Circadin

I got the last appointment with my GP last night, I’m probably not who she would like to be her final patient for the day – I tend to take a lot of time. She got the honour of explaining nerve damage to me and advising where to avoid cutting, she wrote a silly list of reasons not to take another overdose, and put my arm back together – how on earth am I supposed to keep it dry for a week! I’m going to have a big scar, this makes me sad because I don’t like scars, I just want the temporary sight of flesh and blood, not a lifelong reminder that I’m nuts. I mentioned the overdose – I’m extremely tempted to do it again, which is insane; I hated it, I felt disgusting for a week and it’s very embarrassing calling an ambulance for yourself, yet when I woke up I felt completely different to when I fell asleep, 20 hours had passed and I was a new girl. If I do it again I have two friends who may not speak to me again because I’d be a bad influence on them and I suppose you don’t want to be close to someone who might die. If I do it again, and I wake up I won’t be able to tell anyone. I can’t live without these two friends, they get me, they make time for me and they both really like me – it’s hard for me to believe anyone really likes me, they’re just putting up with me because I’m there. I don’t want to take the overdose and I don’t want to lie, hopefully that’s enough to stop me being impulsive. My GP was playing with the idea of another admission but I was adamant that I’m not going back to my local hospital and definitely not to the other one with the awful psych triage nurse. I hope the new psychiatrist accepts me as a patient, then I have a private hospital I can get into easily; it’s not the most glamorous one around, but at least they have cleaners, the place isn’t falling apart and there are plenty of therapy groups. I understand my current psychiatrists non-admission policy, I can see myself giving up completely and becoming even more of a ghost with a long admission; I’ve already lost most hope of getting better, maybe life would pass quicker and easier if I was contained and highly drugged; but I haven’t lost all hope for recovery, I haven’t killed myself yet, the glimmer of hope and fear of consequences have kept me here. Something has to change; I can’t carry on like this.

I have a new drug – Circadin – to help me sleep, it’s just a massive dose of melatonin in slow release form but hopefully it will start to work, it didn’t do the job last night, three hours sleep and annoyingly realistic dreams, it took me until 2pm this afternoon to work out that several events were in fact dreamt, it’s amusing but very annoying at the same time.

I got a HD for my monologue, sadly he gave me the percentage as well, and so instead of just being happy to have a good grade I was a little sad about the extra 17% I didn’t get. I am thrilled to get that mark for one hour’s work, I just need to remember that I didn’t put in the effort and I still did well. The lecturer explained that I would have done much better if I’d included a little more information about the second character. I’ve never had a perfect score at uni, I wonder if I can manage it on the next task.