I posted earlier about whether or not to go to a&e for a wound check. I decided it was best to get it checked rather than just leaving it. So I went to a&e, waited 20 minutes whilst the three nurses sat in the room next to the waiting room, listened to their phonecall about some kind of audit that they had on speaker-phone, and then was called through.
It was the senior charge nurse who called me in. I recognised her face and said I thought we had met before. She said yes we had. She asked what the problem was and I told her I was concerned that part of my wound had become infected. She had a look at it, I saw her rolling her eyes out the corner of my eye at the mess of my legs, she was really quite unpleasant in her manner now that I think about it. Anyway, she told me it looked like it had the ‘potential’ for infection and to regularly clean it and change the dressings daily. She commented that I was going to have a big scar because the skin is gaping open a bit, then looked at some of the other big scars on my leg, pointed to one, and said “like that”.
I got some more dressing pads and said thank you to her for looking at it and got up to leave. She was just looking at me in this really weird way that makes me think that as I can’t remember what I actually saw her for the last time she saw me, then I must have been a complete pain in the backside that time. Either that or she is just shit when it comes to anything mental health.
After the hospital I met a friend for a while and we went to another friends house and I fucked about with his laptop for a while getting it hooked up to the TV.
Then I came home.
Since the moment I walked through the door I’ve been feeling like I’m losing it. The voices are very loud and feel very controlling tonight. I am trying every distraction technique I can think of but end up just pacing around the room restlessly. I think I’m going to crack open a bottle of wine and see if that helps with a couple of diazepam. I really shouldn’t drink again tonight, this is the third night in a row.
My Mum sent me a text message to say she has taken time off work on Thursday so she is coming to the CPA meeting. I don’t want to go to it but I think I have to. I need to ask the psychiatrist for a Quetiapine increase. I need to tell them how unsupported I feel right now (even though this means having the lecture on me not attending my appointments).
When the nurse at a&e phoned the CMHT to see if someone could get in contact with me, it took the CMHT from the Sunday night until the Thursday at 5pm to actually get in contact with me. And that was only because the nurse called them for a second time.
When I spoke to my social worker late Friday afternoon I told her I felt unsupported at the moment and she said she would email the support workers section and ask if I could see a support worker for a couple of weeks until I start seeing my new CPN. Surprisingly enough I have not heard from them. I’m guessing I probably won’t hear from anyone, I will just have this bloody meeting on Thursday then be left to wait on my new CPN starting.
I think I am losing it. And I don’t think anyone really gives a damn. On Thursday everyone at this stupid meeting will be able to hear the voices, those of Satan ridiculing me, they will all laugh no doubt. Right now all I can think about is self harming, I have crazy strong urges to do serious damage to myself, is this because I know I can’t go back to that hospital again so will have no choice but to leave myself with some really ugly scarring? Or is this just because I know I am pathetic and revolting and need to put some of that revolt on the outside?
Does it even matter?…
I’m losing it. I swear I’m losing the fucking plot. Time to open that wine and try to escape from this madness.