Yesterday was somewhat fucked up. I went to see CPN woman and told her that I was not listening to a word she was saying, that I was ‘sick to death of her sounding like a broken record’ and that if I wanted to spend the night at the cemetery sitting in wet mud then I could. None of her fucking business what I do. So she starts the “in what way do you want to be with your son?” – in other words was I going to top myself… I told her the truth, that I would decide how I felt when I got there. My mum had arrived by this point and again the pair of them wankered on about me needing a safety plan for that evening. I got too fucked off and just stood up and quietly walked out leaving my Mum and CPN woman sitting there.
I got a text from Mum saying if I wasn’t in contact with her by 5pm or something then she would phone the police herself. What the fuck is so wrong with people that they can’t just leave me to die in peace? OK, I know the answer to that, if I really wanted to die I would take a hell of a lot more pills and not tell a soul. Anyway the text resulted in me going out and buying 30 loose amitriptyline and 15 x 10mg diazepam. I was feeling paranoid as fuck thinking people would be out looking for me.
Came home, took the pills, got my jacket on and bag in my hand. I was all set to go off on my long walk to the cemetery when something made me ring the CPN. I think it was the fear of the police, that they would come to my door and, I don’t know, kick it in or something and I would be caught taking the pills. Ugh I don’t know things still don’t mean a great deal of sense.
I spoke to CPN woman on phone and told her what I’d taken. She said she would either phone an ambulance or my GP and asked me to pick one so I said my GP. But an ambulance turned up and I kept apologising for wasting their time but they were really nice to me. My stats were a bit all over the place for a while but stabled out, the nurses in A&E were a load of bitches who kept making little comments to each other about how much of a “regular” I was in the department. Even the little guy (who looks about 12 but is apparently a doctor) was being a sarcastic cunt with his tone when he said “hello again”.
I was moved by ambulance to the main hospital because they said the amitriptyline could fuck your heart and I had to be monitored for 24 hours – really I think they knew that after forcing me to drink a full bottle of activated charcoal (the most vile stuff on earth) and putting various needles in and stuff, that I was physically OK. But moving me to the main hospital killed two birds with one stone and made sure I could be both physically and mentally assessed.
Barely slept, only got out for one smoke, asked the doctor this morning if I could sign something to discharge myself. She said she wanted me to see the psychiatric liaison officer to decide if I’m safe to go home or need to be in hospital. Well I must have seen their psych officer at least three times now and every one of them has resulted in a trip to the looney bin. So, I thought fuck that. It was just past 8am this morning and I said I was going out for a fag but took my whole bag with me. I just walked and walked until I finally reached the destination I wanted to be at and even felt calm despite being on public transport that I couldn’t escape from, my agoraphobia did me proud.
I phoned Mum and told her I’d left the hospital, she wasn’t best pleased and started going on about how the police would be out looking for me and all this nonsense. I told her I had already been missing 30 minutes, they knew my phone number and address, they knew which direction I would have been heading in, so I’m sure they could have found me easily enough had they wanted to!
So here I am again, seeing signs, looking for signs, trying to ignore signs. I’m still feeling a bit all over the place but I think that’s mainly the lack of sleep and the adrenalin kicking in at the same time. So I think I’ll go for a snooze then go and see if my GP has been kind enough to write up my prescription. I wonder if I will be put on daily meds now. I don’t think I could handle that, knowing I had to go out every single day.
So yes I’ve been a bad girl or stupid girl whichever you want to call it. I’ve ran away from the hospital so I didn’t have to see the psych liaison officer so I could avoid the possibility of being sectioned. I still have the fucking wristband on and the cannula in my arm. I just couldn’t chance him putting me back in the looney bin, I’m not that bad yet am I? All I want is to see my baby again.