I wish I could verbalise what’s in my head instead of keeping it locked up inside.
I wish I could be honest about how I’m feeling.
I wish I had the courage to ask for help when I need it.
I self harmed yesterday. To be honest, I’ve been self harming throughout my time here. Even when I was on specials, I cut myself the one time the nurse wasn’t watching me, in the shower. It’s just that yesterday the psychologist asked why I was crying the previous day. I admitted I had cut myself both the day before and that day. “Can you show me?” he asked. I said to him it was on my thigh and he spotted the patch of blood that was seeping through my jeans. I told him I did it half an hour ago when he asked, and he went off to tell the nurses.
One of the doctors on my team came to see me and to look at the cuts. They weren’t deep. As expected, I had my blade taken away from me and was also placed on 15 minute obs.
The registrar came to speak with me today. She tried to explain why self harming is a big deal to them. Infection, septicaemia, cutting a major artery, it’s not a ‘normal’ way of coping… In turn, I tried to explain why self harming isn’t a big deal to me. I’ve done so for about seven years now and they’ve never been all that deep. She spoke of staying here until I learnt a different strategy to cope instead of self harming. My tears almost turned into laughter then. If that’s the case I’ll be here for years… I informed her my exams are next week on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday. Told her with uncertainty I want to be discharged, as it’s easier to study at home rather than on the ward. She’ll speak to me about what the plan is tomorrow apparently.
It’ll be four weeks in this public psych ward on Sunday, and now there are only two other patients who were here when I arrived.