I have a new psychiatrist; I think he can read minds, I’ll be sure to wear an aluminium foil hat when I see him. He has a policy of never, under any circumstances admitting borderline patients to his hospital – something which scares me because there is no safety net for when I’m at my worst. Public hospitals can still take me; he has no authority there, but you don’t get therapeutic treatment in the public system, and you saw my room! He also wants to totally remove my Seroquel and not allow me any benzodiazepines – that is fucking terrifying! But due to what I felt was a very good session, with a very competent (and super-powered) doctor, I think I will stick with him.
I was discharged from hospital hell on Tuesday afternoon and promptly arrived at my dear friend L’s house. Her diagnosis is almost the same as mine, and we both struggle with self harm. You may think us staying together sounds like a terribly ill thought out idea, but... L’s parents are amazing, they have a very open relationship, if she feels like shit, she tells them and to the best of their ability they help. I am certainly not going to go crying on L’s mother’s shoulder, but L has her mother’s support and I have L’s, plus L has mine. We understand each other on a level that no one else can. We can talk about wanting to tear our abdomen open and bleed to death without embarrassment or fear of being misunderstood. We both understand what we want from certain types of self harm and when it starts to become too dangerous can see suggest other ideas to each other. At the moment we have a “no self harm” pact, it is working rather well. My brain went a little nutty this afternoon and clutching ice cubes took the edge off. L will have a totally cold shower shortly, because she feels the urge to do something more damaging. I need to do something else tonight. I feel like my insides are too big for my frame, my heart attempting an escape through my mouth, my liver boring a hole in my side because it is just too tight in there, my lungs compressing, trying to give the liver and heart a bit more room, spinal cord hooked in the middle by a mischievous fisherman behind me, slowly tearing it from its resting place. But none of this can happen; torso ripping open is off the agenda, so I might try the cold shower trick too.
I will stay with L for a little while longer, not sure exactly how long – I will not leave before I feel safe enough to look after myself at home, but definitely not after I feel my presence is no longer wanted. I feel very welcome at the moment though.
Uni starts in nine days; I’ve done some of the readings but don’t yet have access to the online readings. I fear I am going to be starting from such a lower level than the other students and I want to get as much of a head start as possible; plus, who knows how long it will be before my brain turns to mush and I endure another hospital admission.
L just updated her blog, have a look. She offers a great explanation about self harm to the non-crazy and her blog is full of the raw, truthful and beautiful.
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