Last week I was told by my doctor that I’d be out by half way through the next week; it didn’t happen. I’m two days short of five weeks in here and it doesn’t look like I’ll be going home any time soon. The last six days have been very hard for me, my medication keeps getting changed, nothing drastic, just dose and time-of-day alterations but they’re really messing with me. Medication isn’t solely to blame though; I can’t see any light at the end of this massive tunnel I’m in, so I don’t even try to help myself move through it. If the tunnel never ends why not just sit and paint the walls?
Painting the walls is pretty much what I have been doing and why I’m not getting out of here soon – I am in fact lucky that I haven’t been transferred to a non-voluntary hospital. Avoidance of said hospital is my prime motivator in the task to stop painting the tunnel. Perhaps this tunnel analogy is wearing thin and becoming a little Freudian, but meh I can’t be bothered re-writing.
I made it to church this week, my taxi was only 20 minutes late, even though I ordered it two hours in advance. I got a lift home from a lovely church lady and her daughter. This week’s service was a healing service. I decided to go up for prayer; I’ve always been sceptical about God healing people physically in this age. But the God of the bible is the same God we have today, the speaker emphasised that it is the faith of those praying, not the faith of the one needing the healing that was important. The story of the Centurion with the sick servant was used to back up this idea. Anyway, nothing happened for me there, or in the following days. Everything continued to get worse and my suicidal thoughts increased a lot. I got it in to my head last night that perhaps God had chosen to heal me by letting me die and be with him - totally unsound theology I know. I maintain that I don’t want my last act on earth to be a sin, that sin being murder of self. I do not belong to me, I belong to Christ and by committing suicide I’d be stealing from him, kind of....
Tomorrow two of the three girls I’ve made friends with in here are leaving. Neither of them is better but they are better-er than when they came in, I will miss having them to chat with. I will definitely keep in touch with one girl - I will call her L, the other I’m not too sure about. The remaining girl I will call B, she will be here for a while yet, her situation is complex and awful for her. I’m glad I’ll still have her company though. Hopefully she’ll be granted leave soon so we can go out for coffee together. On my coffee walk today I found a second-hand clothing shop specialising in high end fashion, like stuff you’d pay several hundred for new. Some of it was still very expensive, but some not too bad, and all in excellent condition. I didn’t buy anything, but there was a jacket which caught my eye...
I seem to have lost a day this week, there are some events I just can’t place and everything feels wrong. I have to keep checking that it is in fact Thursday. I think it’s Monday that my mind has erased, I’ve just now realised why, that’s the day I was highly agitated and not quite here. Tuesday was a little better and I went for my usual coffee walk and bought myself some flowers – for the second time since I’ve been here. Visitors seem to have decided that people in psych hospitals don’t deserve as many flowers as people in normal hospitals. Although my friends are mostly poor and flowers aren’t cheap, so I suppose I can forgive them.
Bye for now, come visit me, get details by pm’ing me through facebook.
K
There are all sorts of platitudes that could be said here, so I won't say any of them, except that I am humbled by your honesty and encouraged by your faith in a dark, dark time. I pray that God will keep revealing himself to you and drawing you close, and I thank him that he has preserved you. Keep writing.
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