A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how I found myself battling to escape a relapse, it ended on a happy note with me feeling I was beginning to see the light, beginning to make a my way out but that has not been the case.
The past two weeks have been the hardest two weeks I have had in years. Last week started with a hospital admission after taking an overdose. Four days in A&E hooked up to a drip to protect my liver, one which I wasn’t sure I wanted, the feelings of anger and frustration grew. I was so low, so miserable and desperately wanted a way out, I wanted to escape from my mind, for it to just shit off, to be free from conflicting thoughts that never cease. I got my medical treatment without too much of a fuss, although the staff were aware I wasn’t too gone on the idea and then I waited to see psych. It was foolish of me to think I could get out of the hospital and not have a heart to heart with a member of the psych team. I told them everything, I figured I had nothing to loose. Part of me wants to get better while another part of me doesn’t, the daemons have well and truly taken over and I no longer no what I want, do I want to live? Do I want to die? Do I want a chance to make things better? After four days, countless drips, sleepless nights, a psych consultant and I was finally free to go, with follow up in the community of course, but anything was better than being admitted to a psych ward!
This week saw another visit to A&E to check my liver, as there were fears I could have damaged it as a result of my overdose. Thankfully it was one day, a few blood tests, a scan and some time on a short drip and I was free to go home, but once again not without seeing the psych team! Luckily no damage was done and I was free to go home.
Currently I’m at a bit of a loss as to how I feel. Confused, broken, isolated, low, frustrated, and angry while at the same time almost feeling nothing. I don’t know when things got so bad and I don’t know where it all went so wrong. It could have been the stress of college, the weeks without outpatient support, the pressure I place upon myself, it could be a whole range of different things and that in it is enough to make things worse.
I’m not really sure what the point of this post was, to let you know I’m not doing so good, to write it all down and make the events of last two weeks seem real, to remind myself that it is ok to feel this way. I’m not sure there is one single reason, rather all of the above and more I’m sure. What I do know right now it that I no longer want to feel the way I am feeling, how I change that, right now I’m not so sure!