Tag Archives: lorazepam

00:01 – A pharmacy error (and still struggling)

11 Sep

I think it would be fair to say that I’m struggling a lot at the moment. On the outside I’m trying my hardest to appear ‘OK’… maybe even better than OK… I started back my part time home based university course yesterday and it took me the entire day to get through 8 short pages. Nothing seemed to be sinking in even though I knew the information was at a reasonably basic level. So I ended up getting myself super stressed out and wondering how on earth I am going to manage to do double the workload that I did last year. I’m doubting myself massively and I really don’t know if I will cope with it and we’re only two days into the new term.

Anyway, last night things kept building and building inside me, my head was full of urges to self harm. The urges are nothing new but my ability to fight them off feels like it’s lessening day by day. And the thoughts were stronger than just thoughts… there was no voice as such but the urges felt more like commands. No matter how hard I tried to ignore them they just got louder and more and more frequent. So by the time it got to bedtime my anxiety levels were starting to get out of control and I knew it was only a matter of time before I reached for my tools to cut myself with. As a last ditch attempt to get the anxiety under control I reached for my emergency Lorazepam and swallowed one down. About half an hour later I started to feel strange… my thoughts were all muddled and my body felt totally different to how Lorazepam has ever made me feel before. Usually I find it to be really good for anxiety without much sedative effect but my anxiety wasn’t calming down and the overall weird spinning sensation was probably making the anxiety even worse.

At the time of taking the tablet I did notice that it was yellow in colour and the only Lorazepam I’ve ever had have either been little blue tablets or little round white ones. There were only a few in the box though that had been cut from a strip and all I could see printed on the blister was the letters LO and 1mg underneath. So I just thought they were a different generic than what I’ve had before. But I just knew this wasn’t a normal feeling for Lorazepam and something made me go back and look at them again. The label on the outside of the box definitely said Lorazepam 1mg tablets but then I took out the patient information leaflet and it was only then that I saw the leaflet said along the top ‘Loprazolam 1mg tablets’.

So I began to really panic. I didn’t like how it was making me feel. Even though I’ve tried plenty of benzodiazapine drugs this was making me feel really odd like I couldn’t think straight at all. For the first time in ages I consulted some peeps on Twitter and if any of you read this – thank you so much for helping to calm me down! I remember being given one of the Z drugs a while back, I can’t remember if it was Zopiclone or Zolpidem, but it made me feel all disconnected and like my head was spinning and this Loprazolam made me feel pretty similar to that. Thank fuck I didn’t take 2mg like I usually would take of Lorazepam. So I stayed on twitter for a while, then decided to go and lie down to see if the spinny dizzy sensation would calm down a bit, put a relaxation track on my iPod and spent the next 90 mins or so battling a horrible panicky sensation. I don’t know if it was the Loprazolam making me feel like that or just me freaking out because I’d taken something I’d never taken before. Eventually I fell asleep.

After I got up this morning and walked the dogs I went to the pharmacy and took the box, leaflet and remaining couple of tablets with me. The pharmacist took me into a side room and sincerely apologised. The normal pharmacist is off at the moment and they have had a lot of locum’s in over the past few weeks. Somehow someone had made a mistake but the pharmacist said that Boots take this kind of thing very seriously and we had to sit and fill out a form so that they can launch an investigation into who dispensed it, how the error could have happened and report to their head office with what measures they are going to put in place so that it doesn’t happen again. They will also write to my GP to inform her of what happened. The pharmacist said Lorazepam and Loprazolam sit very close to each other on the shelf as it’s all in alphabetical order and that’s the only reason she could see for the error happening but she did make a point of saying that that was no excuse. She asked me if I wanted to be informed of the outcome of their investigation but I said it was fine. I’m just glad that the tablets I was given weren’t anything that could have caused me any major harm, it was lucky it was another benzodiazapine even if the symptoms that particular kind caused weren’t very pleasant. She then gave me the correct tablets and that was it all sorted out.

Then best friend phoned me and asked if I’d like to go to a little birthday party they were having for her new boyfriend’s little boy – it was his 1st birthday and I really didn’t feel like being in a room full of babies and toddlers but equally I didn’t want to be shit and say no when I always go to both her little boys birthdays and I guess if the new man is sticking around for the foreseeable future then I have to see his little boy as part of their family. So I went to the toy shop and got a little present for him and a card, came home and wrapped it up, then went out to the party at 5.30pm. When I got there the house was pretty full, there was at least ten kids under 5 and four mums and dads as well as best friend and her boyfriend. Then one of them had to ask me “don’t you have any kids? don’t you want any?” and I just didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled politely as I felt the anxiety starting to rise and said “not yet”. I hate it when people ask me that because I want to proudly say “yes I have been pregnant, yes I have carried a baby, yes I felt a baby kick inside me, yes I went through a very long and extremely painful labour and yes I gave birth to a beautiful little boy… just way too early and he didn’t survive” – the only reason I don’t say all of that is because of their reaction… the look on their face when they just don’t know what to say. So instead I just smile and say “not yet” even though I feel as though I’m really letting my little angel down by saying that.

Anyway I managed to escape after an hour and took the dogs for a long walk to try and de-stress again.

Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with the gynaecologist at 9am so it’s going to be an early start getting up around 7.30am. This is the first time I’ve asked to see the gynae since shortly after losing my little man in 2007. But I know my PCOS is getting worse, I haven’t had a natural period since I lost him and PCOS also plays havoc with trying to lose weight (admittedly the Quetiapine and Mirtazapine also don’t help the weight issue). So I think I’m going to give the diabetic drug Metformin another shot, I’ve tried it twice over the past ten years and both times couldn’t tolerate the side effects it has on your stomach, apparently this is the most common reason why people stop taking it. I don’t really want to take any more medications but Metformin does have pretty good success rates for controlling your blood sugars and that in turn makes it a little bit easier to lose weight.

I’ve always struggled with my weight since my late teens and couldn’t understand why as I ate relatively healthy and did a reasonable amount of exercise. Then at age 20 or 21 they diagnosed the PCOS which certainly gave me some reason as to why I found it so hard to lose weight. But then when I was about 23 I went on the Atkins diet after lots of research telling me that cutting out carbs and sugars was one of the most effective ways to lose weight when you have PCOS. Over the course of maybe six months I lost four stone (56lbs) so it was pretty rapid weight loss and I got myself down to a slim and healthy 9 and a half stone. Kept the weight off until about 2009 when I split up from my fiance then rapidly gained a crazy amount of weight over the next year as I comfort ate my way through thousands of calories a day. By the time I was sectioned for the first time at the end of 2010 I had gone up to 15 stone! I’ve lost a bit of weight since then, although not much, but I’m now about 13 stone 10lbs and really I want to be around the 10 stone mark so I’ve still got a way to go yet.

So I guess I’ll go to the appointment with the gynae in the morning and see what she suggests and if Metformin is what she recommends then I’m going to ask to start on the lowest dose the tablets are made in and build up from that slowly to see if that helps me to tolerate it a bit better. Then I plan on coming home and spending a few hours studying.

I need to try and keep myself busy and distracted at the moment because as soon as I let myself just sit and think I end up with a head full of thoughts and urges to self harm. And I really don’t want to because I’ve managed to go for five months now without any severe self harm wounds. Plus every time I look down at my legs I want to recoil in horror at the permanent and extensive scarring that’s all over them. I hate the sight of the scars on my legs they look horrendous even though some of them are quite old, I have very fair skin and they still look awful. The tops of my arms aren’t much better although the ones on my forearms have faded enough that I now feel comfortable to wear 3/4 length sleeves. I think people notice my tattoos on my wrists before they bother to look at the other side where the scars are.  I hate that I’ve permanently damaged my body and I truly do hope that I can find the strength not to act on these intrusive horrible urges but they are eating away at me and it’s starting to feel like it’s going to keep on getting worse and worse until I just give in and do it. But I’m not going to give in without a fight. Little superficial cuts I can deal with but no more huge angry permanent scars :(

On that note it’s now midnight and I’m up in just over 7 hours so time to try and get some sleep. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better and brighter day.

00:34 – Just back from A&E

22 Apr

It’s just after midnight and I’ve just got home. I text a friend and asked if they could come to A&E with me. I was hugely anxious and couldn’t stop shaking, I couldn’t even write my name on the form, my friend had to fill it out for me.

The nurse on duty was really nice and the doctor was one I hadn’t seen before. He asked me the 101 questions to determine how crazy I was then once he was satisfied I wasn’t suicidal they took a look at the damage. By this point the blood had soaked through all of the bandages and through my jeans, it was everywhere. Thankfully they kept the curtain round me so my friend didn’t see the actual damage.

It was the worst self harming I have ever done. Including Wednesday’s stitches I now have a total of 24 stitches in which is more than I ever have had in before. The A&E experience was one of the more positive ones, they were non-judgemental and friendly but also professional. I did accidentally almost hit the nurse at one point as she was trying to control the bleeding whilst the doctor was putting the stitches in but he went to put a stitch into a bit that he hadn’t injected with lidocaine and I almost shot off the bed, hands flapping. He was really apologetic though. After being stitched up and cleaned up and dressings and bandages on the doctor could see I was still really anxious and still really shaky. He checked my pulse and then asked to get the machine through that does the pulse, sats and blood pressure. My pulse was 126, BP 153/103 and o2 sats 97. So they could see I was really genuinely very anxious and the doctor went and got me 2mg of Lorazepam. [That same lorazepam that the doctor who stitched me up on Wednesday told me they didn't give out to people, despite me having had it on multiple occasions there before - so that confirmed he was talking shit].

I was treated really well, gentle and empathic. I have to go back to A&E on Tuesday for a wound check and dressing change, then back on Wednesday back for the last week’s stitches out and these new stitches have to be in for a minimum of 10 days due to the depth of the wounds.

I did tell a little lie to the doctor that my friend was going to stay with me tonight – anything to avoid being kept in hospital – and I am now home alone and the lorazepam combined with all my other nightly meds are all starting to kick in. I’m starting to feel quite drowsy so I think I’ll get a good sleep tonight.

At last I feel regret again. I do feel better for doing it but I wish I hadn’t done it so badly. I regret knowing they are going to be quite nasty scars. But it’s done now. I’ve been to hospital, it was horrible, I felt hugely anxious despite them being really nice to me, I’m ready to sleep but not looking forward to the pain I’m going to be in tomorrow. I can already feel the lidocaine local anaesthetic wearing off and the pain starting.

Do I have any more plans to do it again? No. Not at the moment anyway. Not even if it’s given to me as a command. I am bandaged from ankle to knee on each leg so I’m kind of running out of places to cut as well. I think the urge might finally be out my system.

Goodnight folks x

19:12 – The lid finally blew… and resulted in a trip to A&E…

17 Jan

[Warning - talk of self harm in this post]

 

Sorry this might be a bit of a rant and probably a really long post but my head is going crazy and I’m still shaking and crying. Today has been a day from hell and the pressure cooker lid finally blew off. It started off when I got up this morning and there was a letter there for me from the housing association from whom I rent my flat. They sent everyone a letter a couple of weeks ago saying there was evidence of dog fouling in the communal garden area and that they were going through a “process of elimination in order to find out who was responsible”. Out of the 12 flats in my block there are only four dog owners so I threw the letter in the bin and didn’t think any more about it knowing that I wasn’t responsible.

Until I got the letter this morning. The letter says:

Dear MCBL,

After a process of elimination I am led to believe that you are allowing your 2 dogs to foul in the communal areas at [my address]. Please note that dog fouling is an offence and, as a responsible owner, you can be prosecuted. The Dog Fouling Act makes it an offence for a person in charge of a dog who fails to immediately remove the faeces the dog makes guilty of an offence under the Act. The offence carries a fixed penalty fine of £40 rising to £500.

Yours sincerely,

Nasty Housing Association Woman.

 

I sat there reading it and burst into tears. Why the fuck am I being blamed for it? And it’s most definitely aimed at me as I’m the only person who has 2 dogs. I kept reading those words “process of elimination” and “led to believe you are…” and got so anxious. All I could think was that everyone in all the other flats must have been talking about me. Then I remembered back to a few weeks ago and all I could think about was this little ball thing that had appeared on the ceiling, just next to where the door is that opens into the communal area, I even pointed it out to my Mum and asked her what she thought it was. I said to her that I thought it was a camera spying on who was coming in and out of that door and it made me feel really paranoid every time I had to go past it to put my rubbish out. Mum said that as it was outside an elderly disabled man’s house it was maybe some sort of sensor if he had one of those personal alarm things. She told me I was just being paranoid. So I tried to believe her and then after a few days I noticed it had disappeared again so I just kinda forgot about it.

But when I got the letter today the same question kept going round and round in my mind. What was this “process of elimination” they had used? It couldn’t have been by going round and talking to each resident one by one because they never came to speak to me. And the whole thing feels horribly personal because my dogs are my babies and if anyone says anything bad about them I do get offended (and angry) :(

So I kept thinking back to that thing on the ceiling and tried typing into google phrases like “ceiling cameras” “ball shaped cameras” etc until I finally found a whole page of what I was looking for. Dome cameras they are apparently called and they look like this:

146

 

 

You can see the camera inside that one but because it was on the ceiling and the ceilings are around 10 feet high it just looked like a little dark ball thing. So now I am convinced that they secretly filmed everyone coming in and out of the communal area for a while and I do use that door quite a lot because it leads to a little path that is a short cut to the shops. Have they been filming me, spying on me, watching me, talking about me? Have I been the person (with dogs) who has come in and out of that door the most? I don’t know. I took some Diazepam because I was getting myself into a real mess and then composed an email to the person who sent me the letter. This is the email that I sent:

Dear [nasty woman who made me cry]

I’ve just received your letter about dog fouling at [my address]. You say in this letter that after a “process of elimination” you believe that I am responsible for allowing my two little dogs to “foul the communal areas”. I am sitting here in tears with anger as quite simply you are putting the blame onto me for something I haven’t even done.

[A ramble about the other dog owning neighbours who could be responsible but it goes on for about 1000 words then ends with...]

I have lived in this flat for over six years and in that time there have been many letters about dog fouling, people dumping rubbish and furniture and stuff and I can assure you that I am well aware of all of the rules. I am an honest person and if I was responsible I would be emailing you just now to apologise and assure you it wouldn’t happen again. But I am not the person responsible and your letter has now made me incredibly anxious that if future dog fouling is discovered then I am going to be the person blamed. You already know from previous emails (when I was making my application for a housing transfer) that I suffer from severe mental health problems and receiving a letter telling me that I’m responsible for something that I could be prosecuted for, has left me in quite an emotional mess.

I’m sorry this email is so long but I want to know (a) how you reached the decision that I was responsible (b) if there is further dog fouling in the future will I automatically be blamed? and (c) how do I prove to you that I am not the person responsible for this?

Thank you,
MCBL

So now I wait to see if she writes back and tells me they put up a hidden camera and have been watching me. I didn’t mention anything about the possible camera in my email to her because I want to see what reason they come back with to tell me how they reached the decision that I am responsible for this. I don’t think they have done anything wrong by putting a camera up to monitor who was coming in and out of that area, but it didn’t look like a camera and there was no warning notice about CCTV being used, and it was in my opinion a camera that was disguised. Again, they are probably allowed to do this as they own the building, but wouldn’t anyone who suffers from paranoia probably start freaking out a bit if they thought they had been being filmed without knowing?

So basically that was the final straw. I sent the email then kept looking at the letter over and over getting more and more wound up that everyone is talking about me behind my back; about how desperately I wanted to move out of here then became too anxious about it all and decided to redecorate to try and make this feel like some sort of home again and just as things were starting to settle a tiny little bit, here I am feeling terrified to walk out my front door in case I bump into any of my neighbours and I keep thinking what if they have all been told that they are holding me responsible for it…

By the time it got to about 3pm I was just a mess. I kept bursting into tears, cuddling my little dogs and telling them that they were still my babies even if nasty housing woman is saying bad things about them, the paranoid thoughts that they have been filming me and talking about me were spinning round and round and round…and… I just lost it.

Before I knew what I was doing I had a blade in my hand and had carved deep angry cuts into my skin. There was blood everywhere and two of the cuts were very deep and gaping open wide. I knew it had gone too far and I was going to need stitches so I just kept cutting and cutting until I finally dropped the blade, sat back and burst into tears again.

I tied a bandage around the wounds and the reality of what I’d just done began to set in. I knew that if I went up to A&E around 4pm then there would be a good chance they would phone the mental health team and I didn’t want to see any CPN’s or anything. So I waited until almost 5pm when the mental health team close and then went to the hospital. I couldn’t stop shaking as I went into A&E, scared of which nurses/doctors would be on shift yet desperately hoping it would be one of the nurses who knows me and would just treat the wound and let me go.

A man who I haven’t seen before (he turned out to be the doctor on shift) asked me to fill out a form then he took me through to the treatment room with a nurse. I have met the nurse a couple of times before and she has always been really nice and non-judgemental. The doctor was asking me what I’d done to myself to have ended up with cuts on my leg and I completely froze with anxiety. I didn’t know where to look and just wanted to run out of the door. The nurse asked me if I’d self harmed and I nodded and stared at the floor feeling so ashamed of myself. She asked me to lie up on the bed and let her have a look. I couldn’t even look as I exposed inch by inch of flesh with words written all over me with a knife… and then we got to the bandage and out the corner of my eye I watched the doctor’s face change as he saw the two worst wounds. He kept asking me questions and I just couldn’t answer him. He said he was going to phone the mental health team even though I shook my head and said no when he asked if that would be OK. But he came back five minutes later to say nobody was answering the phone at the mental health team so they left a voicemail or something instead.

He started cleaning me up and the nurse went out the room. He said he wanted to have a little chat with me whilst he stitched me up. This consisted of him asking a lot of questions and me staring at the floor and not answering. I only opened my mouth when I heard the “assessment questions” starting – “do you feel better now you’ve cut? Are you going to do it again? Do we need to keep you here to keep an eye on you? Are you feeling like you want to end your life?” etc etc etc… I shook my head and said no, I wouldn’t do it again tonight. The nurse came back and gave me 2 mg Lorazepam to calm me down a bit, even though the doctor kept saying that 2 mg would “knock me out”… Erm… No… They calm the anxiety a lot better than Diazepam but don’t make me sleepy. Anyway he gave me an appointment card to go back up to A&E on Saturday for a wound check and dressing change and then the stitches will come out in 7-10 days. He wished me good luck and reminded me I could go up there and see them if I began to feel like hurting myself again. I tried my hardest to force a little smile and say thank you.

From there it was just me and the nurse. She put some glue and steri-strips on the cuts that weren’t bad enough to need stitched and she talked and talked and talked. Maybe the doctor asked her to because I wouldn’t speak to him or maybe she was just trying to be nice. I don’t know. But I sat there in silence and she kept asking me how I was feeling, what I was going to do when I got home, was there anyone I could go and spend some time with, was there anything they could do for me and after me not replying to any of that she gave me a kinda sympathetic smile and said that she knew that I wasn’t OK and asked me if I’d like to just sit and have a chat to her. I said thank you but I’d be fine.

Then when I had all my clothes back on and was about to leave she said “are you 100% sure you don’t want a chat?” and out of nowhere my mouth opened and the words started coming out… the letter… the paranoia… the voices… the dogs and how they are my babies… the pressure cooker… the disappointment people would feel if they found out I’d cut again after all this time of not doing it… this time of year just being really hard as the weeks lead up to my little man’s anniversary…

It all poured out but quietly and with very little eye contact. Standing staring at my feet and just rambling on to her. It was only for a few minutes but then I started thinking “what the fuck am I doing?! don’t tell her about all the head crazies… just get out of here!” and so I went from rambling quietly to leaving the hospital in a bit of a hurry.

How do I feel now that the lid has finally blown and I’ve given myself another few scars to hate? I don’t know. That’s the honest answer. In one way I feel a little calmer but that could well be the Lorazepam, I still feel extremely paranoid and the head crazies are coming out with all sorts of random quotes but I’m trying really really hard to ignore them and just hope that my head can quieten down enough so that I can get through this evening with no further damage. To be honest I just feel both scared and relieved. Relieved that the lid finally blew and I got the huge urges to self harm out of my system… but scared that I’m now going to start sliding towards the slippery slope again… scared that I’m losing control… scared that I am so adamant that no one will find out about this except from my GP and CPN…

Sorry, this was one very long ramble, guess I had a lot to get off my chest. It’s now almost 7 pm and I’m going to try and just watch TV or something for a couple of hours then take my medication early and then lie down in a dark room until I finally sleep.

I hope tomorrow will be a better day but I will no doubt receive an email back from the housing association woman and regardless of what it says I know seeing the words of why she believes I am responsible are sure to upset me again.

I don’t know what else to say…

[/end of rant]

 

12:04 – Another day of painting

6 Aug

Yesterday actually went past quite easily. I took a lorazepam just before my Dad got here and thankfully he decided to work on the bedroom and hallway so I could just laze around in the living room without being disturbed for most of the day. I took the doctor’s advice and spent the day watching the Olympics – nothing ‘emotion provoking’ and then later in the day my brother came down with a bottle of Amaretto for me he’d brought back from his recent holiday to Venice and a little Murano glass ornament which is really pretty.

My little Murano glass ornament from Venice

 

Around 6pm my dad and my brother went home and I had a night of just chilling in front of the TV. I feel as though that’s all I did yesterday but I think that’s what my head needs right now – not too much stimulation – just lying quietly half watching things and not really thinking too much.

It looks like that’s what I’ll be doing today. I’ve got up, had a shower, got dressed, took the dogs a walk in the rain and Dad is coming down in about half an hour to do more painting in the bedroom and the hallway. He is going to do the living room next weekend and hopefully by then I will feel a bit more like going out and doing something for the day. The weather today remains rubbish so the Olympics is back on the TV – Great Britain have been doing quite well this year – I really don’t like tennis but I enjoyed watching Murray win the singles yesterday, looked like a great atmosphere there.

So that’s where I’m up to today, just another day to get through and another day to get through tomorrow then on Wednesday I see the psychiatrist and will tell him how unstable I have been feeling lately. I was honest with my Dad yesterday and told him that much as I don’t want to walk the path of going back into hospitals or hurting myself, my head had been particularly crazy the other night and I’d had to see the out of hours doctor and get some Lorazepam. I think that’s another reason why he’s going easy on me and not asking me to help very much, just leaving me to lie in here and watch TV. I’m more of a hindrance than a help anyways so it suits us both.

My flat is starting to look much nicer already, I hope it won’t be too long now before I’m offered a housing transfer.

 

20:52 – Craziness ‘on hold’

4 Aug

After my last post I knew I couldn’t carry on feeling so unstable. It was getting far too dangerous and far too likely that I was going to act on the thoughts. So I phoned the out of hours doctors and told them that my mood has been very low for the past couple of days and I knew it was heading to a place I didn’t want to go to. The person on the phone was really nice and understanding and said I had done the right thing by phoning them for help rather than hurting myself and phoning with an emergency. They made an appointment for me for 8.10pm to see the out of hours doctor at the local a&e.

It was a male doctor I’ve not seen before, I explained the situation to him and he was a bit concerned that I was coming home alone and that if my mood carried on getting lower there would be no one here to stop me acting on it. I tried my best to reassure him that if I could just calm down then I would be OK. I just needed the racing thoughts and extreme anxiety to calm down.

He checked my blood pressure and pulse, both of which were sky high and he agreed to give me some Lorazepam. So he gave me 2mg at the hospital, 2mg to take at bedtime and a spare 2mg in case I need them during the night or something. He was actually very nice and said to come back straight away if I felt like the medicine wasn’t doing enough to help me rather than hurt myself.

So I’ve had my Quetiapine, Citalopram, Diazepam and Lorazepam. Everything is still racing but ever so slightly slower now enabling me to write all this down. Hopefully in the next half an hour or so I will be able to breathe normally again and my heart won’t feel like it’s about to jump out my chest and I’ll be able to think straight again.

For the moment my craziness is on hold, I hope and pray it calms down soon, I can’t handle much more of feeling this way.

22:55 – So the short version is…

25 Mar

(Self harm warning)

 

… The weekend has been shit. Friday I self harmed badly enough to require suturing. Saturday I was an anxious mess and used every excuse in the book to avoid having to go out and see anyone. Today I tried my hardest to be ‘normal’ around my best friend for a couple of hours because the kids were back from their Dads house and I wanted them to see “fun aunty”. The problem with being fun aunty was that I was also dealing with a head full of voices telling me that I was fucking useless and laughing at the size of me as I tried to kick the ball around on the grass. The voices got too much so I asked my best friend to kick the ball around with the three year old whilst I sat with the one year old on my knee just cuddling into him and trying to calm my crazy fucking head down.

It did not work.

I ended up cutting badly again. Whilst watching Dancing On Ice and crying because they were all good at something and me, well all I have is this head full of voices again reminding me that I am useless.

I had to go up to A&E tonight to see the nurse I saw on Friday night to have my stitches checked. She was happy it was all healing well and I have to go back on Thursday to have them removed.

Then somehow I ended up admitting to cutting again today and she asked to have a look. The short version is that it took the next hour to sew up the damage. The same doctor from Friday was on, she gave me 2mg Lorazepam to calm me down a bit. She gave me another two to take if I can’t sleep tonight or if I start to feel like hurting myself again. I don’t even feel as though I have taken anything because I already feel so numb with all the craziness.

And that’s been my night :-(

 

Hospital Diary 5 of 10 (From 1am on Wednesday 14th September)

26 Sep

It’s been an eventful night and a bloody expensive one as well. Earlier, I’d had enough, I cried down the phone to my Mum for ages and told her how suicidal I am feeling; how fucking miserable I am. Then the two girls who I share my room with both decided to go to the room next door because apparently I snore bad when I’m on my back and they’d had enough. Don’t blame them really, I’d have done the same. 

So as the day progressed I confessed about my self harming yesterday. Then things just went completely downhill.

I felt desperate and trapped and saw my hair straighteners were still next to the bed. I started by gently tying the flex around my neck, it was OK at first, just about bearable. But then I somehow managed to get the plug end tangled up and every time I made the slightest movement it got tighter and tighter. I could feel myself struggling for air and I wanted to just let myself go off peacefully. I was feeling really dizzy, I can’t remember if I bumped against the ‘call button’ or deliberately hit it but before I knew it there were staff everywhere. 

My pretty pink GHD’s are gone :( They had to cut the flex into so many little pieces that they were useless. Never mind, I’ll buy a cheap pair when I get out. The doctor has just been to see me and gave me two lorazepam’s but my head is still going a million miles an hour and won’t switch off. 

At the moment I’m in the bed closest to the window where the nurses sit. They went through all of my possessions and are now sitting there watching me right outside my room. I feel as though I only had to make one little mistake now and they’ll put me up in that prison/icu locked away from the world. 

I am not tired.

My brain is going way too fast.

I’m not allowed to go and sit in the TV room.

I’m being watched constantly.

I need my little one and he needs me. In my eyes that’s the end of discussion. I’m in a room, a big room, all alone, so lonely and empty. Rather like how I feel on the inside. I hate this room just like I hate all of this non stop pain. I hate that I made another ‘unsuccessful’ attempt.

Right now I hate everything and everyone. Mostly myself.

Protected: 13:55 – Visit to the GP

11 Sep

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