Wednesday, 10 August 2011

It Is Getting Worse.

So first off what I wanted to say about my recent stay on medical wards.

You know I wrote that post in which I talked about my dream of being in hospital when I stabbed myself. I said it wasn't my hospital but it was the staff. Well turns out it was my hospital. It was the intensive care ward. The ward in which I was on over the weekend. I have never been on that ward, never visited anyone and had no idea what it was like. Until I was there and it was the same as my dream. It goes to show my dreams do show me things. Dreams have shown me things in the past but I have never had it where I have written about it and then, bam! I have been there. Kind of weird really. Does it mean my dreams can predict the future in some weird way?

Anyway, today.

So, summoned to the hospital to see Dr T and Beth. Dr T as usual was running late. So Beth sat with me in the waiting room. She was asking me loads of questions. She basically said that last week the only thing that would have stopped me from doing what I did would have been to use the MHA then. I just said nothing would stop me. She kept going over and over things. Talking about stuff that had happened that I didn't know about. A call to the police saying there was a dead body from someones mobile phone. I don't get why they didn't call an ambulance? Why the police? If you come across what you think is a dead body, unless quite obviously dead, such as being decapitated, or just some limbs, you would call an ambulance. Even if you felt for a pulse and couldn't find one, you would still call an ambulance. I find all that weird. So much so I wonder if that was actually the way in which things panned out. I mean, this team have been known to get things wrong before.

So in with Dr T. I can't make eye contact. I can't speak. All I can say is I don't want to see anyone and I won't work with anyone. Again, they asked me to go in to hospital on a voluntary basis. I said no. As I said before, I fear hospital more than I fear death.

Dr T then told me I was feeling angry at them. No, not particularly. I just want to be left alone. I feel that their input makes me worse. I said I wanted to go alone. They said they couldn't do that as they were worried and my actions had caused a lot of concern. And, my behaviour now was causing concern.

I was asked how I felt, I said I wished it had worked, what I didn't say was because I don't want to deal with what is going off now. Everyone knows. I never wanted that. I don't want anyone knowing. They asked if I was still having thoughts and I said I was but I didn't have any plans. And here they go again with getting it wrong. They said I had attempted in the past when I didn't have plans. Well, actually no! Every attempt has been planned. I didn't have the energy to attempt to argue with them. I don't have the energy to argue with them.

Dr T asked me if I thought I was unwell. I said no. I don't feel that I am. These feelings aren't any different to what I have been feeling for a long time. So I don't think I am unwell. I don't know what they think though. I couldn't look at them in the eye and I couldn't speak really. Just the occasional one word answer and the odd nod, shake and shrug. I tried to get out of my head and from what was going on. I noticed Beth's nice shoes and her purple toes, Dr T's very unfashionable black lace up shoes with a diamond kind of print socks. The carpet was blue with a small pattern in which I thought looked like a leopard print pattern, very discreet though. It smelt of paint. It smelt of a new building. Which it was. After all it's only been open less than a year.

I declined their input. Dr T said he would see me weekly, only yesterday I was told he is discharging me. I don't want to see him. I don't want to see anyone.

Dr T asked Beth what she thought. She said I needed a Mental Health Act Assessment. She said they had a duty of care, rah, rah, rah, rah, rah!!!!! Dr T agreed and they asked me if I would wait in reception. I said I just wanted to go home. They asked me if I would agree to the assessment and I just kind of shrugged. I don't have a choice. I don't want them turning up at my door with the police and get me on a S135. It was quite late and I think Dr T wanted to see his last clients and go home. And, he wanted to get my GP involved. So they said an assessment would be arranged for tomorrow and they would come to my house. I don't know if it will be Dr T. I don't know who it will be. They are going to try and get my GP to come also, as I think he is supposed to be the doctor that knows me. I was asked to guarantee that I would keep myself safe tonight. Again, I said I didn't have plans so it was fine.

They did the whole going in to the past thing again. Wanting to know what has gone on in my life and any significant events. I said there were none. I am not sure if those things that happened are significant enough to cause this. Why does it have to be an event that causes it. Why can't it just be the way things are. I still feel it's all very Freudian. A Psychiatrist I don't have respect for as quite frankly, he was talking rubbish. I mean, how can you take someone seriously who comes up with things like the Oedipus and Alexis Complex. Really?

I was asked if I was ok to drive. They wanted to call my Mum and I said she was out. She was, she was at meetings. I said I only lived 5 minutes away and I would be fine. I got in my car. Composed myself. Then instead of turning right to go home I turned left. I wasn't really sure where I was heading. I was going to drive around my childhood haunts. Go and walk up to my wishing tree. This is a tree that when I was a kid, my friend and I used to go to and we used to believe it had magic powers to grant wishes. It was quite a cool tree and easy to climb. I went back there a few years ago. But, I had no energy. I couldn't be bothered to walk through the rain, through the park/forest what ever it's called to go find my tree. Instead, I drove to the cemetery.

When I have been really bad and at a low point I speak out loud to my Nan. Hoping that somehow, if I am doing such a wrong thing she will somehow let me know. I decided I was going to visit her and my Grandad's grave. I haven't been in about 2 years. No one tends to go. As a family we were never one for visiting people's graves, after all only the body is there and their soul has (supposedly, if you believe religion) gone to heaven. So if you wanted to talk to them you should pray. I went to the cemetery. There were no cars in the car park. Being as though it was an area in which some of the rioting at happened (it hit my city the other night with police stations being firebombed and shops in the city centre being looted), not majorly, but I didn't want some yob seeing my car all alone and think they could just nick it or set fire to it. The latter being more likely as not the type of car you steal as it's a rust bucket and takes about an hour to get from 0-60mph. I saw another car drive in to the cemetery so it's what I did.

I drove up to the grave. I got a blanket out and as I sat down, I looked around to ensure I wasn't in earshot of anyone and talked to my Nan and a little to my Grandad. He died when I was one so I never really knew him. But my Nan, well, she was second Mum. I was there about 45minutes. I apologised and asked that if there was some form of afterlife, could she some how let me know. Then I asked if it was because what I had done was against the religion she tried to bring me up as (Catholic...dragged to church every Sunday until she died when I was 15 and I have not been back since), and was that the reason why she wasn't making herself known to me?

I don't know what I believe when it comes to the whole death thing. I would like to think re-incarnation. As after all, forever after as a dead person, is a bloody long time. And I am not sure if I like that. I mean what if you marry, they die and you re marry, and they die. If there is such thing as heaven...who are you with? Think about it? It's not exactly the best thought out plans is it?

So after that I go home. I really don't want to go home. I said to my friend earlier, if I had the money I would do a runner for a while. Hop on a plane and get out of here. Disappear for a while. But, all I have is a shit load of debt and only £60 in cash. Won't get me far or last for long will it?

I think I am going to be sectioned. I won't work with them, and I don't know if they will just let me go on my merry way. I fear hospital more than I fear death. I have already started thinking about how I can do it while I am in hospital, if they make me go in. I have hidden needles in my belongings. So, hopefully, if I am searched they won't find all of them and I have some outlet still.

My career is fucked basically also.

I came home and spoke to my Mum telling her what was going to happen tomorrow. She made jokes like asking me if she should make them all a cuppa and try and butter them up. Me, I think make them a cuppa and put chloroform in it so I can do a runner. Didn't say this out loud though.

We then got talking about my Dad. She said that this whole situation had made her realise she was always being defensive about me and my brothers and she didn't like feeling like that. I agreed. He is hard work. So I came out with it and asked if they were going to break up. She said it was looking like that. She doesn't want to lead the rest of her life feeling defensive around my Dad. I just said I had seen it coming for a long time now and was surprised she lasted this long. I do worry about my Dad though. As much as I can't stand to be around him at times and I would hate for him to be here now. I don't think he could cope on his own.

I asked if she had thought about practicalities and she said she had. I asked what would happen to the house we live in now. She said she couldn't afford to run it on her own as it's a big house and the bills are large etc. So we talked about if it remained amicable would my Dad support her still in living in the house. It's a possibility. Also, there are2 very similar houses for sale on my road already. They are only on the market for about £400,000 and so is not a good time to sell as they are worth more than that. So, maybe we could stay here and my Dad would move to one of his houses that he owns. If they do split I hope it remains amicable between them.

So that's been my day. I think tomorrow I am going to end up in hospital. I am scared.

I have one friend telling me to lie, and the other telling me she thinks it may be for the best. I have only told 2 friends. I don't want anyone else knowing.

So, if I don't blog for a while. It's cos I have been put in a straight jacket and rushed off to be drugged up and kept quiet!


PLG said...

Best wishes!

Hope that you get a little bit better.

You won't be kept quiet!

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