Three Poems I Wrote in Hospital

Here are three poems I wrote while stuck in hospital the other week. I wrote them to help me deal with my situation. Poetry really helps me express myself. I showed them to a select few nurses to help them understand how I was feeling.

Detained again

Detained again

Once more my freedom taken

Locked within four walls

My whole world shaken.

A confused mind

A battle within

Maybe it’s time

I should give in.

A fast flow of thoughts

A constant torrid

My head hurts

From hitting solid.

Needle pricks

On a bum bare

Arms pin me down

How is this fair?

Only four months

Since I was set free

Is this how my life

Is meant to be.

Maybe freedom

Is something I’ll never achieve

The situation at the moment

Is leading me to believe.

Trapped

Caged like an animal

Left to rot

Infinite time

Is all I’ve got.

As here I lay

In my prison like bed

Unkindly thoughts

Swirl through my head.

I was a fool

To end up here

Each day I wake

Each day I fear.

I had my chances

I blew them all

So the doctors

Took their detainment call.

I know it’s my fault

A thought I cannot bare

So for now I am trapped

In the void of a lair.

Keeping It Together

When there is no hope left

And everything around you is dying

Inside you are screaming and crying

But on the outside

Nothing shows you are alive

Just numbness portrayed

Trying is the hardest fashion

You must try

Or declare yourself fit to die

All the while you just want to

Let loose

Express your frustration

Go wild and commit obliteration

Surely there is mitigation?

But no

You must remain calm

Or otherwise you will continue

 To be trapped

Trapped in a nightmare

That is seemingly everlasting

Help!

Help!

Help!

I need someone to rescue me

From myself

From my situation

Before I resign myself

To a life of tormenting incarceration

Help!

Help!

Help!

Or is it just too late?

Brokenmind

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Hospital Part 2: What Happened While There

This is my long overdue blog post about what happened in hospital.

      So I reluctantly agreed to an informal admission and was admitted to an open acute ward. I was placed on level 2 observations which is line of sight. I still hadn’t slept due to being in the cells all night. I was still quite distressed and PRN medication of haloperidol and lorazepam wasn’t helping.  At some point I smashed my head against a window and broke it. I got in trouble for that and was warned if I continued they’d get me assessed under the mental health act and sent to the PICU (psychiatric intensive care unit).  The doctor wrote me up for more medication and I finally went for some sleep. Later on at tea time I secreted a knife from the dining room and stabbed at my arms with it. I was really in state of mind where I just wanted to hurt myself. The day after I requested to leave and was instead detained under a section 5(2). I lost the plot and smashed another window with my head. This time it was the observation window of my bedroom door and the whole window came out so I slashed my arms with some of the glass. This time I was moved to the PICU.

                The PICU wasn’t much better, I was still significantly mentally unstable and after ward round the day after I moved to the PICU I started banging my head against the exit door. I was restrained and dragged down to the extra care unit where I was given an intramuscular injection of what I think was lorazepam. Days went by of me just lying in my bed depressed and then I would become agitated quite badly due to the frustration of it all. I was taking PRN of lorazepam and haloperidol quite frequently. The first week and a bit was all a blur of bed and PRN medication. The only thing I really remember is that on the Wednesday (I was moved to the PICU on the Sunday) my community consultant psychiatrist and CPN came to the ward. My community consultant and ward consultant then told me I was placed on a section 2. I got up and left the room where without even doing anything I was restrained. I was dragged to the extra care unit again. I don’t think I was given an injection this time. My CPN later told me this had upset her to see me like that and that she wanted to come and see me before she left but they wouldn’t let her as I was still in restraint down the extra care unit.

                I pretty much didn’t leave my room for a week and a half except at meal times and cigarette times. I was still on level 2 observations so I had someone with me at all times. One night I was lying in bed and I got told off for picking at my arms. So I hid under the cover and did it. The nurse then took my cover away. I don’t know why but this pissed me off big time. I remember thinking fuck you so I grabbed a pen and stabbed at my arms a few times before being restrained again.  They decided they were going to “sterilise” my room. This meant they took everything and I mean everything out of my room they even removed my sanitary products.  My bed covers were also taken and I was left with just one of those seclusion blankets. This was all done in a matter of minutes while I was in restraint on my bed. There was this nurse who was fairly nice if you were fine but if you got unwell and did something she spoke to you like shit. She said something that upset me so I tried to kick her. They threatened seclusion but never followed through with it.

                The day after was ward round again and I was reduced from level 2 observations to level 3 observations which meant I was just on 15 minute random checks instead of somebody with me constantly. Without the support of that nurse with me constantly I struggled that afternoon. I decided stupidly I was going to break out. I ran down the corridor and straight into the exit door. It hurt quite a lot but it didn’t break. I was restrained and dragged to my room where I was given 2 injections. After this incident I decided I really needed to hold it together for my tribunal I had applied for. I knew if I continued I wouldn’t win it and I wanted to get out so badly. So I tried hard. I started coming out of my room and engaging with other patients. There were a few patients I could talk to but a lot were very unwell and you couldn’t really engage with them. I started approaching staff when I needed to talk and requesting PRN when I needed it. I started writing a few poems to help me deal with my emotions. After a few days I was given 15 minutes escorted grounds leave. It was good to get out for a little walk. I got to go out 2-3 times a day and it really helped just to get out for that little while. In the end it turned out that the holding it together for the tribunal lead to me actually becoming well again. I went from spending all day in my room to spending all day out of my room doing stuff in the space of a week. I was happy and well again.

By the time it got to my tribunal I was almost certain they had to let me go as I had done so well. My solicitor thought I had a good chance too. When it came to my tribunal only the psychiatrist was against my discharge. The nursing staff said I was ready and they gave me a glowing report about how well I was. My CPN said I was ready for discharge too and agreed with me that the crisis was over and that hospital now was counter-productive. As it was ward round day the consultant couldn’t make the tribunal so the staff grade doctor was sent to do it. It was his first tribunal and without trying to be mean he was absolutely shocking. The tribunal panel ate him alive it was actually quite uncomfortable to watch. Even my CPN made a comment about him squirming in his seat and being terrible afterwards. I won my tribunal and they panel made comment about how well I had come across to them. They discharged me from my section on the agreement I stay informally until the day after so I could have my forensic assessment that had already been arranged.

I was buzzing after my tribunal. I was so happy I would be getting out of there. Technically I could have left but I stayed as agreed until the next day. The forensic psychiatrist who assessed me basically said the assessment was pointless now I had been discharged from my section. But we went ahead with it. Some sensitive issues were discussed but I didn’t let them effect me as I was just so happy to be getting out of hospital. After the assessment I waited for my sister to come pick me up and I left. It was such a huge relief. I walked out of that hospital with the biggest smile on my face.  I never want to go into hospital again.

Brokenmind

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Hospital Part 1: How i Ended Up There

So I ended up in hospital again. Here is how the story goes.

                On Friday the 9^th of March I had a CPA. It left me feeling all emotional and horrible. I decided I was going to take an overdose so I went and bought 100 paracetamol. I came home and waited a while before I started taking the paracetamol. I was sick after swallowing 10 due to the fact I have taken paracetamol overdoses in the past and my body can’t hack them. But I persevered. I took a further 30 paracetamol before I was sick again. It was a horrible experience as I kept retching but I was determined. I was really quite distressed at the time. I didn’t want to die I just wanted to make myself really ill like I have been in the past when I have taken paracetamol. After being sick for the 2^nd time I gave in as it just wasn’t working. I turned to cutting myself instead. Then my housing manager was at my door and she saw my self-harm. She came in my flat and I told her I had attempted an overdose. She phoned for an ambulance. I hid my razorblade in my pocket as I hadn’t finished yet. Next thing I know 2 police officers turn up at my flat.

                They came in my flat and I refused to go to hospital. I then slashed at my arm again. The police officers jumped on me and removed the razorblade and placed me in handcuffs. They arrested me for breach of the peace. They called for back up and about 5 minutes later a further 3 police officers turned up. I was still refusing to go to hospital so they decided they would call for a police van. The police van turned up and I was escorted outside. My neighbours were watching as I was dragged out in handcuffs.  I was placed in the back of the police van but I started banging my head on the cage so they jumped inside and restrained me. They decided they would stay in the back of the van with me. They blue lighted me to A&E. That was an experience. We were flying all over the place. Later in hospital one of the officers said it was one of the worst experiences he had had.

                When we got to A&E I tried to throw myself out of the van but they caught me. I refused to go inside so they dragged me in kicking and screaming. There were 6 police officers with me but they soon cut it down to 3. 2 males for restraint and 1 female because apparently they had to have a female. We waited a while before we were seen. I calmed down a little so they put my handcuffs to the front and they took me out for a cigarette. During which one police officer said I was the most normal mad person he had come across. When I needed the toilet I had to have the female officer come in with me and she had to pull down and then up my trousers due to the fact I was in handcuffs. Very degrading indeed. We waited ages to be seen and in the meantime I kept getting distressed again and ended up with the handcuffs to the back. They moved them to the front again when the nurse came to sterri-strip my arm.  Then the doctor came to do my bloods. When she had finished she left the needle in my arm while she went to get a plaster. Due to the fact they had doubled up my handcuffs I had a bit of movement available so I grabbed the needle out of my arm. The officers jumped on me and did some kind of pushing me in the face to get me to drop it. Once again my handcuffs were placed behind me where they stayed until I was taken to the police station. They said I was too much of a risk. My bloods came back OK due to the fact I had thrown all the paracetamol up so I was taken to the police station as a place of safety. We were at A&E 5 hours and all together I spent about 6 hours in handcuffs. My wrists were sore for days after and I had bruising.

                When we arrived at the police station I had to remove most of the stuff I had on including my piercings. A photograph was taken of me and I was lead to a cell. The cell door was left open and 2 police officers and the female detention officers sat outside. It was horrible being in a police cell, I’ve never been in one before. All that was in there was some thin mats and a toilet. I got distressed and started banging my head against the wall. I was handcuffed again and placed in leg restraints for about 30 minutes until I calmed down. The custody nurse came to see me and asked a few questions. Then about 2 hours later a mental health nurse from the single point of access team came to assess me. He basically said that I needed hospital and if I didn’t agree to go in informally he would request a mental health act assessment. I always said I wouldn’t go into hospital again but after some distress and thinking I agreed to an informal admission due to the fact the mental health act assessment wouldn’t take place until the morning and I didn’t want to stay in the police cells all night. I was really annoyed though.

The only bed available was at the big hospital in a far away town which annoyed me further. After a short wait I was taken in a police van to the hospital. It took about 40 minutes. I arrived at the hospital at around 5.30am after no sleep all night. So that is how I ended up in hospital. It was a hellish experience and writing it has made me quite anxious. A post will follow about what happened in hospital as it is too much to write this and then that in one go.

Brokenmind

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Self-harm

A big issue for me right now is my self-harm. It’s bad at the moment. Only 3 weeks ago did I have 27 stitches in my arms and now I have 20. I’ve been doing it on my wrist too which is a really dangerous area. Not just due to the fact you could hit an artery and bleed out but because there are lots of nerves, tendons and ligaments in the wrist. If I got one of them then I could permanently lose sensation and/or movement in my hand. I am very lucky not to have done some permanent damage already. Very very lucky. I did a really deep and big one on my left wrist the other day and I am amazed how I didn’t do any internal damage. I don’t know how to stop though. I really don’t. I get so angry at times and take it out on myself. It’s the only way I know how to cope. I also like the aftercare aspect of self-harm. Tending to wounds can be fairly therapeutic. I suppose in a way my self-harm wounds are one of the few things that enables me to look after myself. I like having a bandage on my arm too. Having something physical as a symbol of all the invisible stuff that goes around in your head. It kind of makes it more bearable.

But when the wounds heal you are left with the mess that are scars. I have more than my fair share of scars and they are hideous. I could not go out in public with my arms showing. I am not looking forward to summer one bit, I never do. I have a love hate relationship with self-harm. I just don’t know when this self-harm will end. Will it ever end? Will it not end until I do some serious damage? Is that what it is going to take to stop me, will that even stop me? Will I end up losing my arm?  It scares me more that I will lose sensation or movement in my hand or something even worse than it does that I may die. I really need to sort out this self-harm problem because I cannot continue like I am. I am just clueless as to what to do.

Brokenmind

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Relationships and Sexuality

This blog entry is going to be about relationships and sexuality . Very current issues for me that I feel I just need to write about. It could get very complicated so I apologise if it doesn’t make sense. But on the other hand you may be able to identify with some of it.

                Where to start? Well on Tuesday I met up with this guy from facebook I've talked on and off with for a few years. I agreed to meet him because I was very elated in mood and needed to do something and all my friends were unavailable. We met in town for a few drinks and he was really lovely. Several pints and jagerbombs later we headed back to my house. He really was a nice guy, not your typical sort of guy. Very caring and understanding. He knew a little bit about the fact I have mental health issues but when we met and after a few drinks I was more open about my mental health. I told him I have borderline personality disorder but he didn’t know much about it. I also told him I self-harm. He told me he has suffered with depression in the past and that he used to self harm too. Back at my house we chilled out and we got on really well. We ended up having sex. Probably shouldn’t have but we did.

A while after I self harmed quite badly because of many reasons really. I felt guilty, angry and confused to name a few of the emotions.  Thing is I have no interest in sex whatsoever. I don’t like it and it doesn’t bother me for having it. I have never engaged in a sexual experience in my life unless when I have been drunk. Even then it’s because I’ve got off with some guy or girl and I just give it them because I know it is what they want. I couldn’t do it sober. I do not enjoy it either and I feel like I am just going through the motions so to speak.

I was angry and confused about it because of the whole sexuality thing. I know I am not straight but I don’t know if I am bisexual, lesbian or even asexual. People tell me it is ok to be unsure but I have this need to know. I think this stems from having the need to be secure with my identity. I think I am lucky for someone with BPD due to the fact I am secure with many aspects of my identity with sexuality being the exception. My CPN suggested today that the need of needing to know is down to the black and white thinking that occurs with BPD. I am or I am not and there is no middle ground. My sexuality is a really big issue at the moment and something I am struggling with a lot.  I have made an appointment with the lesbian and bisexual worker to from this women’s organisation I have recently started attending to discuss it. I probably still will not get any answers but it will probably good for me to talk about it. When I was in hospital I decided one day I was a lesbian. I told my psychologist who thought it was a massive thing. But since leaving hospital in November I’ve had a few experiences with men and I don’t know what it is all about. To say I am confused about everything isn’t enough. But why do I have this overwhelming need to know and be sure? If I was giving advice to someone in a similar position I would tell them it is OK to be unsure but for me I just really need to know.

Another issue for me right now is whether I want to get in a relationship with the said guy. He seems to be really interested in me which brings up issues alone. I hate myself so much that I cannot understand why anyone would like me. It confuses me. I’ve only ever had one relationship in the past which was with another woman and it wasn’t a very pleasant experience. Things got very intense very quickly and then I suddenly went from liking her a lot to hating her.  I felt trapped by the end and felt like I had lost part of who I was due to spending too much time together. It was only a brief relationship of about 6 weeks but boy was it intense. I don’t know if I could put myself through that again. It could have disastrous consequences. But then again it could be fine, it could do me good but I don’t know if it is a risk I am willing to take.  One other issue too; I don’t even know if I want to be with a guy!  Things are just so confusing for me right now and it is really making me hate myself and be angry with myself. I suppose its frustration of the not knowing and not knowing what to do. I had a good chat with my CPN today about some of these issues. I didn’t resolve anything but it was good to talk.

Brokenmind

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My Short Stay in Hospital

My CPN suggested I write a blog about the past week’s events when she came to see me. However I really wasn’t up to it. I am going to try and write it now as I have time to kill and I don’t know what to do with myself otherwise. On Saturday night I got drunk and I felt so low I came home and took an overdose of amitriptyline and chlorpromazine.  After I was declared medically fit by the hospital I was seen by the crisis team Sunday evening. It was the same nurse as I had seen Saturday. She said my thumb was firmly pressed on the self destruct button and that the only option left was hospital. She said I either agree to go as an informal patient or she would request a mental health act assessment. I was still fairly sedated from the overdose and didn’t have the energy to fight so I agreed to go in as an informal patient. I had to wait a bit on the ward before a bed was found. The bed that came up was in the furthest away hospital that is covered by my trust. I was transferred there by ambulance and it was a good 50 minutes away. I had nothing with me except the clothes I had on my back.

                When I arrived it was the usual admission stuff of seeing psychiatrist etc and I went to bed as still sedated from overdose. The day after I was basically left on my own in my room. Nobody came to talk to me; I was just left laying in bed feeling really shit. Around teatime I decided I couldn’t cope with this and asked to leave. They said they had to get the doctor to see me first. I waited for the doctor for a couple of hours. When I saw the doctor I told him I wanted to leave. He said I couldn’t as I wasn’t safe. We argued and I walked off. I went to the exit of the ward and booted the door out of frustration.  I was told I had now been detained. This was for 72 hours and I later learned it was a section 5 (2) which is known as a doctors holding power.  I was angry that I had been detained as I had only got off a 2 year section less than 4 months ago. I went to my room and punched the wall and banged my head a few times as well as punching myself in the face. The charge nurse came and offered me PRN medication but I was unwilling to co-operate with them.        

                After some time of bashing around my room I went to the exit of the ward and started kicking the door. I also put my head through one of the glass panels of the door. I was restrained and dragged to my room where they give me 2 intra-muscular injections; one of lorazepam and the other of haloperidol. I had totally lost control of myself. I had a piece of glass stuck in my head and blood down my face. One of the nurses removed the glass and cleaned my head.  In time I calmed down and they released their hold on me. They told me they would offer me more medication later and if I refused then they would just force me to have it by intra-muscular injection. Again I was left to my own devices in my room without having the opportunity to talk to anybody. Later they offered me more medication and not wanting to be injected again I took it orally. My sister brought me some stuff later on that evening which was a relief as I had been stuck in the same clothes since Saturday, it was now Monday.

                The day after they told me they would remove the section if I agreed to be moved to another ward in another town closer to home. I agreed. All day I was left waiting around wondering when I would be moved. About 6 o clock they came and told me I couldn’t be moved today as the other ward was too chaotic but that there was a bed waiting for me and I would go tomorrow. I was fed up again and asked to leave. The doctor said the same; I would be sectioned again if I didn’t agree to stay. So reluctantly I agreed to stay. The morning after I was moved to the other ward. The other ward was the same. They just left you in your room and ignored you so I requested to leave as I couldn’t cope with it all. This time the doctor listened to me when I said I wasn’t suicidal or going to hurt myself and he said I could leave. I felt huge relief. I think I lasted about 4 hours on this ward before I left. I was given 2 haloperidol to take with me. My sister came and picked me up and took me home. I was so happy to be out of hospital as I couldn’t hack it in there. The whole time I was in I didn’t eat so I got a mc Donald’s on the way home. I was glad to be home but the whole experience had left me feeling uneasy. I will never go into hospital as an informal patient again. You really aren’t there voluntarily as they do not let you go and threaten to section you. I found it more stressful than being under section. If they want me in hospital again then they will have to section me.

Brokenmind

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Big Decision

I have always dreamt of having access to this medication. Enough medication to easily kill me. Faced with this opportunity I am now scared. I have spent many hours and days daydreaming about suicide in my life. Sometimes I have felt like making a dramatic exit such as throwing myself from the Humber Bridge. This has always been a dream of mine and I have toyed with the idea on many occasions. I have indeed been removed by the police on two occasions. But I think deep down I have always wanted an easier way out such as an overdose. I have taken a few overdoses in the half-hearted suicide attempt way, really just wanting to stop the pain and not truly wanting to die. I have dreamt of having access to lots of medication, taking them all and not waking up. I have never had that opportunity before.  But now I do. I have always wanted this, always. Now faced with this opportunity I am unsure if I want to die. I have my bad times, they come and go. I feel suicidal at times, it comes and goes. History has a way of repeating itself and on that basis I know I will have bad times and feel suicidal not just once more but on many occasions in the future. Do I just put an end to all that now while I have the chance?

I’ve not been having the best time lately but I’ve not been at my worst. I have had suicidal thoughts however, only last night while laying in bed pre-sleep I decided I was going home today to kill myself. Well I couldn’t go home and now I am back at my sisters where I am being confronted with this opportunity. Maybe fate has brought me to this opportunity. Maybe these circumstances are a way of the world telling me it is my time to go. Maybe it is fate that took my sister in to hospital and she got given all these medications. Maybe it is fate that my bathroom isn’t completed yet and I’ve had to come back to my sisters for the weekend. Maybe its fate that is taking my sister and the kids away for the night tomorrow so I will be left alone for the night with all this medication.  There are a lot of things there that fall into place perfectly for me to commit suicide. I am sure someone or something somewhere is saying that suicide is what I should do. I don’t normally believe in destiny but maybe to kill myself tomorrow is my destiny.

I have no life and I do not see a life for myself anymore. I definitely feel a high degree of hopelessness.  I am unsure if I can continue living like this when I know that the future holds more turmoil. If I do not kill myself tomorrow will I only end up killing myself in the future? If that is the case then why do I just not save myself the agony of living a few more years and do it tomorrow? I do not see the prognosis for me as being good. I have such a strong hate towards myself that I doubt I can overcome it. I have no real reason for being like this, no dark secret that if I talk about it I will feel better and recover. All this is my own fault and perhaps I do not deserve life. Sometimes I wish I could bottle up life. I wish I could take the life I had in me and give it to someone who deserves it. Somebody who will make better use of this so called “gift” of life.

I suppose it is a case of will I or won’t I. Part of me really wants to but part of me is scared too. I am not going to make a rash impulsive decision. Ending your life should be thought through carefully. Here is one of my favourite quotes from the girl, interrupted book “Suicide is a form of murder - premeditated murder. It isn't something you do the first time you think of doing it. It takes getting used to. And you need the means, the opportunity, the motive. A successful suicide demands good organization and a cool head, both of which are usually incompatible with the suicidal state of mind.”  For the first time in my life I have the means and the opportunity but perhaps the motive is lacking slightly. Usually all I have is a strong motive. There is a motive there though and for once it isn’t a really intense and short lasting motive. It is more of a rational, thought about motive that I have come about after weighing up my life and my possible outcomes. I am unsure if the motive is strong enough at the moment. I really have some thinking to do over the next 24 hour period.

Brokemind

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