I’m back in the private psychiatric
hospital after spending a night in emergency sleeping on a trolley not much
wider that me. It’s hard to describe how numb I am, how numb I have been for
quite some time. This is more than what is normal for me; it’s eaten away all
that I am. I am unable to get excited about moving house – something I’ve
wanted for over a year-and-a-half and which is finally happening. And I feel
like I need to open a valve in my chest to let out the blackness. I’m not in
here for numbness though. I’m here because I have an active suicide plan, which
should work and I’m desperate for it to. Seeking help when you’re feeling like
that seems pretty counterproductive but there is an element of fear, which
makes me talk to my psychiatrist to see what he can do. When I saw him last
night he suggested putting me on Epilim, a drug I was on a few years ago, which
he remembers being effective. I have no memory of it apart from the weight it
made me gain (I’m on appetite suppressants now). But I didn’t want to go on it
incase it works and I get to a stage where I’m just as hopeless and depressed
but lack the drive to kill myself. (I agreed reluctantly) I can’t continue like
this. There are ways of doing it in the hospital but if it fails or I’m found
before I die there will be all manner of trouble. I was in such a state last
night that I would have done it but I was in a shared room and couldn’t predict
how long my roommate would be out.
I’ve reached the stage where I feel pretty
confident that suicide is how I’ll meet my end. There’s little fear left and a
general sense of readiness. My only fear is that it won’t work and I’ll have to
live with the consequences. Oh to be an American and have 5 guns in the house.
My psychiatrist, emergency and the CAT team got me through the two nights
before I came in here. Though I think this admission will just delay the
inevitable. It’s hard to say you’re suicidal and then not do it, people don’t
understand. It’s a pull. Imagine that piece of chocolate you’re craving and
have resisted all night, well it’s not a piece of chocolate but whatever method
you’re planning pulls you in like that, it calls your name, taunts you -“I’m still waiting, what, are you scared?”
You almost need to chain yourself to a chair to keep away from whatever it is
you’ve got planned
