Falling Off Motorbikes (and more fun).

First off I say motorbike but it was more of a scooter/moped but motorbike seems so much cooler and not as pathetic.

So I was in Thailand. It was only my 2nd full day there. The night before I had decided to rent one from the guest house I was staying at. I had never ridden one before. I took it out to go see the sunset and was fine on it. It was like riding a bike. I was a bit nervous when massive trucks overtook me and gave me a little wobble. But after a while I was going at the speed limits of the road having quickly gained confidence as it was so bloody easy. Before this I had only ever been on a bike of the motorised variety once. That was 6 years previous and on the back of someone elses...in Bangkok. But here I was in a tiny town a couple of hours north of Bangkok.

So on this day I had got up earlyish and decided to go around the temples. I gathered in my wanting to save money rather than hiring a tuk tuk for the day it would be cheaper for me to rent my own bike. And, it was a reasonably quiet town, nothing like Bangkok. It was scary enough being on the back of one never mind trying to negotiate the traffic of Bangkok on one. I had been to a cafe for the most disgusting food in the world. The consistency was like a runny jelly (for any Americans Jello) without the blobs. It was horrid but it was the only place open. So a little less than ravenous more just like hungry I set out again. I had ridden around a few temples not really looking where I was going. Just going for a ride about. I decided to go down one road that turned in to more of a dirt track. I slowed down loads as was a bit bumpy. I realised it was a dead end and knew I needed to turn around. Having got quite complacent on the bike I thought I would be able to do it all in one go. Apparently not. The turning circle on the thing was much wider than I expected (I thought it would be just like a normal cycle). There was a mini-van parked up and I thought "shit I'm going to hit it". So I turned the handle bars a little more and braked. I braked in the wrong order as my front wheel stopped and my back kept on going. I also caught the throttle at the same time. Result. Threw me off just in front of the mini-van.

"Crap the bike! I've signed a disclaimer saying any damage I have to pay for, shit shit shit"! So I picked the bike up and put it up right. "What's all that over the bike. I hope I've not torn a fluid pipe or something. Where the hell is all that fluid coming from"? I look down at myself. "Shit, I've ripped my trousers, these were new on today and I have not brought any other cropped trousers with me and I can't afford to be buying clothes"! Then I looked at my knee. "Oh dear, that needs looking at". "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, i just saw what happened are you ok"? Said the English raised Thai girl who jumped out the van. "Errrr...I think I may need some stitches in my knee". She looked "you need more than that girl, I'm calling you an ambulance"! I looked at my knee again. It looked as though I had pushed my knee cap in to my leg and displaced it. It didn't hurt at all though. She then saw my hand. It was kind of spurting blood from my palm. "Look at your hand, here put this on it (*handed me a wad of tissues)". That be what the "fluid" all over the bike was then. Oops. I looked over the bike and saw I had scratched it quite badly. "Shit".

"I'm calling an ambulance" she said.
"Don't you bloody dare, I know where the hospital is (I notice things like that as I am kinda accident prone) I'll ride there". She took the keys out the ignition.
"Not a chance".
"Not a chance you are getting me in an ambulance". I wasn't thinking of my injuries. I was thinking of the bike. I wasn't going to leave it there. I didn't know where I was. It could have been stolen or anything. I was also thinking what an ambulance would cost me out of my budget. NO WAY was I going to be getting in some ambulance.
"Fine, I am calling the police then".
"No, no no. I can ride there. I am not losing that much blood, really, I work with people who self harm, I've seen worse, look it's fine (*removing tissues and it had slowed to a fast pouring now. It was slowing. I was happy). Ummm, maybe I should go to the hospital".
"I am calling the police".
By now a few people had gathered to look at the stupid white girl. I called them SWG moments where I had done something that caused people to look at me and think..."ahhhh another western tourist, stupid silly girl"!
The police showed up on their equivalents of blues which was actually reds. By now they had moved me away from the bike and got me sitting down raising my hand and leg. I was sat at the top of some steps in the shade. Next thing I know the police man is taking photos of me. No "hello, what have we here then", no "how are you". Just snap happy on his camera. Nice. Nice to know that this whole debacle is being made proof of in their history.
"You need an ambulance".
"No I don't and I am not going on one, I know where the hospital is I will ride the bike there and then I can ride it back to the guest house".
*Laughing "no chance. We are not letting you get back on that bike".
"Pleeeeeeease" *like a sulky child.
"Ok, we take you to hospital".
"No, the bike, I am not leaving it. I don't know where I am. I am bad with directions and I will never find it again (I had actually lost my hotel the night before. I was in the wrong area, first I got the name of it completely wrong called it it Saaaaaaaun Baaaaaahn...so asking local Thai people where it was. Then to be told it was Buan Suan with the pronunciation having to be exactly right or they still didn't have a clue. In the end I paid someone to follow them on their bike...turns out I had been up and down my own road about 5 times...I was looking on the wrong side of the road).
"Errrrr. OK. We get police to take bike back to police station, will you please then go in ambulance".
"No, I am not letting the bike leave my sight". You hear so much of police corruption and I was kind of delirious by now.
"Ok, we take you in car. We follow policeman back to station. You can see bike in station then we take you to the hospital".
Realising I am not going to win on this one and they won't let me take the bike myself
"OK, fine"!

So I got in the back of the lovely air conditioned police car being really careful not to get blood on much. I would say anything but by this point I was covered. The police took me to the station showed me the bike parked and locked up. I could relax a bit now. All the time though they were taking random pictures of me and smiling and laughing at me.

So they park up at the front of the hospital. I am walked in by them. At first the nurse doesn't really look at me and gestures for the police to take me else where. She then sees that maybe, I could do with being seen to quickly. Either that or they thought "ummmm money maker"! I was led in to what was like a massive operating theatre but with more than one bed. There were about 10 beds. All of a sudden about 10 people ascended on me. Nurses and doctors from every direction. I was a bit unsure as to what was going on. They started squirting stuff at the wound and it was hurting like hell now. A doctor then came and talked to me. He said what they were going to do and talked me through it. I wasn't aware he was a doctor. I thought he was just some English speaking dude type translator guy they managed to find quickly. It was only after about an hour I discovered he was a doctor. I was so surprised. Here the docs see you then go and he had spent all this time with me. They numbed up my knee and scrubbed it out. They actually scrubbed it. It makes me feel sick thinking of it. I would have thought they would have got tweezers and picked the gravel out...there was a lot in there but they seemed to scrub it. They spent about an hour sorting my knee out. Internal stitches and external ones. No x-ray though. They then went to work on my hand. They scrubbed that also. They didn't just use saline either. They used some kind of disinfectant wash. I remember lying there looking up at the operating lights and they were covered in dust. Not just a small amount but cobwebs and layers of the stuff. Kinda worrying. The nurses were all pristine though. I wonder how many changes of clothes that they make a day as they were dressed all in white and it was white white. Definitely been using Daz!

All this time I still had about 3 police officers with me. Taking photos every now and again also. When I first got to the hospital there was only 2 of them but they called another one in. It was a woman. I am not sure if they thought I would want a woman there or if they thought..."lets get *insert name here to come and look how funny this whole situation is". I must have been on that table nearly 2 hours. I wasn't in pain anymore as of the anaesthetic but I was starting to worry about how much the hospital bill would come to. How much the bike was going to cost me.

I was told that I needed to have a course of antibiotics and they also prescribed me some painkillers and that I needed to go back to the hospital every day for 10 days to have the dressings changed and the wounds cleaned (like I was going to do that. My plan, go back one day, see how and what they do, go to the pharmacy and do it myself). The wheeled me out of the treatment area on a trolley bed and the police woman said I needed to pay and she would go and sort it for me. She came back to me with the price and said it was going to cost 1000BHT which was around £20. *Relief! So I gave her my bank card and off she trotted. I was waiting ages. I was starting to get worried. She came back and said she had sorted the prescription out but I needed to put my PIN in so that it could be paid. So I went off with her and the other two police men. I was the only foreign person in the hospital. Everyone else was local. I was being stared at by everyone. To make things worse I was being escorted by 3 policepeople so to them it may have looked as though I had done something wrong. I was also in torn clothes and covered in blood. A bit of a social faux pas in Thailand. You don't wear ripped revealing clothes and you make sure you look reasonably ok. I was still having my picture taken. They must have had over 100 by now! They then gave the camera to one of the locals and asked me to pose with the three of them. So somewhere out there is an awful picture of me with 3 policepeople. I wished I had got them to take one on mine, just so I would have the awful memory also. As much as I was worrying I couldn't help but see the funny side in all of this. After all this was me...Miss Accident. Miss Falls Over When Standing Up Right, Not Drunk/Stoned.

I decided to ask them why they were taking so many pictures. With a smile I was told it was for their boss so that they could document what they had done and what I was like. Yeah right!

The police were amazing. They really were. You hear so many stories about corrupt police in Thailand. About how they are unfair etc etc. But these guys were lovely. They may have been taking the piss out of me but it was all in good fun. I didn't expect them to stay with me. I thought they would dump me at the hospital, I would have to wait hours to be seen and not know anything that was going on. But both the police and the medical staff were top! How much time they spent with me making sure I was ok and that I understood everything. Ok, medically they probably missed quite a bit. I think here if you fell off like I did they would have checked things like my head and neck...(oh yeah I had taken the helmet off at this point also as it was making my head sweaty and it was too big! Clever aren't I, riding around on a motorbike with no experience of ever riding one and not even wearing a helmet) possibly sending me for x-rays to ensure I hadn't got anything in my knee etc etc. But I was happy with what I received. If I had any pains anywhere I would have mentioned it anyway.

So the police then said they would take me back to the guest house. Can you imagine the embarrassment. Walking in to your guesthouse with 3 police officers. GH Owner just looked at me and the police in utter shock. They had a conversation in Thai which obs I didn't understand. All I could do was apologise over, and over and over. GH Owner seemed really pissed off and not happy with me. I was quite upset. He said in a stern way "you pay for any damage, you signed contract". So here I am thinking he is going to con me here. This is another con I have heard of where they massively overcharge you for damage. So I was thinking this is going to cost me a couple of hundred quid. I am on my own. I don't know the country that well and I was starting to worry. He then said he was going to go get the bike which he was really pissed off at and did nothing to hide his emotions from me. After an hour or so he got back. "Bike it very scratched". I agreed and said I was sorry again and again. "You pay 150BHT".

"What? That is like £3. Of course I'll pay you that. I am so so so sorry."

I think he took pity on me. I think the police probably had a word also.

I went back to the hospital the next day to have the wounds dressed and cleaned. It cost £4. I thought no way am I coming back to the hospital every day for the next 10 days to be subjected to some kind of acid poured on and paying for the privilege. So as soon as I left the hospital I went to the pharmacy across the road and brought things like antiseptic wipes, inadine and dressings. I then went to the Tesco...yes Tesco across the road had a look around. For some strange reason I really like Tesco. Even if it is taking over the world. I like it. Sad aren't I?

It did become quite painful my knee. The guest house I was staying in had really small toilets and it was so painful going to the loo as I had to sit with my knee bent. To be comfortable I needed to have it outstretched. So peeing was rather painful!

I suppose I didn't really look after the wound properly. 3 months later once I was home I had cellulitis and the infection had got in to my blood. It put me in hospital for 12 nights and off work for a month as I was quite ill. I was quite lucky while I was away as only affected me for a few days at a time. It wasn't until right at the end of my trip on the last night that I became quite ill. I turned the air con off, had 2 layers of clothes on and all the blankets i could find in the room and I was still cold. The flight home was a nightmare and my knee was painful. I got home and I was ok after a couple of days. But the wound still hadn't healed properly so I went to my GP who sent me for an x-ray. Nothing in it. 2 weeks to the day after getting home I was admitted in to the hospital as my temperature had spiked and I was ill. It was my own fault though. I took my own stitches out and then was swimming in the sea, swimming pools, waterfalls and rivers. At first they thought some parasite had got in to me as of where I had been. But in the end they put it down to the infection. I was so lucky that the whole incident didn't ruin my trip and that I didn't get really ill while I was out there as I can't imagine being in hospital would have been a ball of laughs over there. Not that it was here but at least I had people visiting me.

Did it put me off getting bikes. Well. I decided I needed to get over my fear of them as I knew once I got to Vietnam that I would be needing to get around on taxi bikes everywhere as is cheapest way. So I rented another. Was it without problems? No!!!! But that is another story I will add at another time.

I just want to add here as a footnote. It may seem as though I was being quite prejudiced against these people. However, I had been to Thailand before and it does seem as though everyone tries to con you in some way and make money out of you. So that's why I was being over careful about things.

Muse muse and muse! And memories of the last year!

It's been a year to the day since my world collapsed. It's been a year since I actually questioned my own sanity. OK I know it's not great now but I was made to question it in the way that perhaps things had happened and I wasn't aware of them type way. Today it is a year to the day since I was thrown out of the house I shared with Gom. I left my home. I left my cat. My suicide cat. Gom brought him for me after I first tried to kill myself back in 2007 and I loved him so much but there was no way he could have gone with me as he didn't like other cats and just attacked them when they came near. It's a year to the day since I parked the car in front of the river and nearly drove in to it.

This year has been pretty pants really. Except the 3 months I was away travelling it's been a really crap year. Even when I was travelling though I was thinking of death and suicide. I've had so many emotions in the past year. So many negative ones. Not so many joyful, happy memories. I can probably count my happy memories that I will remember on one hand. I don't even need a whole hand. Yet, the negative ones. Well I need a 100.

One of them is kinda funny in a way and kinda worrying. I'll write it down as I didn't write about it at the time in my diary as by then I had stopped writing about the trip in the diary.

I was in Vang Vieng in Laos...anyone who knows of this place will probably know where this story is already going. Anyone who doesn't well have a look at here here and here (this is probably the best one though). Bare in mind when I went was rainy season and the river flowed slightly faster. I went on the river a few times. Twice of those were with a tube and the other times I swam or had a kids blow up rubber ring. In Vang Vieng places openly sell weed and mushrooms. Either as shakes or as pizza, tea, spliffs etc. I had been with my friend Raq and we did mushrooms and we were fine on them. We just laughed so much. Actually we laughed so much we nearly wet ourselves.

Raq went after a month of travelling with me and I had about 2 weeks left of the end of my trip. Knowing how cheap Laos was and how much fun we had in Vang Vieng I decided I was going to go back there on my own for the final bit of my trip. I had another 10 days there on my own.

One day I went out on the river and got talking to people and hung on to their tube as they went in the tube and I swam along. I decided I was going to get a mushroom/weed shake. It was an all in one. I had had a couple of buckets (basically a kids sandcastle building bucket filled with a small bottle of Lao whiskey which was actually rum with industrial strength red bull, which is banned most places as actually has amphetamines in it. So I got this shake. After sitting in the sun a while watching people do rope swings (see video) etc I felt a tad weird. I got over paranoid as the people I was with hadn't done anything other than a couple of beers. All of a sudden I was tripping. Not in a nice way.

 I knew I needed to get back to the guest house and I knew I couldn't get back in the river. I was on the right side of the river at least so didn't need to get back in the water. From where I was I could see the point where the tuk tuks drop people off to start the tubing. For anyone who has been I was at the mud volley ball bar/shack and they drop you off at the Q bar. It was only a few hundred metres if that. I was managing to hold it together quite well. I knew I needed to walk back. By this point my shoes had broken so I was bare foot. I had to walk back across the fields. It was a tiny path along side a ditch filled with water. I knew where I needed to be going yet my legs weren't really working properly. I was tripping also. I kept seeing things. I have a massive phobia of snakes and I knew that there was a possibility of some being around. I felt as though the sun was melting me. It was hot. I was also dehydrated and I was tripping and had no shoes.

I honestly thought that my skin was peeling off my face as the sun was so hot on me. I was scared as I was also aware that I was tripping and paranoid as of the weed. I was walking across these fields and I could see the farmer watching me from the distance. The path seemed to stop and I had to cross the ditch. I was stood there for what seemed like ages thinking that there was no way I could cross this ditch. It was only about a metre wide and not a big drop or anything. So the farmers could get around they had these wooden planks across them. I needed to use these to cross. They were little bridges. I was starting to panic. Luckily the farmer could see that I was in trouble and took pity on me. He came up to me and took my hand and helped me across these little plank bridges. Finally I made it back to where the tuk tuks were. It must have taken me over an hour to walk so little distance. I thought I was cutting my feet to shreds as of being bare foot and I thought my skin was peeling off my face. I finally got back to the guest house at about 5pm and fell in to my bed. I slept until 11am the next day. I woke up feeling a little groggy but otherwise fine. After this I didn't do mushrooms again for the rest of the trip. Well I haven't done them again since. When I did them with Raq it was amazing. We laughed so much. I thought I would be ok. It wasn't. It was horrible. I remember looking at the mountains at the side of the river and the colours being so vivid. Everything was so sharp. It was like everything was fake. It was not a nice experience.

I went out on the river a couple of days after this. But I decided I wasn't going to do any substances. I was having fun watching people hurt themselves on the swings and slides etc. I wasn't even drunk. I had been in mud bar again. I really liked that bar. I was going back down the wooden ladder/steps and I just dropped. All the way from the top to the bottom. Right on my arse. What stopped me going in to the river was the wooden pole which ended up between my legs. If I had have been a bloke I would have probably have been infertile after. I wouldn't have minded to much if I was pissed but I was sober at this point. I had only had one beer. So on top of the pain I also had the embarrassment of falling. I did decide to drink through the pain. The next day though I could not move. I could not lie on my right side and I struggled to even sit down. That was the last day on the river for me. I spent the rest of my time lying on my left side in bars watching F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

Vang Vieng was also one of the times where I had been on the river and smoked and drank a LOT of weed shakes. I was also very drunk after drinking numerous buckets. I was with Raq. We were on the wrong side of the river and it was starting to get dark. I couldn't get down the river bank to get back in to the river. Raq enlisted the help of a very nice group of people. It was here I started having suicidal thoughts again. Wanting to take advantage of the situation that could so look like an accident. I thought I would be able to get on the river and just drift and maybe drown. I kept trying to get out the tube but they kept shouting at me. I never told Raq what I planned that day.

It was while I was in VV that I started stockpiling the pills to bring home as you don't need anything on prescription over there.

Although I have written about VV here in a bad way. It was one part of the trip that I enjoyed the most. It is an amazing place. Not at all an Asian experience, except from the total disregard for health and safety which is a common thing all over Asia. But it makes the experience that little bit more fun. But everyone in VV has happy. 8/10 also have pink eye. I managed to avoid that one luckily. My injuries from falling down the steps were bad enough thank you. If I had have been in this country I would have gone to the doc as I couldn't move for about a week after falling down the steps. I also had a very painful neck. I just got on with it though and with the help of prescription pain killers, diazepam, and alcohol it was made a little more bearable. If I was here paracetamol just would not have cut it!

Anyway. I appreciate people (if I have anyone who reads this) are probably getting sick of me moaning on about my mental health problems. Well tough! Lol. But I will try and lighten the mood a little and write now and again about my travel experiences. Writing helps me when I am in a bad way. I don't always need to write about how I want to die, how I want to self harm, and general moaning to be distracted so I will try and write more about travel experiences and fun stuff.

So from starting this blog in a horrible way, I think I have lightened the mood a little.

x

Why Do We Do The Things We Do?

So why do we do the things we do? I keep asking myself the same question. I do stuff that I know will upset me yet you can't help but do it. I blame the internet. The things I have been doing

1) Facebooking Gom - I don't know why I look as his profile is private. But he has a picture on there from 5 years ago that I took. I deleted it on facebook as on my albums but still shows on his. I don't know why I keep looking.

2) Facebooking LD - Gom's new live in girlfriend. Again her profile is private. She has the most unflattering profile picture and looks a right mupet. But it's in the front room of the house I shared with Gom.

3) Looking up Gom on eBay and seeing what he has been buying. And then getting more upset when can see that he has been buying things for LD.

Why do I do it. I ask my friend Neve who happens to be Gom's mates now ex things about her as they used to do things as couples. She tells me stuff about them, stuff I don't wanna hear but stuff that I ask anyway.

Anyone got any idea on why we (or is it just me) does these things when we know they will upset us?

Please comment with your answers!!!!!

I've decided I am going to keep this one going and update it with the silly things I do that can make things worse. You know, types of things that make you wonder why you have done it....

So another one
A) Having an exam. Then looking back at your revision notes to see where you went wrong. It's too late. There is nothing you can do about it so why do you bother? I did this after a seen exam. So I had all the answers. After the exam I went back and looked at my revised answers and pulled up where I went wrong. Got my self in to a state as there were a few areas where I had forgotten to put which law was applied to the situation. Was in a bit of a quandary for 4-6 weeks until actually got the exam mark back. Turns out I passed and did quite well with 67%. A good exam grade for me but then beat myself up that didn't get just 3% more to take it up to the next level of grading!

A Few Truths - it may trigger people.

I've been working on this post for the past few days. It has been really hard to write it. I've not written it for people to feel sorry for me. That's the last thing I want. I have written it to try and get my head around some of the things I have been thinking about quite a bit recently. I am not in any way condoning what I did. I am not making excuses. I am not even sure if these have anything to do with the way I am and I am just attributing things. These things are something that has really started to bother me over the past couple of weeks. They are not really things I thought about before when I have been in a cycle of suicidalness, depression and self harm. Maybe part of it is punishment. Who knows.


Not sure if I will post this yet. I have said for a while that I think there may be a few things from when I was younger that maybe possibly have an effect on the way I am now.

I have an idea what may attribute to why I am like I am. I don't know why now. But maybe why it does happen.


There were a few things that went off when I was about 12-13 and an incident when I was 15. I have not spoke about them before as I worry that it will change peoples perceptions of who I am. So hence why I have not told the counsellor or anyone. The thing that happened when I was 12-13 for me is the one that I worry will change peoples perceptions. It affected the whole family and meant my family had to move house of something I did.


Can I ask you people. Do you think at the age of 12-13 a person is fully developed and can they be forgiven for something they did. Does it depend what it was (don't worry it's not like murder or anything like that)? In my eyes. When I was that age I knew exactly what I was doing. I knew it was wrong but I couldn't help myself. Yet, now as an adult, if I were presented with the case I would say that person is a child. Their brain is not fully developed, they have not developed a full moral understanding and can not be held reliable for it. However, on the other hand, if it was a violent crime, a murder, a sexual assault (like in the case of the murders of James Bulger) I would say lock them up! My values are fluid and will change depending on the situation. In this country the age of criminal responsibilty is 10. In other parts of Europe it varies from 12-17. I would like to know peoples takes on it.

The summer I turned 13 I stole quite a bit of money. It was £20 at first. I saw it lying there and I took it. I gave £10 to my friend who was my next door neighbour...I'll call her Ali. Between us we kind of got addicted to it. Over time it amounted up. There was a bowl where the money was kept in the kitchen. Just thrown in there. Not that that makes it ok. We would go round and take between £50-100 a time and go into town and shop. We didn't buy clothes it was things that we could hide from our parents. Things like nail varnish, make-up, tapes etc. We were sneaky. We used to make up dances to show them to get them in to the same room out the kitchen and then one of us would go in and grab some while we could. This continued for a while. Over time Ali's Mum found out. At the time we thought she was being cool about it as she didn't say anything and let us get on with it. Looking back it is as though she condoned it. It makes me think now what kind of parent would do that and even encourage it? It all came to an end. We got found out. We had been in town with Ali's Mum and we were walking back from the bus stop and I saw that my Mum's car was in the drive. She should have been at work. Straight away I knew something wasn't right. I knew that she had come back from work so something was seriously wrong. As soon as I walked in the house I was confronted. I denied it and denied it. In the end I admitted to some...£20.

The shit hit the fan big time. I was banned from seeing Ali. Ali didn't seem to be in much trouble over it. I was grounded indefinitely...in the end it was about 3 months. My parents put the house on the market and 3 months after we had been found out we moved.

The worst thing in all of this. The people we stole the money from were my grand parents. So not only was I a thief. I did it from my own family. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was pressurised by Ali. Maybe once her mum found it it made it seem ok.

 My other grandparent at the time was struggling for money. I often used to sneak money in to her purse. I adored this grandparent. My grandad (her husband) died in an accident when I was only a baby. I never knew him. But this grand parent was like my mum. I saw her every day and I cared about her so much. I loved her so much. I used to spend xmas eve at hers and new years eve every year as I didn't want her to be on her own. I used to stay at her house at least once a week. I was probably closer to her than I was my own mum. One of the things that hurt the most was how she reacted to me once she knew about the money. She screamed at me and shouted at me. She asked me if I had stolen money from her. I would have never have done that and it hurt so much being asked if I did. She barley talked to me for weeks.

Around this time is the first time I had sex with someone. I was 13!!!! I didn't really want to. I was kind of pressurised in to it. More peer pressure really not from the lad who it was. We did it a few times and I always felt horrible after. The worst thing is is I can't even remember my first time. I know most peoples first times are awful, but at least they remember it. There was another lad when I was about 14 and he was 16. He did kind of pressurise me. But at the time I didn't really think much of it and I am not overly affected by it. I wasn't at the time. It's only now as I have got older that I think about it and it upsets me.



The other incident upset me at the time. It went away but recently it has come back and bothers me quite a bit. I was 15. My grandma ( the one who I was mega close to) had died 2 months previous and I was really upset about it. To try and take our minds off it my parents took me on holiday. While there I met a few people as you do and hung around, did the club games etc. The guy who ran the hotel club games took a shine to me. He was ok, nice in a way and was nice to have positive attention when I was feeling so crap about things anyway. One lunch time he asked me to go with him to his office so I could help him write in english on the certificates. He could speak English well but not write it. While we were in there he kissed me. Things went further. I didn't say no. I didn't know how to. So I let him continue. I can't say we ended up having sex as to me sex is a mutual thing. It's both peoples enjoyment. I didn't enjoy it and although I didn't verbally say no I didn't want to. It was horrible. This man. He was 30. I was 15. I remember going back to the hotel room and crying and crying and crying. I told my parents I wasn't well and stayed in the dark room for the rest of the day avoiding him. That night while watching the hotel entertainment with my family he was presenting and he started talking about how he was married and his wife was pregnant. I also found out he slept with a girl a year younger than me who I was friendly with on holiday. She told me I didn't find that out on stage!


For years and years. I have thought well I consented. I am dirty, disgusting etc. It's only now, recently that I think about it more and more. I can't say I was raped, as to me that is not rape. I didn't say no. I didn't fight back. But I look at my cousin now who is the same age as I was then. And I think if a 30year old slept with her there is something seriously wrong with him. Why would he want to? The more I think about it now the more I get shit feelings about it. I don't know what it was. I know he couldn't be expected to read my mind but still! Or am I making excuses for my past behaviour. Am I trying to attribute the way I am now to the things that happened then.

It makes me feel sick thinking about it. I have thought about it quite a bit in the past but never really had strong emotions about it which I do now. I want to go back to how it was.

I have told a couple of people about these things. Only one person knows them all but we are not close any more and she does not know of the mental health problems I suffer from. Also she knows about them as I suppose she was part of it. No one knows everything and how I feel and this is the first time I have ever talked about it all in one go. I have friends who know I slept with someone on that holiday. I have never told them how it made me feel. This is probably because the emotions of it are all coming to the surface now.

It was after the money thing that I slept with that guy. Maybe it had something to do with it. The psychologist/mental health worker in me if talking about another person would say...

"this client had issues from a young age. She wanted to be a people pleaser and seeing that the money was making her friend happy and made them spend more time together was getting positive reinforcement from it. In wanting to be a people pleaser she went along with engaging in sexual activities when she didn't really want to. She admired her friend Ali and knowing Ali had also engaged in sexual activities she didn't want to be different and left behind. In her attempts to keep people happy and not upset people she engaged in further sexual behaviours when she was 14. When her grandmother died she was in a very vulnerable position and again the pleasing people attitude came out in her. She felt that in saying no the man would be upset with her and think differently of her. In her vulnerable state she relished the attention. Having body image problems and grieving she saw the attention as a compliment. Because of her past history of sexual engagement she didn't put any emphasis on the actual act of sex itself and just saw it as something that was done."



However about myself I think that I didn't really see the act of sex as an intimate thing. Being so young when I lost my virginity I felt that I was a slag. I told my self that I was dirty and was living in a self fulfilling prophecy. So I let it happen.

I don't know why these things have only just started to affect me. Maybe it's because I have seen so many different health professionals now that ask "tell me about your childhood". I have always said I have had a normal childhood. I can't blame Ali for anything as we were the same age. It's not as though she was an adult. It has affected me though.

The fact that I hate myself so much for what I did I try and make up for now. I never steal. I worry so much when peoples things have gone missing that they think it was me even though they don't know about the past. I do anything to get people to like me. I will drive miles out my way to do things for people. I will offer people things, I go beyond what is expected of me so that people like me. I am so worried that people if they knew about my past would have altered perceptions of me. I know I was young but it's no excuse really. I think it could possibly one of the reasons why I don't let my emotions show. I am the strong one. I don't cry, I keep it together. I don't do crying in front of other people. But I can't say that is a reason why. I remember being really young and being embarrassed about crying in public. I would have only been about 6. But who sees a 6 year old crying and think they are pathetic. But that is how I was. I always kept check on my emotions. But even when my gran died I tried not to cry. I don't like people seeing me cry. It's not because of how I look, I don't want people to know I am upset about something. I avoid confrontation if it means I may upset other people. I don't like the idea of upsetting people. Who does unless they are some sadistic person. But what I mean is if I have inadvertently upset someone I feel terrible.

I talked to Sam about the sexual stuff today. It was so hard to get out. I couldn't bring myself to talk about the money thing. But I did talk about the sex stuff. She said I need to think about it in context. She said I needed to remember that I didn't want to, I never felt comfortable doing it. She was talking about being groomed. Was I? If I had have been 16 which would only have been 4 months later would the situation have been different.

I said I didn't want to be a victim. I also said that it added more weight to the diagnosis they are trying to pin on me of PD. I have never told anyone before about it. Well I had but I didn't explain in detail. I didn't say I didn't want to. She said I could report it and she would help me. I said there was no point as was so long ago, I never actually said no and it was in a different country. There would be no way, no way at all of conviction. And I would be torn to pieces in court, ripped a part. That's even if it got that far which I doubt it would as of lack of evidence. And also the way I feel about it. I think if I was in the position of law enforcement even now one persons word against anothers with no evidence if I was on CPS I would not take it further. So I am not going to put myself through that. And, it would make me a victim. I haven't been for the last 11 years. I am not going to be one now.

I feel awful for actually having talked about it. I feel like I just want everything to be over with. I want to blank everything out. The only way I see that happening is death. I feel more suicidal than I have ever been. I do feel it's only a matter of time. I don't think I will talk about it with anyone else. It was so hard. I was talking in code about it as I couldn't say and then I asked Sam to tell me what she thought I was trying to say. She thought it had something to do with abuse. In the end after she had a general idea I told her about the event when I was 15 which led in to me telling her about the other ones. I explained to her why I thought I had not made anything of it for so long was because it was of the way I felt of myself. I wont be talking to anyone else about it. I can't. For now it will remain hidden. Sam has said she will come to the Clinical Psychologist with me. I may ask her to. I think I may also ask her to be the one who tells the CP as I can't. But this is on the assumption that it is something that is causing effects now. I am not so sure. I have only really thought about it all in the last couple of weeks yet I have been self harming and been depressed since I was 22.

The evenings are the worst now. In the day I am on placement and I am so busy I can distract myself. I am a different person. The person who gets out the car once she is there is not me. It's someone who doesn't have any problems, can hide them, is someone else. Why can't that person follow me home. It's like I am 2 people. I want to be 1. I want to be that career minded, motivated person. I don't want to be this person who as soon as is at home goes to her room, starts researching suicide methods, starts self harming. Why can't this person stay all the time?

Hospital - Pt2

So it’s Sunday night now. I have been listening to Evita. I love it. But it’s usually a bad sign. I usually only listen to it before attempts. Usually when drinking and I sing along. I can’t sing along on the ward though. LOL. Nasty attitude nurse is back on tonight. I think it is her 3rd night on the row so I hope she isn’t in tomorrow. I didn’t think she was in and I was telling my mum about her having an attitude problem. 2 minutes later she walks over with my drug card and puts it right next to me. I think she heard what I said to my mum. I have specifically asked the staff that they are not to leave my drug card by the bed as I have nosey visitors and I don’t want them knowing I am taking anti-depressants and diazepam. She just sort of slammed it down and walked off. I am worried she did hear what I said. Who knows? I suppose I will find out when it comes to meds later.



I am still massively wanting to SH. I think it’s because when they put the cannula back in my first thought was “bloodletting”. I think sub consciously I knew I would be and so I know now I will. I am not sure if this one will bleed though as I tested it earlier and it didn’t seem to want to so I suppose I will find out when I go downstairs. I am not doing it to die. Not tonight anyway.


(I have since been discharged so back to talking in past tense about what happened)


The woman at the side of me was really making me agitated. I really struggled to keep calm. It was making my urges to harm more but luckily as my mum had brought in my lap top that day. I spent a while writing and also listening to music. I watched a film and tried to chill out. Come 12.30am I was still quite worked up and asked to go off ward. I asked the attitude nurse. I was as nice as pie to her and at first she was saying how no one is allowed off after 12am. I reminded her that I was an adult and that it was not a psychiatric ward. I said I was only going for a few minutes to have a cig and just get some fresh air. I said I was aware there were weird people hanging around (I will talk about that in a bit) but I could look after myself and I had my phone, I would be right next to the security office etc etc. In the end she gave in and let me off. I didn't get narky with her at all and was lovely to her.

I did try the cannula to see if it would bleed and it wouldn't. I was quite miffed tbh. I wanted to let.

I did manage to get some sleep surprisingly. I think the diazepam and mirtazapine worked for me last night. I went to sleep at about 1.30am and I got up at 7.30am. I was woken at 6 so that they could put the IV antibiotics through but I slept most the night. The woman in the bed next to me did annoy me a bit but I managed to drown her out with head phones.

So this morning I got up and got showered. I woke up thinking I was actually at home. I also woke up feeling like I had had a load to drink the night before and felt as though I had a hangover. Took me a while to come round. I showered and got ready and left the ward to go call the people about my placement. I then went back to bed for a bit as was feeling quite rough. Come 10am a nurse had come from the tissue viability team. I was surprised it was that quick. I really thought it would be a couple of days.She had a look at the wounds and said although they were quite infected there didn't seem to be a big problem. The bigger wound was smelling again but I think that was as if the dressing they put on to it. But she said she was happy to give me dressings, to finish the course of antibiotics and for me to go home. I then fell asleep again.


I was woken up by someone from PM. I had never seen her before and felt quite wary about her. She hadn't read my notes really and didn't really know what was going on with me. So I was chatting to her for about an hour. I got a little upset but managed to contain it. I don't do crying in front of other people...unless I am drunk then I don't care.
I explained to her that I had seen Nurseman Mike a few times before and I was slowly being able to tell him things. I said I was scared of being totally honest with them as I saw them as a service who was only really there to ascertain whether or not hospital admission was needed. I said baring that in mind, I felt very closed off about what I will disclose to them. I didn't tell her about the removing the cannula end. She asked if I had done anything to the wound to prevent it healing which I haven't in a way but I have by not taking the antibiotics. Even in hospital I was not taking them. I was pretending to but I wasn't. Why? I was already ill. I know I wont take the ones that I have been given either. I don't want to lose my leg, I don't want to be in hospital, I hate being physically ill so why wont I take them. Is it punishment?

Nursewoman Tracey from PM was talking about meditation and all of that shebang. No way am I doing that. It's just not me. I was telling her about my main thing at the moment is the low mood as it is so debilitating. I feel that they go hand in hand and if I can get my mood sorted then the SH will stop. She agreed with me but she also said that there is some innate reason why I have turned to SH. And she agreed with the Psychiatrist (Dr T) that I needed some kind of therapy. She also said she would contact Dr T and let him know she had seen me. She suggested maybe having a Care Coordinator (CCO). I said I thought that would help quite a lot as I am reluctant to call Crisis team to have someone who I don't know each time. I said I really struggle to talk about things with people I don't know and it would be useful for me to have one person I can call when things get bad. One person who knows me and who I don't have to explain everything over and over and over.

We talked about the suicidal feelings and I explained to her how it was on constant loop in my head. I picture different scenarios, picture different methods etc. I said if I was presented with a method that would look like an accident, that wouldn't cause anyone else un-necessary harm (so no jumping in front of cars as the person driving will be affected, same goes with trains...get my drift) and would be easy I would do it. She asked me on a scale of 1-10, 1 being very suicidal and 10 being not at all where would I put myself I said between 3 and 4. She asked me what I thought I could do to bring the number higher and I said I didn't know. I really don't. I feel the only thing going for me at the minute is the course.It's the only way in which I can see a future.

To be honest talking to her didn't really help. I was hoping I would be able to speak to Nurseman Mike. I am starting to be able to get more open with him by giving him a little more each time I see him. I know I need to get something in place as I know I can't use him or rely on him. It is an assessment team not an ongoing care team. They just point me in the right direction, or if they feel you need hospitalisation arrange that. I explained to Nursewoman Tracey that it was a control thing at the moment. That me not making attempts and getting over carried away are because of my family. I took the opportunity Friday night to try and kill myself as there would have been no way that could have been proven as suicide and would have looked like an accident. OK, I know my family would be devastated if anything happened to me. But, if they knew it was suicide then it would be a whole lot worse. I saw that opportunity and took it. I have not actually spoke to anyone about it yet. I wonder if I do (it would be Sam I talked to about it) if I would feel different about it. At the moment I just feel really indifferent. Like "yeah, so what, not really important, nothing of concern, blah, blah, blah". I really am not bothered that I did it. Have I resigned myself to the fact that I am going to be the person to take opportunities like that?


So I was discharged from the hospital and I got home about 3pm. I am so glad to be back. The place was horrible. I didn't like the staff on the ward I was moved to. The whole hospital is dirty and grimy. There was one toilet on the ward that smelt to bad it would actually make me gag each time I went in there. In another there was a sample in a bed plan that was there all day. It was horrible. It was grimy and dirty. I have never really noticed before but it made me feel sick.


Why the hell do they wake you up at such an early time. 6.30am you are being woken up asked if you want a drink. The first day I was moved after I attempted I understood why they would wake me up. You can't expect them to see that amount of blood and just leave me. But the following 2 days. Why????


The food. It's so disgusting. The hospital I am in is one of the biggest hospitals in Europe. There are two really big hospitals very close to each other in this city and there are also many smaller ones within close vicinity. And the food is prepared about 80miles away and delivered to the hospital and then shipped off to the wards. So how long has it been standing for. Gross. I can't believe hospitals of that size do not have their own on site food prep.


The people. I met some really strange and really annoying people. On the AMU ward I was in a bay with people who had a good 50years on me and didn't make sense. When I was moved it was still pretty much the same but at least 3 of them could actually hold a conversation. I would go to the main entrance for cigs and it never ceased to amaze me at some of the people that hang around hospitals. Why does it seem that is is only chavs or scum in general that get ill. There were a group of girls that were always going out for a cig together, they were probably in their early 20's. They were patients as they were always in their PJ's.They used to go out and there was these guys hanging around them also. One of them even brought down his massive Alsatian vicious dog. He could not control it and I was actually quite worried when they came near me with it. You should have heard the language they were coming out with. It was shocking. And I work on psychiatric wards!


Next -

There was this girl who was about 36. She had irreversible liver and pancreatic damage. She was skin and bones, she had sores all over her as she had been in bed so long. And it was due to alcohol abuse. She was an alcoholic at 36. She was basically killing herself. She was being treated on a medical ward for the issues she had, she wasn't very mobile and generally unwell, but due to the alcohol. She wasn't even that bothered by it. It sounds awful, but even if she wasn't an alcoholic she had the entitlement mentality so I don't think she would have a successful person. Her best line was "it's really unhealthy them making us come out in the cold to smoke". She was more worried about the cold than the smoke. Lol. I know I smoke but I don't mind going outside. It's the law. It shouldn't be encouraged as it is so unhealthy and if I continue to smoke I will be a drain on the NHS in the future of the health conditions caused by smoking. She said she had tried rehab 2x but obviously it hadn't been successful. She was saying how she had brought a bottle of vodka in to the hospital with her but it was confiscated by one of the nurses. I talked to her a bit but she was a little odd also. I think the alcohol had killed a few brain cells there.

There was also this girl who was suffering pre-eclampsia, she admitted she was still drinking, she was smoking and just did not seem to have the same social airs that most people have. It really disgusts me to see pregnant people smoking. I hate it. OK, I have not tried to give up before but I would like to think if I wanted to become pregnant I would give up before I tried just to increase my chances. She was going on about what bad mothers some people were and slagging off the social (I kept my mouth shut here about my chosen career path). Sorry, but smoking when pregnant is not acceptable, smoking when pregnant, suffering pre-eclampsia, and the baby has not grown in the past 4 weeks in my books is child abuse. I really hate to see pregnant people smoking. It really is one of my pet hates. She then goes on to say how she is worried about the baby, yet she is there chuffing away on cigs. Another woman joined us who was staying in with her 11month old baby as they were on the wards. She was saying how there was this baby on the ward who as far as she was aware no one had been to visit. She said she was there all the time with her little one as she would not leave her side for long as she lived about 40miles away so she was staying at the hospital. She said that the baby was called Porche. Now the snob in me came out here and I immediately thought this is a case of a no contact order or something as not being funny but most abuse, neglect etc tends to happen in chav class families. It does happen in more middle class but in general it's more the chav class. Everyone then had their 2 penny's worth saying how they would never do that and it's awful and what a bad mother the other person must be etc etc etc. I am just sat there thinking..."this coming from a woman with pre-eclampsia, who has been told strict bed rest as her back waters had already broken and she was only 7 months pregnant but baby had not grown in the last 4-5 weeks, whose legs were swollen, who admitted she was still drinking and she was there smoking. She also made a comment which made it seem that a court order had been placed previously on her as she said something along the lines of that when her child was in hospital the social worker had called up and had said that she was not to be left alone with that child.

I have just spoken to my social worker friend about this and she said how unborn children can also be subject to child protection conferences. So I hope that this woman was having a close eye kept on her.

It really amazes me just how many people are in hospital as of drink related problems. I met this one guy who I could tell he had not admitted to being an alcoholic but he obs was. He was carrying around a bottle of vodka with him and he was being treated for what they thought was alcohol related seizures. The way he was talking you could really tell that he didn't think he had a problem. But you could tell he did.


Maybe I have a problem. But in comparison to some of the people I met, it's hardly a problem at all.


So today was meant to be the first day of my placement. I think being in hospital over the weekend as been quite enlightening. I am going to be working with homelessness teams with people with drug and alcohol problems. Bit miffed I was kept in hospital as was supposed to be my first day today and so I will have to make up a day at the end. I am starting it tomorrow now. I am sure I will have plenty of interesting stories once I get going with it. I am really looking forward to starting and getting my teeth in to it. The team I am going to work for sound brilliant and really relaxed and chilled out.


So that has been my weekend from Thursday to Monday. I have a couple of other ideas for blogs that I may work on soon and also I have counselling appointments which it helps me to write up and going to see Dr T next week at some point.

I know at the end of last year I wrote about being more positive and if anything I have gone the opposite way. Sorry. I know I am a bit crap. I feel as though I have let myself down. But I feel things are getting worse for me. Maybe it's having had 2 weeks off and I have been mulling over what happened at the beginning of those 2 weeks too much. Hopefully I'll pick up once I get in to this placement.

That's all for now though.

x

Hospital - Pt 1

I wrote the following while I was in hospital. I wrote a bit so will post on separate blogs...


As I write this I am stuck on a horrible ward with my leg being infected. I have been going mad and am going mad now. I shall start from the beginning. I think I am going to have to split this. But I am writing it in word while in hospital and I will upload it once I get home.



On Wednesday evening I became quite unwell feeling sick and having a bad stomach. I also noticed that my leg smelt horrible and was oozing through the dressings. I was just putting one on top of the other and it was still seeping through. I saw Sam Wednesday night and she advised me to go back to A+E if I felt unwell. The consultant had also said that from A+E but I was putting it off thinking well I am going back on Friday so it can wait until then. However, Thursday I felt no better and thought well I am going to have to go back really. So I drove across and thought I would be a couple of hours and parked up and didn’t pay as I never do at the hospital. So went to A+E and was seen by triage straight away. Obs were taken and they were normal except my pulse which was 120bpm. So I was put in waiting room and was seen quite quickly by the nurse. I stripped off climbed on to the bed and pulled the dressings off. It was disgusting. Was horrible. I felt sick. Well I was already but it just made it worse. She looked and said she wasn’t going to do anything but get the senior doctor as I had seen a senior before.

So I waited about 1.5 hours for the doc to come. He was quite cute actually. I hate it when you get a cute doctor and 1) you self harm so they form a bad opinion of you and 2) you only have a top and knickers on. Not the best place to meet cute docs. Anyway, he looked and he looked through my notes and said that needed to look at admission as had already had treatment for it and the infection hadn’t cleared up. I suppose I neglected to tell him as part of my on-going self harm I wasn’t taking the antibiotics properly. They make me ill and I suppose I was hoping for blood poisoning and death but quickly. But no. I know… I am rather crazy.

I got quite upset my main worry being that I would have to tell my parents I was in hospital. I didn’t know what I was going to tell them. The medical student (who was also a fittie but probably too young) suggested I tell them I had a UTI and needed antibiotics through an IV. So that’s what I told them.

I had to have the stiches removed from the wounds. Yet it was too painful. So I got to have gas and air. Now to be fair I could have bared it as there were only 5 stitches that needed to come out. It was painful.Very painful. But I had gas and air last time they stitched me up a couple of times. Now I wouldn’t want to have only that in labour as you can still feel the pain. But wow. It’s like you are really pissed and everything seems so far away. You think like you are pissed and you probably act like it. I think like I am pissed when I am on it. It’s quite funny. It does still hurt but it makes you care less. No hang over and as soon as you stop breathing it after about 20 seconds it all goes. I had it taken off me in the end as she had stopped taking the stiches out and I was still puffing away. Free drugs and highs on NHS. I love the NHS!!!!!!

So bloods were taken and I was moved up to the AMU ward.


I have been there plenty of times and one of the nurses even said “hello (insert name) what have you done now”? It was in a jokey way and she was really nice to me last time I was in and it wasn’t in a condescending horrible way. She was lovely. Last time I was in after an OD I couldn't even stand up. She helped me go to the toilet and get dressed as I was so out of it. And she was so nice all the way through. Some nurses are just so rude and business like with you but she isn't. While she was admitting me a couple of weeks ago she was holding my hand and just being really nice and supportive.

  In the mean time before going up to the ward I had told my parents I had a UTI and so they brought me in some clothes etc. I explained to the ward staff that I didn’t want anything discussing with anyone that any medical information wasn’t to be shared with anyone like my family as I had lied about why I was there. The HCA who booked me in asked me about my self harm and suicidal thoughts. I think he was asking out of interest but I don’t know. He asked how often I got them and I said all the time. I explained to him it wasn’t something that went away and I was always thinking about death and self harm and planning when, where and how. That most the time I could distract myself with things and they didn’t bother me but sometimes it became too much and that was when I self harm or attempted. Then he said as I was feeling the way I was they would need to get the dept. that Mike works in aka Nurseman (who I refer to him as on SF). Then they went on to tell me that I was not able to leave the ward until I have seen that dept. I kicked up a fuss saying that I knew they wouldn’t see me until I was medically fit which I didn’t know how long that would be. It could have been anything from a couple of days to unlimited like when I was back in hospital in July after the motorbike accident. I said I had seen them numerous times and I had been on the ward numerous times after self harming and attempts yet I had always shown wiling and come back after going off the ward and it had never been a problem. After a few hours I did see a Doc and he agreed I needed to be on IV antibiotics. And that I was allowed off the ward. Yay cigarette time!



So Thursday night was pretty uneventful. I was pretty ill but nothing really happened. The same on Friday. I saw a doc and was under the impression that I would be going home on the Saturday. I was told on Friday that as wasn’t a new self harm or attempt that I wouldn’t need to be seen by psych medicine (PM from now). I had actually psyched myself up for seeing them thinking about what I would say and what would happen. I was also struggling with my thoughts and distraction methods. Usually I will go out, write my blog, go on the internet, and watch TV. Anything that doesn’t require too much attention at first. I only had books and my iPod. I couldn’t really read as I needed to concentrate. And the music which usually helps was not working. I usually use music when I am doing something else like driving so I can sing really loudly etc. You can’t really do that on a ward. I don’t think it would have been appreciated. I had asked for some diazepam in the morning yet they were saying that they didn’t have any on the ward. I had been prescribed it by the doc. I love junior docs at times. At times not also…like when the F2 stitched up my leg a couple of weeks ago. But you can manipulate them in to prescribing what you want. So I said I was given Diazepam as PRN insinuating that it was something I always had at home. In reality I think I have only been given it on prescription a couple of times. Any way I was really struggling. Really wanting to SH. I left the ward to go for a cig and I was desperate. I picked up a paper clip off the floor. I tried to cut with it but it wasn’t sharp enough. I felt so angry. At myself and also at the fact that I couldn’t cut. So I actually decided I was going to have to call crisis team. I couldn’t distract myself and I knew I would end up doing something. So I got their number went off ward and tried calling. It wouldn’t connect. After all that psyching myself up and going through all the thought processes I had I knew I needed to speak to someone. After a while I went back to the ward. I had had some diazepam at about 6 but it hadn’t touched how I was feeling. It was about 12ish and I asked to speak to the nurse on the ward. I explained to her that I had tried to call crisis team as I was really struggling with the thoughts going through my head and I wasn’t able to distract myself. I said it would be really helpful to speak to someone from PM as I couldn’t speak to crisis. She came back to me about 40 minutes later saying she had found a bed for me on another ward. I think she thought as I was on an AMU ward that was busy I was being affected by that. Ok the person next to me was actually quite scary shouting at me and staring at me.


It’s weird. I work in mental health yet this woman was actually bothering me. I think it’s because I am not mentally stable at the moment and I wasn’t very well either. So at about 1am I left the AMU and was transferred to another ward.

Straight away I had a bad feeling about the ward. I don’t know what it was, it was the middle of the night but I just didn’t feel right about being moved. So that started the thoughts off even more. The nurse had left all my meds on my table. I considered just taking them all. But then I thought, “really what are 14 Mirtazapine and 28g of antibiotic going to do? Just make me sick”. So I had a better idea. The cannula! It goes straight in to the vein and keeps it open. I could bleed to death. And, it would be painless, quiet, I would just go to sleep and it would also look like an accident. I went in to the loo and tested my theory out. Sure enough it bled when removed the stopped. So I got in to bed. Turned my back to the corridor and pulled the end off. I put my iPod in. And drifted off. I felt my side get wet so I knew it was working. I started spinning also. I drifted off to sleep, or I think I passed out as I don’t think I would have been able to sleep knowing what I was doing. I had a few weird dreams. Come 6.30am I was being shaken by about 3 nurses shouting my name at me over and over again. They had come round to do tea and coffee (I’ll get to that in a bit) and had seen all the blood. I was being shouted at. I could hear them but I couldn’t quite wake up. I knew with them shouting at me that I hadn’t been successful. I could hear everything going on around me but I couldn’t wake enough. I was sort of pulled out the bed and on to the chair. They asked me why I had taken the end off which I denied. I was told to go get showered as I was covered in blood and left to it. My BP was quite low I think about 80/50. So think I lost a fair bit of blood. I think the blood congealed and stopped more coming out. So I didn’t get my way. I felt quite out of it. I went and got washed up, changed and got back in to bed and went back to sleep. I was woken again at 11ish by the nurse telling me I needed to drink something as BP was still low and I said I would but couldn’t face it. I was quite out of it. Went back to sleep and woke again at about 2ish. Nothing more was said. I was stupid really. I never thought how it would affect the other ladies on the ward. They don’t know it was on purpose. They said I gave them a scare as they said they spent ages trying to wake me and they struggled to wake me. I was still really disappointed that it didn’t work as really thought it would. It was too good to be true really. Maybe take a few aspirin next time so it doesn’t clot. Bloody hell the cogs are going now.


I thought I would be going home on Saturday but one of the nurses said she wasn’t able to get docs to come see me. So prepare myself for staying in. Saturday night was uneventful. I was told by nurse she had made referral to PM and they would come see me Sunday (today). I say uneventful. I have this thing about one of the nurses. I feel she has a massive attitude problem. I went off ward for cig and I was gone about an hour. I was talking to some people downstairs (these people will be covered in another blood) while having a cig and I didn’t really want to be on the ward and just wanted to take some time away. It annoys me.


Anyway. I came back on to the ward and I heard her really loudly say when I came back “that’s it, no one else is going off the ward now”. I thought how dare she. It is not a psychiatric ward. I am not going to do a runner. Surly I have shown that. It is an ADULT medical ward. ADULT. If I am allowed to go off during the day then what difference does it make if I want to go off at night. I am an adult. I can look after myself. It’s awful. I asked for some diazepam as I was wound up ( I know it seems like a small thing to get worked up about but as I said I am not very well so things are getting to me more than they usually would.). Before I went off the ward I said to one of the HCA’s can you ask the nurse when she does meds to get me some paracetamol, cyclazine and diazepam. She said sure she would ask. I got back and one of the ladies in my bay said the nurse has put your usual meds there if there is anything else then you need to ask. So I did. I then over heard the nurse saying “oh well, she should have been on ward when I was doing meds” and then came over in a massive huff as she got the meds out. Now with PRN I ask for it as when I need it. OK, I did ask for it before meds as I wanted it to help me sleep. But it is PRN. It’s the same with pain medication. It’s PRN. I don’t know if I am going to need it at 6pm when meds are dished out. I felt as though I had really inconvenienced her. The thing is she was just sat there gossiping when I came back. I know people say nurses do that. It really annoys me when they say that as I know nurses work really hard. But I knew she was sat there gossiping as I could hear what she was talking about. And she wasn’t doing paperwork or on a computer at the time. I know people are entitled to breaks and a couple of minutes rest but you don’t expect the attitude. I was really pissed off at her.

So Sunday. I was woken at 8ish by a nurse telling me to sit up and take meds. I asked for another diazepam. I wanted more sleep I woke up pissed off. So I went and got showered went for a cig. Came back to the ward and got back in bed. I was woken at 10 by the doctor. Yes the Doctor. So I was excited thinking “Yay, I’m going home”. He looked at my leg. And then said you are staying. And you are going back on IV’s. They had taken me off them yesterday when they took the cannula out and put me on oral. He then said he was going to refer me to plastics. The wound on my calf is still very infected and it’s not healing. Then he brought a nurse in and she said going to refer me to tissue viability. She has put the referral in but doesn’t know how long it will be before they can come see me. I think I will be in until they see me. I thought it would be tomorrow but she said could be longer as they are a busy team. I really don’t know what they will do. I am quite worried to be honest. I am worried they will want to operate to clean the infection out properly. If they do then I will have to come clean to the family about why I am really in hospital. I don’t like being here and lying to them. I have the feeling they know I am lying also. I have just said they are waiting for normal bloods and my stomach to stop being so dam pathetic and not wanting anything inside it. Although I have been able to take Imodium I have had a few problems. I hate telling lies. I lose track of what I have said and so it worries me I will get caught out.

Another nap. I wake up at about 4ish to see they have put another grave dodger next to me. She makes weird noises and is really annoying. According to the other ladies in my bay they have said at night she starts shouting. She was in a side room but has been moved back here on to my bay. I feel awful. I don’t have any patience for anyone at the moment. I feel quite bad how I am thinking about others. I just don’t have patience at all. I am not looking forward to tonight at all. The next blog details what happened next and my thoughts on hospital.

Today I Feel...

Confused!

I feel really confused. My head is all over the place. It's horrible. I have had the feeling for a while. I was told the counselling could make things worse before they became better. I didn't realise how much worse they would get. But I wasn't expecting the confusion that has come a long side. I like black and white, cause and effect. I like to attribute feelings to events that have happened. But now I can't. I can't do any of that. It has left me feeling confused and angry.

x

Letter to Gom - Pt2

I dream about you most nights. I wake up in tears having re-lived in my dreams what I went through last year. I don't know how I managed to hold it together. I did go travelling with a plan of not coming home. I was reckless. I put myself in situations that could have been dangerous to me. I got wasted on mushrooms and weed and alcohol and went swimming in a river. Raq was with me and enlisted the help of others to get me back safely. I just thought at the time, let me go. I don't care. I want to die.

It's stupid how much I still love you. There are so many things I hate about you.
You are so tight with money
You don't mind living in what resembles student accommodation

You wouldn't have the heating on when it was cold

The pants you used to wear. Old man boxers!

Having to plan meals out on a Sunday and then get really moody with me when I didn't feel like it that night.

You got angry over small things.

You are an old man who never wanted to do anything.

Routine!

Our sex life was crap.
What turned you on really freaked me out. I would try and change it so the control thing was more bondage like but what you like was just weird.

You thought wanking was ok when I was around - do you have any idea how much that used to hurt my feelings.

You never wanted to try anything new in our sex life.

I could never stay up later than you as you say you couldn't sleep knowing that I was going to bed.

You got mardy with me when I wanted to sit with my feet on sofa - having laminate flooring and a cold house anyway meant I got really cold legs all the time and needed to sit with them up. Also I was not like you. I could not sit upright and not move. I like to sprawl out.

Your lack of understanding or trying to understand about my mental health.


I am sure there are many more. There are things I loved about you also.


You made me laugh.
Our bed time routine of having a few minutes of talk with no tv nothing and going over each of our days. We would then spoon for a while and then both turn our backs to each other and get as far away as possible from each other as we both like our space when we sleep.

Your stupid little bets...how one night you bet me you would be able to sleep with a ladder from a bunk bed between us. I won. I can sleep anywhere in any situation.

Our stupid talk.

Little in jokes.

You were always quite generous with me. When it came to birthdays and xmas you weren't tight with my presents.

You got me interested in travelling

You were my best friend. I didn't just lose my boyfriend when we broke up I lost my best friend. OK I wasn't honest with you about the self harm etc. You knew when I cut but you don't know that there were over doses that were nearly everyweek. I lost your family. I loved your family as much as I loved my own. They were my family also. I was with you such a long time. I miss your family so much. I lost my cat. You brought my him when I overdosed for the first time. The first time that was serious and with intent to die anyway. I called him my suicide cat. I couldn't take him with me as he was a bit violent towards other animals. But he was a big softy with humans. He was a stroking whore and would go to anyone who would stroke him. He would run to the door when it went to see who was there and he would meet you like a dog does when you come home from work. He used to beg for food also. He was a strange cat and I miss him like mad.

It's quite hard for me knowing you have moved LD in now. I chose that house with you. I helped you make all the changes we made. It was my home. I hated the way you always used to say things like it's my house, OK, you owned it but it was my home also. I lost everything in such a short space of time.

I don't think you will ever have any idea in to how much you hurt me.

Remember when we were in Australia. We both used to have dreams that we were back home and we used to wake up relieved that we were still in Australia. Well, I have dreams like that now. I dream we get back together. In the dream I know it is wrong and I wake up relieved that it's not true.

I would like to ask you why you tried to stay in contact with me. Why did you give me money for my birthday when you were with LD. You sent me pointless emails and things up until recently about small things that I couldn't care less about or asking me something. I would like to think you were wanting to stay in touch some how. Testing the waters. I have been really strong this time. I am not going to chase you anymore. The amount of times we broke up and I kept forcing the issue and we would end up getting back together. I wonder if I hadn't have done if things would have changed about how I feel now.

I know we shouldn't be together. I know we were not right as a couple. I am too bolshy and outgoing where as you prefer the quiet life. Also you couldn't handle the mental health problems could you. You didn't understand. You never really tried to either.

I went from being a child to being an adult while I was with you. I have a lot to thank you for. I genuinally do. But I have a lot to resent you for. I don't think these feelings will go anytime soon either. I am sorry for the hurt I caused you. I am sorry that we lost each other. In a way I am sorry we met.

I think you will always have a place in my heart though. As much as I hate you at the moment I think a small part of me will always love you.

xxxx

Letter to Gom.

Dear Gom,

This month has been a year since we officially broke up for the last time. It has also been 10 months since I last saw you and about 10 weeks since you last sent me any correspondence. I thought writing you a letter would be therapeutic. Lets see shall we? You always said you hated that I wasn't honest with you so here we go!

I've done a lot since we broke up. I've travelled around Asia on my own, I suppose I do have you to thank for the love of travel as without you I would have never travelled. I fell off a motorbike while in Asia and 3 months later after getting home winded up in hospital as of the infection. I went on holiday with the family. The one that you were also invited on when it was all being arranged. You said you didn't want to go at the time. I understood why and I said I wouldn't go either. However, due to being ill from the infection I was coerced in to it as didn't really have any excuses as to why not. I started uni. I am finally going somewhere career wise and I know what I want to do and I am doing what I need to do to get me there.

Also though, my mental health problems have come back. The self harming is at it's worst. I suppose there is nothing holding me back. When we were together you used to get so angry at me for cutting and you used to know when I was going to do it, sometimes even before I did. Where as now, I don't have to show anyone my legs. I don't know if the depression returning and the self harm being at it's worst is related to our break up. I can't see that it can be really as we broke up last February and it only really started in September. Ok there were a few incidents after the break up but they were usually related to too much alcohol. I think the worst back then was when I had drank far too much one evening and then I had an impulsive moment where I ligated. I can't remember much about it. I vaguely remember leaving the bar and going up an alley way. I found a bungie cord and wrapped it around my neck. I must have passed out as I came around in the resus area at the hospital. I was pinned to a board and had one of those collars on me. They said I had tried to hang my self and then told me what with. I told them I was fine and that I hadn't tried to hang myself. I even denied the ligating. I am a crap liar though and my face gave it away as had loads of broken capillaries and I had bruising and rope burn where the cord had been. I look back on that incident now and kinda wished that had have killed me. I would have been dead if no one would have found me. I remember something about my sats being at 70%. Quite an easy way really as I would have just fallen asleep and never have known any better. They tried restraining me to the board as they said they were worried about my neck. I said ok but as soon as their backs were turned I had pulled every thing off and tried to do a runner. That got me a security escort. I suppose that was the closest I came really.

So how we broke up. It really messed me up. I suppose it would do to anyone. We were together 8 years. 8 and a half to be precise. I know we weren't without our problems and we had broken up so many times before and got back together. This time I didn't think it would be any different. It kind of came out the blue back in September 2009 when you said you wanted to break up as only a couple of weeks earlier we were talking of getting married. However, as things progressed I decided what we needed was a break. So I booked to go travelling. I honestly thought that I would go and when I came back it would be enough time a part and we would get back together. We had a lot of break ups where we got back together and I just thought this one would be the same. To humour you I said I would move out when I went travelling. Thinking oh yeah, he'll soon miss me and when I get back we'll be back living together. You went really weird on me. You kept shouting at me for no reason and you hit me and were quite violent with me on a couple of occasions. You had been in the past but usually I had instigated the violence so I suppose when you hit me I had asked for it. I don't condone domestic violence at all. I know I lost my temper with you on so many occasions and threw things at you and swung out at you. So on these occasions when you retaliated I couldn't blame you. Yet there were occasions where you were the one who started.

The first time was waaay back in 2006. We had been drinking and arguing but then you got really scary. I called the police as you were really scaring me. I hid in the spare room under the bed and you came in and dragged me out and started pushing me around. I was screaming at you to stop. I managed to get the door closed and locked on you and called the police. By the time they got there you were cool as a cucumber and I was in hysterics in the spare room bundled in a duvet. The police woman came in to the room and tried calming me down. They asked what happened and I explained. They said as it was your house and I didn't want you arrested ( I know thinking about this now seems stupid, why call the police if you don't want anything done. But you had calmed down and I thought that it could ruin our relationship if I got you arrested) one of us had to leave the house as they couldn't leave us together if it was a domestic violence call. Being as though you owned the house I was the one who had to go. So I went and stayed at a friends house.
A few weeks after the incident I got a voicemail left from the police on my phone saying they have looked in to my complaint and wont be taking it further as they didn't feel I was risk of anymore violence from you.

That was the first time it happened where I had not really done anything to provoke you. You did used to get angry and throw things when you were angry, sometimes at me also but it usually missed as I moved quick enough.

The next time was just before we ended in Feb. There was a period of about 10 days where there were a few incidents.

The first was when you pushed me and I went flying across the living room as I jokingly told you to move out the fucking way in a jokey sarcastic tone which you thought I was being serious. You shouted at me and then pushed me really hard.

 The second in this cycle where I was watching tv 2 rooms away and I could never hear you when you shouted from another room anyway. It used to annoy you but I can't help being deaf. You were shouting at me to help you with something. I was having a hard time of it over the past few days and was having low mood and grrr for no reason. When I heard you you started going mad at me as you had paint on your hands and you wanted me to squeeze some fairy up liquid in to your hands to wash them as you didn't want to get paint on the bottle. The way you asked me and the way I was feeling resulted in me having a bit of a strop and squeezing it really hard making loads come out. You then called me a stupid fucking bitch and as I walked behind you you elbowed me really hard in the stomach winding me. I was really shocked and upset and my response was to clout you round the head. So you chased after me then punched me twice really hard, as hard as you could in my shoulder blades. It meant I couldn't lift my arm properly and had to call in sick at work as I wouldn't have been able to restrain. I lay in bed that morning crying as of the hurtful things you said to me. You said I was being lazy and it was that I didn't want to go to work. You then abused me loads more.

The third was when you chased me again as I was running away from you up the stairs as you had swung out at me and you threw something at me as I was running up the stairs.

There were more occasions also where you threw things at me. I did consider going to the police after we broke up. But we had broken up and I thought it would have been more out of spite than anything. But at the same time if you could lose your temper like that with me maybe you would with future girlfriends. Maybe I should have done so something about you having done it in the past. But I always thought, who will believe me. I have mental health problems. Who will believe me they will think I am just doing it out of spite. Part of it would have been. Well most of it would have been but in the end I didn't.

So the break up. You had been acting really weird. You had been out the night before and it took you ages before you came to bed. The next morning you were carrying your phone around with you everywhere which was not like you. Your friends and family used to contact me to get hold of you. I knew something was going on. When you went in the shower you left your phone and I picked it up and looked at the messages. You had been in contact with a girl and you were arranging to meet her that night. You had told me you were going out with a friend. You had even asked me to give you a lift to go and play pool. I asked you who she was and you said no one. We started arguing and I said you could at least have the decency to wait until I went away before you started seeing other people.You responded with you are a fucking bitch, I hate you, I don't want you living here so if you don't like it fuck off somewhere else as you are not wanted here.

 I stormed out the house with his phone in my hand still. I drove around aimlessly for a bit and looked at your phone and gathered that you were arranging to meet her that night. You kept calling me and calling me on my mobile. I went to my parents and was sobbing on her shoulder. I hacked your facebook and hotmail and found that there was a few girls you were emailing and keeping in contact with. This one girl you were meeting that night you had spun a web of lies telling her things like we owned the house together and you were in the process of buying me out, that we were in separate rooms and a load of other stuff I couldn't really understand why you had said. I hacked your paypal account and transferred the savings I had put in your account for safe keeping back to me as I was worried you may not give them to me.

That night when you got in I asked you if you were still going to play pool with your friend. You said yes. I then said I knew where you were really going and if you were still going to go. You still said yes. So I told you if you went do not even think about coming back to the house. You went. That was on the Wednesday I didn't see you until the Saturday. I don't know where you were and I hadn't even heard from you. On the Saturday we had another argument. You got really spiteful and pushed me around a bit. I said I couldn't bare to be around you and then you kept going on how it was your house and that I should get out. In the end you asked if you could borrow my phone to call your mum to come get you. I still hadn't given you yours back. Why should I when you were arranging dates and stuff. I disconnected the land line also. So you called your mum.

Next thing I know you both storm in to the bedroom. I was in bed watching tv and you are with your mum with a load of boxes saying get out. Get some stuff together and get out. You said you couldn't be in the house alone with me as you were scared. What a load of crap. I felt like a psych patient. You both stood there watching me while I tried to put a few bits together. It was horrible. I said i needed to get changed and you both just stood there. I had to ask you to leave the room so I could get dressed. It was mortifying. I really did feel like a psychiatric patient. You made me feel so small. You really did make me question my own sanity. I wanted to speak you alone but you wouldn't send your mum away. As I went downstairs your mum said she was really sorry things worked out the way they had. She said how the family loved me and I said I loved all of them and she gave me a hug. I got changed and jumped in the car. I drove down to the river. Loads of thoughts were going through my mind and I didn't know what to do. I really wanted to talk to you. I was also thinking of just driving the car in to the river.

I called my brother but he wasn't available. I called my friend and she said go back. Get a few bits and get out of there. She knew that you could become violent and she said that I had kept going back to you time and time again and I should get some pride and stop. So I went back to the house. You had tried to lock me out by putting the key in the front door but I got in. I spoke to my brother and he said grab a few bits for the night and go stay with them until I went travelling. I knew by this point that this was it. I knew that I needed to not have you in my life anymore. You made me question my own sanity. You made me doubt myself.

I saw you a couple of times before I went travelling. One night I turned up at yours at about 4am really drunk thinking I still lived there. I had taken a few pills that night and was not quite with it. I was hallucinating and was quite out of it. You let me stay. The next morning you started telling me how I needed professional help and you thought I needed to be in psychiatric care.

I didn't really cry that much for you. I never cried in front of my friends and there was only the one occasion in front of family I cried. I was concerned about my mental health. The following week I was at work. It was on the Monday after the Saturday when it all happened. I was working on the psych assessment ward and I was having paranoia attacks. I was delusional. I was manic. Everything was going at a million miles an hour. There was no sequence to my thinking. I thought that I was a patient. I knew deep down I wasn't but I was having these thoughts. I was being paranoid that the doctors were really assessing me. I went to my GP that afternoon and said I need help. I want to be referred to psych services as I was concerned. I said I needed something to chill me out. I begged for some diazepam. I explained all that was going on and what I was feeling. The diazepam worked. It slowed things down and it brought me out of the manic state.

It was about this time I started to blood let. Not much at a time. Just more sticking a needle in to the vein and then letting it bleed. I didn't see this as self harm was wasn't serious. It was cutting that was self harm. So I went travelling and I was fine. I was happy. When I landed in Bangkok I could have cried. I never felt so free. So liberated. I hadn't cut since September. It was 6 months since I had cut. Then in May I was speaking to your sister and looking through her photos from her birthday and saw pictures of you with your arms round a girl. I knew it wasn't one of your sisters friends and had seen you became friends with her on facebook in March. I then realised this was a new girlfriend. I was so hurt. I tried getting hold of some friends back home but couldn't. I was on a night out with some girls I had met the day before on a tour so we were having a night drinking in Hue Vietnam. They could tell something wasn't right and I told them. They helped cheer me up and told me you weren't worth the upset when I had told them what had gone on in the past between us. I did cut that night. Well I started to. I was cutting and all of a sudden this thought came to me "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? DO NOT CUT OVER HIM"! So I didn't. I stopped. I wasn't going to chance getting ill as of infected wounds and even cutting over you. I cried and I cried though. They next day I felt so guilty. I was paranoid as I felt people would know what I had done with the cutting etc.

That night I was getting an over night train from Hue to Hanoi. I met this lovely guy on the train and we sat talking way in to the night drinking vodka. Nothing happened. I wouldn't tell you anyway and I am not telling you to make you jealous as I doubt you would be. But he was so nice. He reminded me not all men are dickheads. It was then I cut off all ties with you. I told you never to contact me again and I hated you. You tried calling me and calling me and sending me emails.

I was upset you had moved on so quickly. Here I was seemingly ok to other people about the break up between us and you had moved on and forgotten. Why should you be happy after how you had treated me. Why should you be able to move on and forget. I resented you. I hated you. For some stupid reason I still loved you.

I was told by a couple of different sources that your new girlfriend was VERY dull. I thought Raq was just saying that her being my friend and every thing. But when Neve told me also. She had spent quite a bit of time with you and LD (my term for looks a bit retarded - I can't exactly give her a nice name can I when she is your new bit). She said LD had nothing about her and really didn't know what you saw in her. But then you were an old man who was quite boring so you were probably quite a good match. From what I have heard it suprises me. It seems as though this girl has no ambition in life an lives for her job as shop assistant. Don't you want someone who has dreams and ambitions. Or is it just that. You like to feel as though you have the upper hand.


I saw you a couple of times before I went travelling. One night I turned up at yours at about 4am really drunk thinking I still lived there. I had taken a few pills that night and was not quite with it. I was hallucinating and was quite out of it. You let me stay. The next morning you started telling me how I needed professional help and you thought I needed to be in psychiatric care.




So the SH started in September again. Quite bad. The worst it's ever been. I don't know if it's related to you. I have seen so many different people. I have even been told being sectioned is a possibility. Seems you may have been right. You always did seem to know what was best for me. I think I should probably be in hospital. But, at the moment the threat of people finding out is enough for me to try and have some control over it. If family and friends knew then what control would I have. There would be no stopping me. I keep arguing with myself over it. My main thing is stigma. And people being aware of it and that it could affect my career chances. I tell myself and others like Mike (the psych nurse I have seen at psych medicine) and Sam (my counsellor) that if i was admitted then there would be no stopping me with the self harm. That it would get worse as I would have no reason to control it anymore as people would already know. I tell them it would send me over the edge pushing me further in. The thing is I know from having worked in psych myself that patients like me who I have worked with are the ones who end up on high obs so they can't SI. I know if I was a member of staff and we had someone like me I would ensure that they couldn't hurt themselves. It's stupid isn't it that I am even thinking of ways in which I would SH if I were to go in.
 
Anyway I will continue this on a different blog as getting rather long.
 
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