The days drag by

It has been two months since I have been made inpatient in hospital. I am now under section three of the mental health act.

The mania seems to be under control with the help of medication, specifically risperidone, an old school anti psychotic.

I barely remember my manic days.

I am currently on a picu (psychiatric intensive care unit) and hoping to be transferred back to an acute ward at any point next week. I feel like I am getting my hopes up too high as I have been told I need to be here for a couple more weeks.

It is a nightmare and I am living in hell.

Waiting for the gym

I have not been the gym in months and thanks to a hit of mania I am feeling quite motivated.

Currently I am in hospital on section 3 of the mental health act, with no leave other than OT gym leave.

Today someone is coming to assess me for the gym and then I’m hoping tomorrow I will be able to hit the gym for the first time in months which greatly helps my mental health.

As the days go on I feel myself getting better and the mania subsiding but I am still up in the clouds most days.

I spent 9 hours locked in seclusion but thankfully I am passed that point of crisis and I am headed for the gym tomorrow.

I develop self harming habits

I cut once to punish myself for sleeping around. Then I continued to cut because I thought it would help even though it doesn’t.

I punched myself in the face once because I felt ugly. Then I continued to punch myself in the face because I thought it would help even though it doesn’t. Ok, that’s a lie, it helps to some extent.

I tied a ligature around my neck because I didn’t have the right equipment to hang myself with. Now I have developed a problem of needing to tie things around my neck and each time it becomes tighter and tighter.

I do not want to die. I want to cause pain so I can cry for my nan who recently passed away, but I have been manic for four weeks and I have not cried the way you would expect.

I do not like being trapped

Currently I am trapped as an inpatient in hospital on a section 2. I have no leave to go outside and I feel as though I am climbing the walls.

It is a no smoking hospital and I have to sneak ciggies into the garden in order to get my nicotine fix.

I went awol on my first leave and ended up at a random mans house in Manchester, drunk on prosecco.

I went awol on my second chance at leave and ended up at a friend’s boyfriends house, drunk on prosecco again.

I have been talking to a lad I do not know properly but when I get out of here I am going to his house and I am going to live with him where no one will ever find me.

I have been restrained and injected and placed in the low stimulus room.

Apparently I am currently manic but at the minute I am dosed up on clonazepam. I need a coffee to boost me back up in order to avoid the grief I feel of losing my nan. I want to stay in the clouds forever.

I have my tribunal on Monday in order to become an informal patient or to be discharged. I know I do not have a leg to stand on at this point and will probably lose my tribunal.

The end I am fed up

Passed crisis point

Yesterday was an awful day. I was flooded with thoughts of suicide while knowing it was only suicidal ideation.

In spite of knowing it was suicidal ideation I got myself to Asda in order to purchase five boxes of paracetamol. Amongst the chaos I picked up only three boxes of paracetamol. However I was only allowed to purchase two boxes at a time.

I purchased the paracetamol as a very false idea of a safety net. Just in case. I did not intend on taking them though.

However I reached a point of no return and began popping a few paracetamol. I felt fine physically minus a bit of nausea and my mum and dad ended up taking me to a&e.

I was on a drip for at least 6 hours, until 5 in the morning. It is the first time I had been on a drip and it was awful. Mostly because it was hard to get around and to go out for a smoke.

The reality of what I had done hit me and I started thinking it was going to be catastrophe. I was thinking the worst – what if I needed a liver transplant? I could not handle that at all and was willing to let myself die if it came to it.

After some time in a&e on the drip I was allowed to go home with my family. Thankfully after weeks of begging for help I have received the support that I need. Things are being put in place for me.

I have to ask myself though, why does it take reaching crisis point before you are given the help you have been begging for?

I actually asked for help

I am not one to ask for help. I usually act impulsively and go where ever my thoughts take me. I do things that I later regret. This has been my life for the past 6 years.

However recently my nan passed away and it has been awful to deal with. At first I was crying a lot and feeling quite dazed. Then the suicidal ideation kicked in.

However while I have experienced suicidal ideation before, this time it is so much worse. I am at a point where I am questioning if it is suicidal ideation or suicidal intent. I have no idea at this point. I keep brushing it off as ideation because I know deep down my family are suffering enough due to my nan passing, so the last thing they need is me going off the rails mentally.

With all that being said, today I called the treatment team I am under and asked my old nurse for help (my current nurse is off and is pretty useless on the best of days). I told the nurse about the suicidal ideation and my nan passing and she was really supportive.

I am expecting to receive a phone call tomorrow morning which will follow with someone coming out to see me. I am unsure if I am in a crisis so I am unsure if I will be referred to the crisis team at the minute. However I am glad I actually asked for help because that is what my nan would have wanted.

Why I’ve been quiet recently

I have not posted recently as I have been going through the hardest battle I have ever been through in my life. I am trying to keep myself stable but I feel like I am falling apart.

My nan passed away peacefully in her sleep in hospital. She was not in pain and had all of her family around her in her last moments. She had a few last words but one of which was ‘I have the most amazing family’. Truth is, I had the most amazing nan. She was like a second mum to me and helped raise me.

I wrote her a little poem this morning that I am going to read out at her funeral.

I want to tell you that I miss you

But I’d need to tell you so much more

I love you every single day of my life

And now my heart is broken and sore

I want to write about our ups and downs

And how much you always cared

I feel you all around me now

I’m flooded with the memories we shared

I don’t know if there is an afterlife

So I hope you’re with grandma in peace

I hope and pray that Pepsi is there too

And I’m writing this as a release

I know we didn’t always get on

But that doesn’t take away my love

Each day that passes is like a nightmare

I pray you see our strength from above