Today is World Mental Health Day so it seems somehow fitting that that I am, once again, blogging from my hospital bed. How did I end up here again? Perhaps I am forever doomed to mark the changing seasons with a trip to my local acute psychiatric ward for I have done spring, summer and now autumn.
Quite simply I was losing the battle for stability, I had high days and low days but mainly low days culminating in some very low days, until, on Friday I was so low that there seemed only one answer to the way I was feeling and I planned to take my own life.
Before my own encounter with depression- a depression so severe it brings with it a tangible physical pain, I saw suicide as a selfish act, an act perpetrated by those who didn’t have or didn’t want support; I saw it as a choice.
I wish I was skilled enough with the written word to express just how desperate I was, I wish I could describe that pain with words, the gaping emptiness, the crushing sadness, the fearlessness of death and the peace it would bring. I completely understand how one can feel that simply by not being here any more the pain will be over. I now see how easily one can answer all the questions the prospect of suicide raises- what about the children, friends, family?
My justification was simple, I wasn’t getting any better, my life was a mess, I was unable to do all the things I should be doing or any of the things I wanted to do. My mental illness was preventing me from being the parent, employee, friend and person I wanted and felt I should be.
So persuaded by my fantastic CPN (who must wonder why these things always happen at 4.30pm on Fridays) I, once again, checked into hospital “to keep me safe” and here I am.
I have had a slight medication tweak and not enough tea; again I should see the doctor on Tuesday to discuss what to do next. The doctor who did my admission on Friday night thinks all my health professionals need to get together to “re-strategise”. Bless, he’s obviously new.
This morning I woke- early and with that nervous excitement that so often indicates a swift change in mood. I’ll take it, thanks.
I almost forgot to say, the icing on the cake is that last week I lost my driving licence as I haven’t been stable for 3 months (or 3 minutes). I’d like to point out that DVLA were happy for me to drive for the 3 months it took to gather the reports and in fact don’t require me to stop until the 13th of October- something just doesn’t add up.