When people tell me they’re worried about me, I generally dismiss their concerns. I don’t view myself as someone worthy of care. I don’t have all that much regard for myself, so why should others have all that much regard for me?
When the roles are reversed though? I become very alarmed and stressed out over the person’s wellbeing.
My friend texted me on my mobile phone today. Over the past few days she has been asking me of my experiences with overdosing and hospital, with questions ranging from ‘What did you take?’ to ‘What did you tell the triage nurse at the ED?’ I have obliged with answering her questions, perhaps against my better judgement. I know she has a history of mental illness, self harm and hospital admissions, just to name a few. I was afraid that by answering her questions, specifically the ‘What and how much did you take when you OD’d?’, that I’d trigger her or give her ideas.
She told me today in her text that she is meant to be going to SCG Hospital (the same general hospital I was in just a week earlier in the Emergency Department following my overdose), because she is not in a good place right now and P Clinic, a private mental health clinic, have no beds available and her psychiatrist is away ’til Tuesday. She has been hospitalised twice before, once in the psych ward of SCG Hospital and the other time in P Cinic. It seems she is likely to be hospitalised again for the third time. I do worry about her, and just hope that she’s okay.
If I’m honest though, part of me is jealous. Jealous that she receives help in the form of a hospital admission, her third one in a period of a year while I’m just left to struggle. It feels a bit like deja vu at the moment. A similar situation had arisen a couple of years ago. A different friend also had mental health issues and was admitted four times in a period of less than a year while I, also struggling, was given almost bugger all. This friend is all better now, from what I’ve seen, she’s not one to hide it if she’s not okay.
I suppose I should be grateful I am getting more help than I’ve ever received before, in the form of seeing either my psychologist or psychiatrist once a week. Others who need help don’t get any support at all. I do pay for it though. If I didn’t, I’d probably still be getting bugger all.
I’ve never stayed in a psych ward or a mental health clinic. Perhaps if I knew what it was like, and discovered it is an awful place to be, I wouldn’t feel so jealous of my friend/s.
I can’t speak of any experiences in a psych ward, obviously. I can speak of my experiences in a medical ward though. It’s funny, when I was in hospital, all I wanted was to get out and never have to glance the inside of the hospital ward again. The few days following my discharge however, I just wanted to be back in again.
Perhaps it is difficult to understand why anyone would want to be in hospital. In some ways it is just, I suppose, easier. Nothing much is expected of you, there’s not much to worry about, you’re expected to just be. The day primarily consisted of getting up, eating, getting through the day and going back to sleep. When you’re depressed, that pretty much sounds like the ideal day. When you’re in hospital, there’s also less worry about whether you are able to keep yourself safe or not, because there are constantly people and nurses around who (theoretically) are meant to be looking after their patients.
When on the outside however, there are far too many triggers. Too much to worry about. Too much time spent alone with my thoughts. Too easy access to the stash of pills I have kept in my room and my razor blade.
Again, I haven’t spent time on a psych ward so for all I know, hospital experiences there could be entirely different.
I’m not sure I’d want to be in hospital exactly. I just want to be somewhere where I don’t have to think, don’t have to deal with life and don’t have to try to maintain this pretence that everything is okay. But that is just my tendency to run away from anything and everything difficult speaking, I know I do need to learn to cope with everyday life.
PS. I am very sorry to the few email subscribers that I have. In un-privatising my blog posts, WordPress seems to have decided it will resend each and every blog post. I do apologize for clogging up your inbox. I will attempt to ensure it doesn’t happen again.