Day 2 of Acute Ward in My City Hospital (MCH)

 The tenses are all over the place in this. I am aware of that. I am trying to write about what happened in the month of acute and I feel that I need to write now as a distraction while I wait for the zopiclone and lorazepam to kick in. I hate it here. There are too many people. I know that sounds like I am saying really that I like having the attention. But that is a load of crap. It’s because I don’t like being around people. I can’t cope with being around all these ill people. I know that sounds awful. But I can’t. I am easily irritated. I know they are ill. But, I just can’t deal with it. Not when I feel like this also. When I am normal I prefer working on the larger wards. I prefer the acute/admission wards but now I can’t deal with it.


I keep trying to attempt. The staff ask why I would do that knowing I am in hospital. My answer is I know of cases where it has succeeded and there is always a chance that a check or two will be missed. I have read things in the paper before where people have managed to kill themselves while they are in hospital. So it may work for me.

I tried again this evening. I tried a different way. Well a combined way but my tools let me down and couldn’t get out of it what I wanted so it ended up resorting to my usual way. Failure! I never feel relief after an attempt. I always feel low. I feel let down. Why couldn’t I do it better? Why won’t it work?

I find it odd though that the staff were nice to me. They wanted me to talk. Is that how they should be? I won’t talk. I don’t know what to say anymore. Talking doesn’t help for me. I think I could possibly talk to Sam. In fact, I would quite like an appointment with Sam. I need to have my thoughts okayed and verified. Someone to tell me “it’s normal and it’s ok. I need to have someone to tell how I feel and for someone to say well of course you feel like that, you’d be fucking abnormal if you didn’t”. But no. All I get here is “take responsibility”. Well, I’m sorry. At the moment I just can’t do that and I need more. I need reassurance. And as I write this I realise I put far too much need and hope in one person.

I need human contact. A part from being restrained and my mum the only human contact I have had in the last month is the brush of hands as someone lights my cigarette for me. And, I have relished that contact. It’s weird. I don’t know I would say I have come to see staff in a positive way, but sometimes, I feel like I just need a hug. I’m not an over emotional person. Not really. Maybe it was the closeness I was getting with Vince before I came in here that I miss. The cuddles and kisses on the sofa. I have sent him away though. How do explain 4 weeks without contact. It’s not like I can get out of that one. It’s better for him. He doesn’t want a relationship with the neurotic crazy bitch that is me. On the plus side I think since last seeing him I have lost about 2.5kg in weight. So I look better. Woo fucking woo. I’m never going to get out of this joint. I can’t control the urges to self-harm. I know if they ever give me S17 leave I am going to attempt to do a runner. Not sure where. I know I’ll end up coming back. But I want that deviant course of action on my terms not theirs. I may not self harm. I think it will be a trip to the off licence and a few cigs on my own and then let the police bring me back and say it wasn’t on my own accord. That way they can’t turn round to me and say you want to be in hospital. It was what Finger in Ever Pie thought.

Short and sweet. My battery is about to die and for some odd reason we are not allowed to charge electrical in our own rooms. WEIRD!

Neither the loraz or zopiclone has kicked in. I need more!!!

Night word, any luck I just won’t wake up tomorrow!

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