Hello everyone. I'm sorry this has taken me so long to update, but with everything going on I'm sure you can understand.
So, hospital was pointless. I received no treatment while I was there, not what I would consider treatment anyway. The first week I was stuck in isolation because I had Covid, so I only left the room for 20, 30 minutes a day over a couple of visits outside.
After I begged for three solid days, they started testing me and on the third day of negative testing I finally got to leave isolation. My husband brought our daughter to visit and, since I was an informal patient (not sectioned) I got to go outside with her (no way I'm having her inside a mental hospital).
I had a session with a psychologist and spoke to someone about my 'recovery plan' - of which I never heard a thing about again until they gave me a print out of out when I was discharged, half of which was not what we talked about anyway. I had a review on day 2 out of isolation where the very bored looking doctor asked me if I'd be willing to discharge the next day. I said, I've had no treatment yet, what would be the point in discharge? He couldn't be bothered to discuss anything about my mental health so he just shrugged and said fine.
So the week is going by and I get no treatment at all, in any form. I have no contact with a doctor, psychologist, therapists or even an activities coordinator. My weird eating disorder (neophobia) is compounded by idiot nursing assistants bullying me into eating the extremely unhealthy food on offer every day. I'm invited to a 'relaxation session' but they forget about me and I don't get to go.
Other patients here have severe mental illnesses, and one who screams, shouts, throws things and swears profusely, hits me the second Thursday I'm there. This breaks me and I have the worst day since I was checked in. Staff just let it happen. No one comes to apologise or tell me what's happening to make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't have anything against this woman, she's very ill and doesn't know up from down. It's the staff who are responsible.
The next day I have my second session with a psychologist. Afterwards I have my 2nd review, in which they tell me I'm being discharged in an hour. What? Why didn't anyone tell me this yesterday? My husbands bringing our daughter for a visit. I haven't got transport sorted or anything. Tough, someone's already been allocated your bed, get out. I'm told I'll get phone calls in the next 48 hours and beyond. I'll be contacted to arrange psychology sessions before next week is up. They know where I'm staying and will sort everything out about which teams will deal with me.
Husband helps me get anything of mine into his car and we wait for the meds that were promised me. The 5 minutes promise goes by, 10 minutes, 20. Then it turns out, nope, the woman in the pharmacy today didn't even bother turning her computer on yet, can you wait in the car park for 5 hours?
My 10 month old daughter needs to be in bed at some point, she needs feeding, so no, do something else, this is not good enough. They finally give me 3 days worth of meds and we leave. I'm in tatters.
I go back to the unit Monday just gone to get the meds I was promised. 2 weeks worth. I tell them I didn't get the 48 hours call. I'm promised it will come tomorrow.
It didn't. Of course it didn't. I get a home visit from two people who know next to nothing about me. I'm told I wasn't referred to the right community team, so it'll take more time to get it sorted, and I won't get psychology appointments because the waiting list is too long.
It's now Saturday and I've heard nothing since. I'm still just as suicidal as I was before I went in, and now I'm living with my parents full time again I've basically become the family scapegoat, again, like it was when I was a kid. The way these people - my sister included when she visits - talk to each other is revolting. But I dare to voice my opinion on something and I get treated like I'm an ungrateful attitude ridden piece of shit. I left a light on the other day and I had to grovel an apology before my father would let it drop. They are driving me into the same horrific place I was in before, but I have no where else to go. If I go back to my husband I'll become the slave again, if I stay here I'll be reduced to my 11 year old self. My council cant help me get a house because I'm not considered a priority. I can't afford private renting. My friends can't or don't want to help, few as they are, no one else in the family has room for me, anyway I don't know them enough. I try talking to my mother about how the dynamic here and the old one we had when I was a kid effected and still effects me and I'm told I can live on the streets if I don't like it.
So now I can't even order SN because I've got no fixed address.
My daughter stayed with me the last couple days but I don't want her back here in this poisonous place so I might not even be able to see her anymore, I certainly can't afford the train fare to visit her at her dad's every day. But I can't have her growing up around my horrible family.
What do I do? Wait till everyone is asleep and go to somewhere only an adult might find me and slit my wrists in the middle of the night so no one can stop me? I want to burn this fucking house to the ground with everyone in it. They deserve to be dead, not me. They made me this way, they robbed me of coping skills, they punished me for being groomed online, they made me this way. They deserve to suffer, not me. Is there a God? He must fucking despise me. I beg for help, for guidance, just to get through each day but no one listens. I try everything I can, I try letting things go, distracting myself, 'mindfulness' bullshit, I beg for help learning the skills I lack to cope with life but no one is willing to teach me. I'm in a sea looking at the lifeboat but they ride over the top of me.
I'm so fucking done. I'm so done. I haven't got it in me anymore. I have no where to go. My poor poor daughter. What will she think of me growing up, knowing I couldn't cope with simply living.
I'm sorry, this started out as an update and ended with me ranting and crying. But this is the only place I've got to say what I really feel. It's breaking my heart to be alive. I can't trust anyone I know. If I tell someone how I feel just to get it off my chest they'll stick me in hospital again. Just so they don't have to hear it anymore. I just don't know what to do anymore.
So, hospital was pointless. I received no treatment while I was there, not what I would consider treatment anyway. The first week I was stuck in isolation because I had Covid, so I only left the room for 20, 30 minutes a day over a couple of visits outside.
After I begged for three solid days, they started testing me and on the third day of negative testing I finally got to leave isolation. My husband brought our daughter to visit and, since I was an informal patient (not sectioned) I got to go outside with her (no way I'm having her inside a mental hospital).
I had a session with a psychologist and spoke to someone about my 'recovery plan' - of which I never heard a thing about again until they gave me a print out of out when I was discharged, half of which was not what we talked about anyway. I had a review on day 2 out of isolation where the very bored looking doctor asked me if I'd be willing to discharge the next day. I said, I've had no treatment yet, what would be the point in discharge? He couldn't be bothered to discuss anything about my mental health so he just shrugged and said fine.
So the week is going by and I get no treatment at all, in any form. I have no contact with a doctor, psychologist, therapists or even an activities coordinator. My weird eating disorder (neophobia) is compounded by idiot nursing assistants bullying me into eating the extremely unhealthy food on offer every day. I'm invited to a 'relaxation session' but they forget about me and I don't get to go.
Other patients here have severe mental illnesses, and one who screams, shouts, throws things and swears profusely, hits me the second Thursday I'm there. This breaks me and I have the worst day since I was checked in. Staff just let it happen. No one comes to apologise or tell me what's happening to make sure it doesn't happen again. I don't have anything against this woman, she's very ill and doesn't know up from down. It's the staff who are responsible.
The next day I have my second session with a psychologist. Afterwards I have my 2nd review, in which they tell me I'm being discharged in an hour. What? Why didn't anyone tell me this yesterday? My husbands bringing our daughter for a visit. I haven't got transport sorted or anything. Tough, someone's already been allocated your bed, get out. I'm told I'll get phone calls in the next 48 hours and beyond. I'll be contacted to arrange psychology sessions before next week is up. They know where I'm staying and will sort everything out about which teams will deal with me.
Husband helps me get anything of mine into his car and we wait for the meds that were promised me. The 5 minutes promise goes by, 10 minutes, 20. Then it turns out, nope, the woman in the pharmacy today didn't even bother turning her computer on yet, can you wait in the car park for 5 hours?
My 10 month old daughter needs to be in bed at some point, she needs feeding, so no, do something else, this is not good enough. They finally give me 3 days worth of meds and we leave. I'm in tatters.
I go back to the unit Monday just gone to get the meds I was promised. 2 weeks worth. I tell them I didn't get the 48 hours call. I'm promised it will come tomorrow.
It didn't. Of course it didn't. I get a home visit from two people who know next to nothing about me. I'm told I wasn't referred to the right community team, so it'll take more time to get it sorted, and I won't get psychology appointments because the waiting list is too long.
It's now Saturday and I've heard nothing since. I'm still just as suicidal as I was before I went in, and now I'm living with my parents full time again I've basically become the family scapegoat, again, like it was when I was a kid. The way these people - my sister included when she visits - talk to each other is revolting. But I dare to voice my opinion on something and I get treated like I'm an ungrateful attitude ridden piece of shit. I left a light on the other day and I had to grovel an apology before my father would let it drop. They are driving me into the same horrific place I was in before, but I have no where else to go. If I go back to my husband I'll become the slave again, if I stay here I'll be reduced to my 11 year old self. My council cant help me get a house because I'm not considered a priority. I can't afford private renting. My friends can't or don't want to help, few as they are, no one else in the family has room for me, anyway I don't know them enough. I try talking to my mother about how the dynamic here and the old one we had when I was a kid effected and still effects me and I'm told I can live on the streets if I don't like it.
So now I can't even order SN because I've got no fixed address.
My daughter stayed with me the last couple days but I don't want her back here in this poisonous place so I might not even be able to see her anymore, I certainly can't afford the train fare to visit her at her dad's every day. But I can't have her growing up around my horrible family.
What do I do? Wait till everyone is asleep and go to somewhere only an adult might find me and slit my wrists in the middle of the night so no one can stop me? I want to burn this fucking house to the ground with everyone in it. They deserve to be dead, not me. They made me this way, they robbed me of coping skills, they punished me for being groomed online, they made me this way. They deserve to suffer, not me. Is there a God? He must fucking despise me. I beg for help, for guidance, just to get through each day but no one listens. I try everything I can, I try letting things go, distracting myself, 'mindfulness' bullshit, I beg for help learning the skills I lack to cope with life but no one is willing to teach me. I'm in a sea looking at the lifeboat but they ride over the top of me.
I'm so fucking done. I'm so done. I haven't got it in me anymore. I have no where to go. My poor poor daughter. What will she think of me growing up, knowing I couldn't cope with simply living.
I'm sorry, this started out as an update and ended with me ranting and crying. But this is the only place I've got to say what I really feel. It's breaking my heart to be alive. I can't trust anyone I know. If I tell someone how I feel just to get it off my chest they'll stick me in hospital again. Just so they don't have to hear it anymore. I just don't know what to do anymore.
