Breakfast started off with another patient verbally attacking me. The same one who had a problem with me in group a couple of days ago. This morning she turned around and glared at me while I was in a conversation with another patient. She started saying something which I couldn’t comprehend. I was then accused of giggling at her. “No, I didn’t even do anything, I was just talking to J,” I defended myself. It was an unpleasant shock to discover someone has such a problem with me. I’m a quiet, meek person and I don’t usually find people have such strong dislike for me. As a result of this incident, I was reduced to a shaky mess and close to tears. Later on a nurse explained to me that it’s not my problem, she’s done this to other patients and nurses, she has schizophrenia and her behaviour is a result of her illness. Though it helps a bit to know this, it doesn’t stop me from being absolutely intimidated by her.
I attended art therapy group this morning. Apparently it wasn’t enough, as my nurse chided me, “It’s part of your treatment program,” when I didn’t attend the Optimal Health group. Instead I lay in bed out of exhaustion.
After two weeks of being in hospital, I’m really, really over being here. I want to leave, I want to leave, I want to leave. I am sick of being made to attend pointless groups. I do not appreciate being verbally attacked just for existing. My anxiety is worse as a result. I now feel as though everyone is judging me, hating me. Sharing a room with an eating disorder patient is not helping my own issues with purging.
I am a voluntary patient. I agreed to be admitted, I should be allowed to discharge myself. They have no reason to schedule me either. I’m displeased that Dr T didn’t turn up today like she said she would because it means at least another day before I tell her what I want to tell her: I. Want. To. Leave.