Yesterday on the 21st of November, four weeks from when I was first admitted, I was discharged from hospital. It was only when I left that I realised my day of discharge came exactly a month from when I was taken by ambulance to my local ED on the 21st of October. Funny how certain dates can become significant without us meaning them to.
So where to from here?
First things first; get through my exams. Three exams, three days consecutively. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. I am fully expecting to fail my first one tomorrow. Hell-o summer school.
I have an appointment with the hospital psychologist on the coming Monday. Given last appointment he had me rubbing ice up and down my arm as an alternative to cutting, I’m rather skeptical as to how beneficial going will actually be. I had almost forgotten why I was so firm in my resolve not to see a psychologist again after ending with R. I definitely remember now. Apparently I am being referred to YL, a youth counselling agency. Yet again I’ll have to start all over, become comfortable with someone new and retell my story. Can’t wait.
I’ve also been told I should see my GP. I am yet to make an appointment. It’s been explained to me before what GPs can do in terms of mental health care, but I still don’t quite understand. What much can be done in ten minutes, besides obtaining a script? I still have enough of my Pristiq to tide me over for now, and I was given a free box of Seroquel from the hospital as discharge medication.