friend to my friends. I have forgotten their birthdays and lost track of their lives whilst I lived in the CRU bubble. I did so because I was focusing on myself but also I could not bear the gap between their lives and the state of mine. I am so very selfish at times but I had to make the most of the CRU. My friends do not seem to mind though.

My parents have waded into my flat and helped me enormously. They patiently sorted, tidied, fetched and carried last Saturday and will do so again tomorrow in the hope of getting me sorted. I am so grateful to them. I really feel closer to them now. I had to tell them of my financial situation but they are helping me to budget etc. At the CRU group, I was told off by the staff for running to my parents and ‘running them into early graves’. I can see their point but right now, I am at the stage where I could give up all together and just having someone care about me and my life, is enough to get me out of bed and doing stuff. I am using my parents too much but they want to do something, anything to help me get on with my life. I will try, again to keep going once the flat is more manageable. It’s a fine line between learned helplessness and true need. I am not sure where I am with that.

My psychologist has been away and I look forward to her return and some therapeutic input. I have been back to the outpatient group twice but each time I came away and ended up in A&E. It hurts so much to be back there and not part of it. I am not going again for a while. CPN from hell has been really nice. I am shocked! But she helped me sort out my kitchen – rolling up her sleeves to do the washing up and stuff. I am used to her being just a judgemental pain in the arse – I totally see her differently now. A very nice surprise. But, one of my more borderline days happened to be when I saw my consultant and told him to ‘leave me alone’ adding ‘you patronizing bastard’, and stormed out. Not big or clever. I have yet to apologise. I was very cross with myself but I just lost it.
So I have plenty of help from lots of nice people in the mental health world, good friends and parents. But I still feel very empty, like it is all for show and not how I really want life to be. I sit alone a lot, usually in bed watching TV or reading. I am miserable and self pitying but I don’t know what else to do. I have offered my voluntary services to the church and the vicar says he’ll find me something to do, and I hope to slowly get more active. It’s just hard. Baby steps take a lot of motivation and that is something I am struggling with, but not giving up on, for now.

I have been officially discharged from the CRU and have returned to my flat. I have been home a week now and cannot face unpacking so the flat is like Basra on a bad day – stuff everywhere – I have even lost the sofa! I am overwhelmed with the task because the flat was a tip even before I came home and there is just too much crap in all the storage spaces so I have to sort them out before I can even begin unpacking. But the truth is perhaps what lies behind my inability to unpack – at the unit we were continually asked to look at our behaviour and work out what is really motivating us. And in this case, I just cannot face the finality of leaving the unit. I cannot accept that I have left and I do not want to be at home. The unit and all that I have achieved whilst being there feels so present and I actually ache because I am missing them. Ironic really since I had so much trouble staying there. Every Sunday was a trial to make myself go back and now, Sunday afternoons are unbearable in the fact that I am stuck here for another 7 days with no respite.
My leaving was both touching and sad but the staff and current residents were very kind and thoughtful in how they helped me to review the admission and realise all that I have achieved but also saying goodbye without falling apart. I spent so much time in tears in the last week. But I also found myself furious – I was not ready to leave, I have nothing in the community. I wanted them to make me better and I was so disappointed that it was the end but the strong feelings and problems I arrived with, have not abated at all. It was a very tiring and emotional week. Unsurprising that this week I have bounced from appointment to appointment, trying not to think about it all.

Today it all hit me – a whole week without the CRU. I cried for ages and I felt so awful, I had to self harm for the first time since I’ve been back. I am now gathering up the courage to go back to A&E. I feel that I have let everyone down and if my parents knew, they’d be crushed. All that money (£66,000) and I still have to self harm in order to cope. I want to be back there. It felt so caring and safe – even though at the time, it felt nothing like that. I now sit here at home and have no one. Out of hours care is an ‘unmet need’ according to the discharge form and there is nothing anyone can do to change this. Yes, there are helplines and such but basically, you are on your own. The head of the unit, Jane, admitted that I would have a very tough time in the next three months, adjusting to life back here again. I do have the opportunity to return for one group a week on Tuesdays, called the CRU group. You go for 3 months, each Tuesday, and have 45mins back in the unit to talk. But that is divided between up to 3 returning residents. So I travel for 3 hours and get 15 mins. Marvellous. I couldn’t face going last Tuesday but I have to go this Tuesday because I have travel forms and money to claim plus my home team needs some of the paperwork like care plans and copies of letters etc. I do want to see everyone again. I miss my fellow residents and I want to see how they are getting on but I am scared to see the staff again, because I have screwed up so badly. And there is a real chance that in leaving the unit to come back here, whilst the inpatients go to art group, it might just make things feel even worse. I do not want to see S in charge as senior resident. I don’t want to hear what I have missed and I don’t want to see the staff, feel their care but not be able to get any time with them. It hurts so much; I just go from task to task until I sleep each day. I feel very empty. I cannot face seeing my friends again and I am sick of telling people how I am doing fine, I am much better and all that crap.

I have a photo from the unit that I will try to upload to my blog. I look at it and remember that day, and realise that I had every chance to change but I wouldn’t or couldn’t let them in enough.

I pin my hopes on getting some voluntary job so that I have a purpose again – it is only in helping others that I feel any better about myself. I do have psychology sessions as well so I have to keep at it, tidy my flat and try again and again.

I now face the joy of waiting ages in A&E on a Sunday. My own fault, I know but I wish I could stitch myself.
Sorry to moan and whinge but that is how I am at the moment.

There has to be more to life than this ...

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

I am not happy – as per usual.

I now have 6 weeks left to go and on Monday, all my care workers are coming up to the unit to talk about what to do with me when I leave. However, the head of the unit is away and I feel that she doesn’t care enough to attend my big meeting, so why should I go? How pathetic is that? I will go and I am sitting here contemplating how best to go about getting back to London. I now have my car and I can drive it – I drove yesterday for the first time on my own since last October and it felt so good to have my freedom back. But I am scared of the long drive and the traffic in London.

Nothing is working out at the moment and I just want to forget about it all. I don’t want to go back again and I just want to stay here at home for the rest of my admission. I have had another row with one of my three primary nurses and I can no longer work with him. He said he was more interested in what 2 other residents are thinking and feeling rather than me. I was very hurt by this and then he did not see any reason for my distress. I was over reacting as per usual.

I cannot seem to cope with anything right now. I am harming about twice a week because it is all so stressful. I do want to leave and have the best care when I am back here for good but … I don’t want to ever leave the unit because I am scared that without their help, I will succumb to my own evil impulses and die. We don’t talk a lot about dying from self harm, but my friend Gemma did kill herself and the other night at the unit, one of the other residents, C, was taken away in an ambulance after swallowing a razor blade. I was very shocked. But, it is just a taste of what it is like for my parents – they must worry so much about me and what I do to myself. I feel so guilty but the first thing I go to when I am upset is self harm. It helps get rid of the emotions so well that the down sides of it, like going to A&E and being treated like shit, are worth it. But hurting others … that is surely worth stopping for? I just feel so crap about it all.

As senior resident, I am trying very hard for the unit. I do everything they ask and still that nurse I argued with called me lazy. The meal was a success – the food was ok but I was complemented on the fact that the meal was the best organised meal they have ever had! So I can’t be that lazy then? I truly am trying my best to be everything they want me to be. But that never feels good enough

It’s all so hard. I have family work on Tuesday. My parents are coming up for an hour and at least they can have their say about everything. I just hope it goes ok. I am so sorry to drag them into all this but I know we need to talk about my self harm and the way it affects them.

I am so scared I have wasted all the trust money because right now, I do not feel any better and I am so tired. I am sorry to go on and whinge so much but that is where I am at.

I have to go back now … here we go again.

Just a quick one today as I am running late in terms of getting everything done before I set off, on time, for the unit.

Before I launch into another boring tirade about the unit, I just wanted to say a big thank you to the lovely people who read and comment on my blog. I print all of them out and put them into my diary to treasure as I feel so touched that people would bother to get involved in my crazy life, voluntarily. I have been thinking about how many people are in my life and mostly, apart from my poor long suffering parents, they do not know anything about the stuff I write here. Very few know that I self harm and those that do know have no idea about how severe my problems are. So to have people who have never met me caring this much for me makes me feel more cared for than you can possibly know. I am very, very grateful and the advice is often spot-on.

Anyway, this week has been another rollercoaster. I guess if it gets easy, then I am not trying hard enough. I have been very told off for my behaviour in groups. You are right, borderlines do not generally respond well to group situations but I am doing particularly badly at the moment. I was trying harder a few weeks ago when K and E were still at the unit. But since they have left and we have so many new people to work with, I have this awful feeling that I do not want them to know my business. I fear their judgement and I want to be seen as a nice, good person. So I hold back on comments and never really talk about what is going on for me. The staff say that when I shut my eyes in group (which I do when ever I want to leave the room so they stay shut for ages) that it is very rude and unhelpful. It looks to others like I do not care about their issues or that I am border. I thought that by shutting my eyes and metaphorically leaving the room, I stopped myself from getting involved in their issues and being nasty. I can’t bear watching other people cry and get upset in group when you cannot hug them. I want to keep out of their problems because a/ it is none of my business and b/ I have enough problems of my own. Selfish, I know, but there is only so much misery I can handle.

What am I going to do? I have to start using the groups because I only have 8 weeks left and for 7 of them, I will be senior resident so I have to take the lead. Plus, is it so bad to let people know what is going on for me? Am I that different? L manages to share her issues when she is very odd at times and no one bats an eyelid. I also feel that others have enough on their plate without my crap. Is it arrogant to want to keep my problems private?

Then, this Thursday, I am organising a lunch for 16 people as part of saying goodbye to L. I want to make it special but she has picked some difficult dishes to cook and the other residents refuse to do anything more than just chop stuff and set the table. I am so nervous. I could seriously mess this up for everyone. But I am planning very carefully and it has been done by everyone else before, so I just have to get on with it. I can’t focus too much on my own problems until next week, which can only be a good thing, so I suppose that it will be fine. I just wish I didn’t feel so on my own with it all.

The male resident is fine. He is a sweet bloke who has a number of problems and I just feel sorry for him rather than scared of him. I really catastrophise at times (borderline thing AGAIN).

And so, this aching sadness and pull towards suicide must be put on hold. I have these very intense urges to see if I am meant to be alive; trying to die one more time. They are there and I have told my nurse but she just thinks it’s a borderline self pitying thing, but I know what I am capable of. And this week I must work on making things good for L so that I do not spiral downwards and think those thoughts. I just get very scared of myself at times.

Right, time to pack.

All good w

I am bunking off!

Seriously, I should be at the unit right now and once again I am taking Sunday/Monday off. I cannot face going back but also, I have chosen to take the days off to sort myself out – I have to attend the STI and family planning clinics and I felt it was best that I took responsibility and sorted it all out here in Chichester rather than in London, only to have to send my notes down when I leave the unit.

I have got myself into a rather huge mess and if I am honest, I left the unit in a very bad mood on Friday. I wish I could leave now in some ways, but in others, I wish I could stay there forever. It is only the thought of how hard it will be to leave, that is making me act like a right bollocks – I am so scared that in 9 weeks time, I will be alone again. If I work on stuff up there and it opens a can of worms, then in a few weeks, I will back here with just outpatients to rely on. It sounds so pathetic, but if I fight and argue then I won’t be so hurt. But then again, I will not be using the unit to its full potential. Grrrrr. I have all these areas of ambivalence and confusion, like how during the week, the unit firmly controls my meds and treatment, yet Friday – Sunday, I am allowed to do it all. They will not let me do my own meds at all. It’s like they say I am useless all week but suddenly on Fridays, I am responsible?? Then all the stuff about being abandoned in Kings – I am still really hurt that the second I was physically ill, they just left me. I feel that those 3 days were awful, I was given no support or help with the difficult issues bought up by having that kind of treatment. I was not given any space to get my head around it all. I talk about my experiences over the years of being ill and in hospital – all of which are very hard because I get flashbacks all the time, but they (the staff) stop me and say I am talking about the wrong thing. If I am upset by something, surely then it is worth discussing? The relationships between me and a number of the staff are very strained and I know that they do not like me as much as the other residents. One nurse hugged another resident in front of me as if to say ‘J deserves a hug as she is good, you do not because you are bad Sian,’ I am so anxious al the time, my anxiety scores have doubled since my admission (they test our depression, anxiety and social functioning scores 3 times per 6 months of admission).

But the argument with the staff on Friday was my entire fault. I was upset that the doctor of the unit is leaving. I have argued with him before but then we started to get on. So, I thought that I would be able to see him and say goodbye properly so that the therapeutic relationship was ended (closure issues and all that ….). But the staff said that I had to say goodbye in group. No reason, just a decision. I refused. I will not talk about really personal stuff in group. It was bad enough to have to answer questions about my hygiene and cleanliness in front of the group (I do not look after myself very well – I have a new care plan demanding that I clean myself up and try to take more pride in my appearance – embarrassing and humiliating but at least I am trying to sort it and the other residents also said they had similar issues), but I couldn’t say goodbye to someone I really cared about in front of them. So I picked a fight with him over medication with him. I did try to fix it, and I did him a nice card with what I wanted to say in it, but all in all, I was not very nice. With all my health problems, I am very reliant upon doctors. The whole 6 month rotation stuff is harsh on me because I just get to know them and then they leave. They leave, and I stay the same. Sometimes, I’d see them again as they progressed through their career, but usually, they’d be there one day and gone the next. I thought this time I would get to say goodbye and have a chance to say all this. But once again, I am left behind. Still useless and ill.

To deal with all this, and the expectation of the new male resident tomorrow, I got pissed last night on my own (cherry liqueur). Not big or clever. I have cut twice this week and I am generally feeling really miserable.

I cannot do anything right in London and I am so tired of being who they want me to be, but then again, I wish I had long to work on my deep and complex issues. Why do I behave so badly? I do these things, have these arguments and then I feel deeply ashamed. But not ashamed enough not do it again.

I am scared of tomorrow; I hate those types of appointments and examinations because of stuff from the past. I know that no one likes them but I find it brings things up and I just get upset by the memories. I have learned some grounding techniques and hopefully I will be ok. But then I have to travel back to the unit 11pm at night because of the trains. It’s mad but I am not allowed to miss Tuesday’s program.

I am sorry to go on. There are some other bits going on. I am doing physio now and that means my walking is getting easier. The new resident from last week, C, is lovely and although she likes being the worst self harmer and the biggest safety risk, she’ll get there in the end. The other residents are doing ok and S, who I really feared has actually been ok. She has to stay or she’ll end up in a behavioural unit so she is trying harder, at last. I have chosen a new perfume which I love – its Elizabeth Arden ‘Mediterranean’ and its lovely. So not all bad, honest.

The urges to self harm still come and at times I have more strength to face them than at others. Sometimes I know if I give in, then at least I will get a release from the feelings but sometimes, it’s not long before I’m off again. I am scared by what I know to be within my capabilities. I know how to seriously harm myself and at times, I want to see if I am still meant to be alive or if I should be dead. If I tempt fate, try to do something serious, and then if I am saved, then I know I am meant to be alive but if I die, then I am finally where I should have been all along. I died for 10 mins when I 20, and I still wonder that each time I have been resuss’ed, was I meant to have died? Was I meant to be saved? Should I still be alive?

And now it’s time for big brother.
See you later (and thank you for reading – you have done well to plough through all my crap!!)

I am at a sort of crossroad with the unit, it has been an exhausting week where I feel that I have given all of myself and have not really enough left for me.
Let me explain …
I knew this week would be hard. K leaving was already a big issue and I knew her last week would be awful. I tried so very hard to make it special and as easy for her as possible, but each night I went to bed beyond tired. I had lots of ‘heart-to-hearts’ with L, K and J. There were only 4 of us all week which is not really that different from 6, but the absence of 2 people was more severe this week. Especially as we had news about the next 2 residents booked to be admitted this Monday and the next (23rd and 30th July). The big news is the admission of a 40 year old man. I flipped at this news. We only have one shower, three toilets and one bath. Sharing with an unknown man and having him sleep in the rooms next to us is so scary. 3 out of the 4 of us at the unit have been raped. And the nurses do not seem to care. There have been men on the unit before and there have been no significant problems. I just think that it is really inappropriate. We have to be able to talk about our experiences of sex and rape, but a man will prevent all that work from going on. Plus, and this makes me cringe but J thinks the same, I am worried that I will behave very badly and end up shagging him. It happened twice in acute psych and I just am scared I will repeat the same old patterns. I don’t want to be in this situation and I am terribly jealous of K’s admission because she sailed through the unit without such issues because the last time a man was on the unit was 2006.
Then there is the return of angst-ridden teenager from hell, S. She is 18 but so young and she is someone I have so many issues with, that her not being at the unit for the best part of 5 weeks has been a blessed relief. She returns today and that is the main reason I am not going back until tomorrow. I do not want to be there with her. I do not want to talk about anything in front of her because I do not want her to know anything about me. She is the one that thinks if she cuts badly enough to need stitches in a&e, then it is a ‘success’. She has no reason to get better as she spends all her spare time on the net moderating a self harm website, so if she stops harming, then she has nothing. It is all she talks about. Last week the whole needing an escort to her local unit was a load of arse if she can get herself out of the acute unit within a week. Clearly she said all the right things to the duty doctor and staff at the unit, but her local team know her better and can see through all her pretence. It makes me so angry, I am liable to launch a nasty, aggressive diatribe at her and I know that is unfair, I am 30 years old and I should be able to control myself.

So, all in all, I am seriously thinking about my position at the unit. My psychologist cannot take me back unit October but I could go back to uni and the day hospital for support. Yet I do not want a stupid teenager and violent bloke to take away my one chance to have all this help? I was starting to talk about this on Thursday and the staff couldn’t care less, they are so arrogant. They were like, it’s your choice and we can fill your place no problem. My associate nurse, who I currently can’t work with at all, called M, was then beyond horrible. There was a water leak in my room and he laughed saying it was nothing when actually; it soaked my bed, my books and ruined my wash bag and quilt. I cannot believe the total lack of support and kindness from the unit. Did you know there is a rule that staff DO NOT hand you tissues when you cry? You have to take responsibility for getting your own tissues. What? And then the other day, I needed some indigestion stuff and there was no nurse around to help me for over 2 hours, so I took some from my own supply and I had to report it as self harm. Self harm? I was helping myself, looking after myself when they couldn’t be bothered.

I can only take so much of their petty stupid rules, boundaries and regime. I am tired, K did not appreciate any of what I did for her (which was not the aim of all I did, but a thank you would have been nice) and I am at the stage where I do not know what to do. My parents don’t really understand and there is a huge family situation going on with my grandmother (as per bloody usual) and so they’re busy. I should be able to sort this out for myself anyway.

But, there is hope on the horizon, I have ward round tomorrow. Now, I am not a fan of ward rounds. In the past I have avoided them like the plague, hiding in hospital bathrooms for hours when I was ill with my asthma. I hate loads of people talking about me and making me sound nothing more than my symptoms. So, as hard as it is, I think that is the only space to get people to listen to me. I know I should have gone back today, but I want to send them the message that I am miserable and have serious doubts about continuing my admission. There is no point cutting; they never listen to that, so I will return tomorrow in time for ward round. I have planned to get the same train as my care co-ordinator so I have some time to be with someone who knows me before I walk into the unit again. It is a tad pathetic and I am very frustrated with myself. I know I am going to get to the stage where I have to cut because I feel so crap, but this way, I at least have more time to think and work out what I am going to say and do tomorrow.

I feel like I am letting everyone down and making such a drama out of nothing, but I truly feel scared of what I am capable of, and scared of the other residents. It is my admission and I want to do myself justice as well as get better for all those around me who are hurt by my behaviour. 10 weeks left and so much to sort out, I don’t know where to start or just to take what I can and go home now before I really lose it.

I hate myself so much, I wish I could be a nicer person but I seem to have to work at being nice. No unit is going to change that, is it? And if that is the case, what the hell am I doing? Is life worth all the pain and hurt I cause? I hate this and it feels like it has always been this way. Can I change it? Is 30 too old? What do I want from life? Do I want life?

Sorry.

Here is an ode to retail therapy:
I have spent too much
On many pretty things
…
Bank statement will not arrive for ages
So for now, my heart sings

Ok, very bad poetry, but you get the idea. I have bought happiness (and 2 t-shirts, pants, some earrings and a whole lot more!!!) and I really enjoyed it. The sun helps and being with my mum was a real treat. It’s so hard to leave the unit behind. In my mind I keep thinking I have to evaluate about this on Sunday night, what will I say in group? It kind of destroys the moment and allows the unit to define my leave at home which is a bit sad. I must try and leave the week of hard stuff behind in London and have almost a separate self for the appreciation of home.

A comment on my blog (thank you) talked about decorating and I am sorry to say that did not really occur to me. I have never attempted DIY of any sort and may be that might make the flat more mine that having the décor decided by a lovely little old lady who sadly died. I will ask my support worker about the practicalities of what I can and can’t do as it is a rental flat but that is a great idea.

I am in a funny mood really. I have some many things to deal with this weekend. Another lovely resident is going home on Friday. So I am expecting a very emotional week, again. It is hard for us to comprehend the feelings she has because until you leave, you don’t know how it is. She has spent most of last week crying and going for long walks. I am planning a surprise party for one of her last evenings and we have all clubbed together to get her a special present. But … change is unsettling and it reminds us all how hard it is to leave. My parents think I can handle it and that I will not make a big scene or drama, but I have my concerns. I arrived in such a hurricane, angry at everything and everyone, I so want to leave them with good memories of a nice patient they enjoyed treating and then I go and pick fights all the time. I was told off for bad language and being rude to the staff, I am ashamed to admit. I lost my temper because another resident had to be escorted home to her local hospital acute ward. I was sad for her, but before the sadness, I felt furious with jealousy that she got an escort and yet when I was really unwell at Kings, I was left on my own with no help at all. I was so frightened and unwell, it was a horrible experience and none of the staff could care less. It is no real excuse, but it is an explanation for my behaviour. I need to work on my emotional reactivity and be less extreme. It’s as if I need to be able to be in more control. The staff no longer believe I am sorry for all the times I have been rude or angry because I am not changing enough. I feel very stuck this way because I can think up all these management skills but when that something explodes in my head, I just launch into nasty-mode. I don’t really know why, but it feels like it will last forever and then … its gone again and I’m left as I am now, deeply ashamed and confused.

I feel all wrong, like at the unit I have to be constantly on guard and check my behaviour, incase I am in trouble or I have upset someone. I spend most evenings alone trying to keep myself away from the others in an attempt to limit their exposure to me and so I don’t have to change how I feel to fit in with them. I do this all the time. I can only see my friends infrequently because it is such an effort to be around them.

They are also on at me about my use of crutches. I use one crutch around the unit and 2 for balance if I go out anywhere. I have really tried to fit in and move as much as everyone else but mobility is really hard for me. My legs swell a lot and retain fluid, I am unbalanced, I can’t feel much below the knees and so on. But the staff think I have made it all up to gain attention and keep ‘disabled’ when I don’t need to be. I know this is real, I’ve had tests and it is peripheral neuropathy. But they will not let it go .I know it is easier in many ways to be ill but I am trying my hardest to get on and not make a big thing of it.

I don’t really know how to get through the next 11 weeks. It will be tough, 2 more people to leave, potentially 4 more residents to join …. What is important to talk about and what is a distraction? How best can I use the time? Hard stuff.

I am doing more in the main hospital sites like woodwork and sewing, they are with other patients from other units and it is nice to do stuff that is not endlessly analysed and picked over. But I must use the unit to its full potential. The Trust are paying so much money, my parents want me to get better so much and I need to change so much in order to be happy. I must get over myself a bit more and not argue so much. I am so torn between being the way they want, trusting them and doing as they say, and the slightly removed position I take now. I kick the systems so much, but they must work, why else does the keep going in this era of accountability and evidence-based practice.

I don’t know, but I’m over half way and I do feel better overall, so you can’t say fairer than that.