A group of us on the ward ordered dominos tonight and it was really special to me.
We sat in the end lounge eating our pizzas at the table like a family, mostly in silence except to laugh at my pizza being exceptionally messy to eat.
The act of eating at a table in a family setting is extremely symbolic and special to me because it is something I rarely experienced as a child. To me it symbolises closeness and stability, something which as an adult I really cherish.
Of course it’s not something I openly tell people.
I really envy families who sit at the dinner table every night.
Before my suicide attempt I had been feeling strong, I had been working hard at my recovery and was looking forward to going to university on the 16th with relatively little anxiety. I had felt as well as I had been before I had been sexually assaulted three years ago. I felt stable and secure.
My psychiatric nurse was well aware of the anniversary of the rape. I told her about it months ago. The last time we met I voiced my concerns, I reminded her every year I had tried to commit suicide around the anniversary of the assault, and that i wanted to go into respite for three days during the duration of the anniversary and her response was ‘You’re feeling well, I don’t think there’ll be an issue, by the way I’m going on holiday.’ I don’t think she took my concerns seriously.
Now, I feel like I’ve been shattered into a million pieces, I feel weak, fragile. I feel all the progress I made was for nothing and I’m back to square one. I’m terrified of starting university, of socialising, making new friends and trying to study feeling this way.
How do I make new friends knowing three weeks previously I was on a ventilator in a medically induced coma? How do I study? How do I go back to normal?
Everything feels like it’s been turned on it’s head. I keep telling the staff on the ward how I feel and it’s all going in my notes, I hope the consultant listens to my idea to go for an extended stay in respite with crisis team support and my psychiatric nurse comes to the ward round.
I hope to see my own psychiatrist before I leave for uni – as I have a private psychiatrist and he can give me counsel too.
I’m really struggling and it’s really hard for me to verbalize and I apologise if this offends or makes no sense. This isn’t my first suicide attempt but it is my most serious.
I feel awful that I don’t care that the NHS saved my life, because I should care infinitely that the NHS saved my life. I will never forget the looks on the faces of the nurses who cared for me as I was wheeled out of intensive care onto the medical ward. Weary. Kind.
I feel awful that I don’t care that I am alive right now. Because I should care and value my life.
I feel awful that I don’t care that I asked my Mum to give me the surplus medication she had been holding for me to take back to the pharmacy that night with the full intention that I was going to use it to end my life. Because it was a heinous thing to do to her.
I feel awful because I’m not meant to be alive right now, none of this is meant to be happening. My attempt should have succeeded. However, I should care that I’m alive and breathing.
I feel awful. Because I shouldn’t be feeling like this, I should be grateful I woke up. I should be grateful I have a second chance.
Why do I feel like this?
You never really rest on a ward.
You get woken up at 8am for meds by a member of staff walking into your bay shouting ‘Meds time ladies!’ If you’re lucky, on the weekends they’ll bring your meds to your bed and let you go back to bed. I really appreciate the nurses that do that.
I didn’t feel up to going to the one and only group set up for today which was pottery. (that only 3 out of 18 of us can go to and you have to pre book.)
I’ve decided I need to take charge of my life.
I spoke to my old therapist that I was seeing at University. I told her everything that had happened in the year I had taken off from uni – the seven inpatient admissions and three suicide attempts.
She’s agreed to start seeing me again when I go back in September! She says I’ve come a long way in accepting and moving forward with the CSA but I have a lot of work to do on the abusive relationship I was in and the rape.
Two of my friends came to visit this evening but because one has a toddler they weren’t allowed onto the ward but because I am informal I was allowed out for 15 minutes to see them. We ate doughnuts and eclairs in their car, it was lovely to just sit there and laugh and talk about normal things and just be happy and relaxed.
I have a ward round tomorrow, I’m scared I’m going to be discharged, my CPN is on holiday and won’t be there and I want to put forward my case to be transferred to respite for a weeks stay next week starting the 7th and ending the 14th so I can get through the anniversary safely and so I won’t be inpatient the entire time and I can take some responsibility and look after myself during this time and not rely on inpatient services.
I’m still suicidal and don’t feel safe to leave with no support.
I hope the psychiatrist will be supportive tomorrow.
I’m trying my best. I promise.