Day Twelve

Had really bizarre dreams. No wonder really, seeing as I was on so many drugs.
I was living in the marital home, and me and my cat (that my husband now has) were waiting to move in to my new flat – but it wasn’t my house, it was the house down the street where two of my friends used to live? Odd.
Anyway, I got all my stuff, and moved it to my new flat – which rather than in the city centre was on Park Street in Bristol, where I used to live when I was a student. I had all my shit with me, and when I walked in, the ground floor (of the duplex – so actually the third level of the building) was just completely dilapidated – like literal holes in the wall and cracks in the floor, just completely falling apart. I didn’t even recognise it. Then when I went upstairs to the bedrooms, it was clear that someone was still living there? It was then that I realised that I hadn’t actually completed the house sale, we’d just exchanged contracts. God knows how I had the keys, but there was me and the cat and my parents just like wtf should we do??
And then I woke up, and thankfully my new flat is not falling down, but I don’t have the cat, and that made me sad.

Waited around for a bit for someone to come and wake me up. They sometimes do between 8 and 8:30 for meds, but no one did. That always puts me in a bad mood. It feels like they’ve forgotten about me. I’m like a fucking needy baby. I don’t know why it bothers me so much…
I think it’s just that I’m so lonely in here, and it’s nice to have someone say ‘Good Morning!’, rather than just peering through my jail slats on the door and walking away.
Anyway, eventually someone came at 9:15 and I got up to go get meds.

While I was getting hot water for my coffee (they’ve got a machine working outside of the servery now, which means I can get it myself whenever I want, rather than having to ask someone, which is nice) the APIP nurse asked how I was after yesterday’s session, so I told her.
She completely understood, and asked what I was going to do today. I said I was going to get dressed etc because that always makes me feel better, and she insisted with one of the staff that they took me out for a walk that morning too, which gave me a bit more motivation to get ready.
Honestly, it was really tempting to just go back to bed, especially because of all the meds I’d been given the previous night.

I remembered that my mum had bought me a razor, so asked the nurses if I could have it (and said I would completely understand if they said no after the night before). She said I couldn’t have mine, but could have one of the ward’s ‘safety razors’. They’re like horrible disposable things that you need foam for. But thankfully I remembered the trick of using conditioner instead of shaving foam, and my pits no longer stink by mid-afternoon, so that’s nice.

Once I was dressed, I felt a bit better, so returned all my messages from the night before, and gave my room a proper tidy up.
By that point, it was actually quite late in the morning, so I went to ask the nurses if I’d be going out before or after lunch (which is at midday), just cuz I hate sitting around just waiting for an unknown point in time. I was told it would be in like 10 minutes, so I went and just did a bit of colouring in my room.

I bumped in to Julius while I was out, and thanked him very sincerely for the night before. He said that he had just been so pained to see me hurting so much. He is such a genuine man, a real kind soul. Some of the staff just do their job and then go home, but the ones who care are absolute gold. And as a patient, you really can tell which end of the spectrum each and every one of them sit on.

By the time we got out for a walk (2:1 – two of them to one of me after last night, so that’s fun) it was just like a big rambling word vomit about the night before. I like walking though, because you can talk to someone without looking at them face to face – that can be pretty intense. I think we walked for 15 minutes, and I literally just spent it doing one big really fast (borderline manic) monologue.
Felt good to get it all of my chest though in the light of day – the night before I just hadn’t been able to articulate myself, and I also hadn’t had the chance to write it up yet, so it was all pent up inside me.

The glory of the car park

I wore my leopard print Airmax, and my big white sunnies too – felt pretty badass.

A very unfabulous picture of my fucking fabulous shoes

Lunch was chicken nacho bake and roast potatoes, which I did not hold out much hope for, but…


It was also vaguely spicy. I went back for seconds. And then thirds, where she had clearly cottoned on to my chicken loving ways by this point, and just gave me two more. So I ended up eating four chicken breasts.
I don’t think the staff or the patients could believe it. I could though. That’s just a standard Lucy meal. It definitely will have gone in my notes – ‘Four chicken breasts Lucy? That’s insane’.

I definitely have to watch Peep Show now

By the end of it, I was actually full. I genuinely cannot remember the last time I was full. It’s been weeks and weeks. Nothing can fill me up as much as meat does (lol). Couldn’t be a veggie even if I wanted to.

After that, I wrote up the account of what had happened the night before, and it apparently took me two whole hours.

Where I do all the writing

I was just texting some more people back, when who I think might be my Keyworker(?) came in with a sick note for me, and we had a bit of a chat about the night before, how I was doing, and what I can do when I get in to the kind of situation I was in the night before. The bottom line is that they want me to approach them. They keep saying that. And I generally do.
I explained again why I like to spend a lot of time in my room, said that I am generally a really sociable person, but I can’t stand just sitting around listening to the radio. She said that there is an activities coordinator, but that she’s off sick atm. I said that I’ve been referred to OT (Occupational Therapy), and will ask them a bit more about activities off the ward. I know that they exist (like ‘community garden’, and ‘jewellery making’) but I just don’t know how to access them, or if I’m even allowed atm, because I’m still under such close supervision.
I will have well and truly fucked my hope of going off 10 minute obs last night btw, which is pretty frustrating.

After that, I had an absolutely savage headache, so got some pain relief, opened my window and just sat by it.

The window is caged though, so there’s like a little mesh between me and the outside, and it feels a bit prisony.

Prison mesh. Ya get me?

This cat walked past, and I tried to get its attention, but it just walked on by. I’m determined to make it my friend though. Psych hospitals should definitely have pets, I’m sure everyone would feel much happier if they did.
Eventually one of the staff came in and was like ‘Lucy, why are you just sitting by the open window in the dark?’. I explained that I had a headache and she suggested I went for a nap, which I did.

As I was lying there, I actually felt hope and optimism for the future. I imagined getting back to work, seeing my friends, and reuniting with my love.
Incredibly rare positive thoughts there.
I just hope I’m not completely deluded.

Dinner was chicken curry and doughnuts (not together, like), which was pretty decent actually. Would have eaten more if I hadn’t eaten, ya know, 4 chicken breasts for lunch.

Julius walked me back to my room afterwards, and said that he wanted to let me know he was actually going back to Africa tomorrow for a month for his yearly holiday. Not guna lie, it made me kinda sad. He is so lovely and kind. And he knows my name! He said he was saying goodbye because he didn’t want to see me here when he gets back, he wants to see me out and about and shout ‘Lucy! There you are! Look at you, you’re so well!’.
What a genuinely lovely man.

Today is the first day since my incarceration admission that I haven’t had any visitors, and you know what, I’m actually pretty pleased to have the evening to myself.
Don’t get me wrong, I like having visitors, but having people come by every day can be pretty exhausting. I don’t think it helps too that my visitors so far have pretty much just been my mum, my dad, my brother, and my sister in law (except for my school BFF 💚💛), and those four have all seen me at my absolute fucking worst over the past few weeks. I didn’t really realise until now, but it evokes a lot of feelings of guilt and shame. I feel awful for what I’ve put them through, and that they had to see me in those kind of states. They could genuinely develop PTSD from the shit they’ve seen, and that’s not even my black humour, it’s an actual worry of mine. Our relationships all have a lot of healing to do.

It’s good to have some time to myself too (even though I spend pretty much all day every day by myself!). I do generally enjoy my own company, and it gives me a bit more time to rest.
On the note of visits though, one of my best girls who I see every single day, says that she wants me to pencil her in for next Wednesday, which I think would be really good. I am pretty certain that by then I will be ready to start seeing my ‘every day’ folk. Definitely needed a bit of a break from each other, because I was being all ill and weird and stuff, but I’m at the point now where I think I’m ready. So that meant an awful lot for her to say that.
Genuinely though, this place does weird things to you – the days all blur in to one, I’ve not been scrolling through social media, so I have no idea what’s going on anywhere else but here.
I’m OK with that too, for now, but dipping my toes in slowly is definitely a step forward.

I miss them, and my life, so so much. The end goal is to get it back.

I’ve actually not seen anyone for 3 hours now, even though I’ve had a couple of waves through the spy slats – just me, my laptop, my phone, and Marilyn Manson – it’s been bliss. I had a look at some pictures that one of my Uni friends sent me, and my God they are hilarious.

I had a proper think about how happy I was back then, and wondered why I was so happy. Because genuinely, those couple of years (after I ditched the abusive boyfriend) were probably the happiest of my life, until fairly recently.


Happy Lucy, circa 2008

It’s easy peasy – I had great friends. I had friends who I saw every day. We went out loads. We had fun. We did things like go for lunch, or to the shopping centre and stuff. And that’s what I’ve had over the past year and a half since I left my husband – my friends are my family.
Don’t get me wrong, I had friends while I was married, but being with him took up so much of my time that I missed out on loads of stuff with them, especially with my weird shifts.

When I left him in June 2018, I had a great summer with my friends (in all honesty, probably too great).
Then there was the dark time – September til February (and I don’t think that’s a coincidence that it’s literally the darkest time of the year) – a haze of self-harming, drugs, bad men, and general misery.

Around March, everything started to feel a bit better, and when I fell in love in May, it felt like my life was complete.
You know what? It was. He was the missing piece. He still is. He is my one.

But I got that balance wrong. Again.

It got to the point, again, where our shifts were so weird, and time off together was so precious, that I’d end up sacking off my friends to spend time with him, and I would expect for him to do the same for me. I love spending time with him more than anything else in the world, but I didn’t give us that break so that we could appreciate the time that we did end up spending together.

That’s completely my bad. That’s what I want to fix.

I still want to be with him more than anything in the world.
But do we have to spend every evening together? No.
Do we have to spend every night together? No.
Do we have to live together right now? No.

I can do this on my own. I can go back to being self-sufficient and enjoying time on my own, but I still want the good things.
I want Nando’s dates.
I want to go to the arcade.
I want to drink beers in bed.
I want to go to the hockey.
I want to go scootin’.
I want to close down all the bars from Neon to Junkers.
I want the things that make us both happy. No pressure. No obligation to spend EVERY MINUTE THAT WE ARE NOT AT WORK WITH EACH OTHER. Just two people, in love, living their lives alongside each other.
I genuinely think we can have that. I hope I’m not deluded, and that he still wants the same once I’m out of here.

The day’s not done, but I think I’m going to post this now, because all I plan on doing from here is watching Drag Race (or maybe Peep Show?…) and drinking tea in bed.

So far, I’ve had no sedation today. Normally, I’m on it by latest of 5PM – it’s now nearly 9. I might have a sleeping pill later, but we’ll see how I go.

Today, has actually been a great day.

Goodnight 🙂 x