Day Thirteen

After I posted Day Twelve I opened up Netflix and I WAS LOCKED OUT. Like, it didn’t even recognise my e-mail address – ‘there is no account associated with this e-mail address’.
YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!
I checked my e-mails and it turned out there’d been rogue check-ins in Delhi, Albania, Vancouver, Berlin… and I was like fuuuuuuuuck. What a time for it to happen…
So I phoned the number, and the nice man actually sorted me out.
Was quite impressed with how it all went down actually, cuz if it had been a few days earlier, I’m not sure if my tablet would still be intact…

Spent loads of time texting people while watching Drag Race. I just couldn’t concentrate, and couldn’t switch off.
I felt really good.
Too good.
My thoughts just kept whirring round my head. They weren’t necessarily bad thoughts, but I just couldn’t slow my brain down. So I ended up taking a sleeping pill, which I didn’t really want to, but I had absolutely no PRN sedation that day for the first time in absolutely weeks.
Progress.

All the while, the woman from the room opposite me was standing in the corridor yelling about how they’d put two extra locks on the doors, and warning us that we could be locked in by the staff (because they did some work on the doors today). She kept pulling the alarm, and standing literally outside my door yelling.
Because I was feeling good, I was just mildly annoyed, but if I’d been bad I would have been in literal hell.
Think they injected her in the end. I heard the nurses talking about it, and then she stopped yelling.


Woke up naturally at 7:20. Shortly after, someone knocked on my door and said ‘Good morning sunshine, your meds are nearly ready!’. I walked down to the clinic room, everyone knew my name, and some of us had a bit of a chat about scrunchies. The charge nurse said that he knew my parents were coming before visiting hours and that was fine.

What a difference that all made to my morning.

Because I’d got up so early, I sat back in bed and watched a bit of Drag Race. Just as the episode finished, the same care worker knocked on again and told me breakfast was ready (perfect timing!). I thought I’d go check it out, cuz I’ve not done breakfast here yet. My choices were toast, cereal, or tinned tomatoes(??), so I just had some toast with marge.

As I was eating, one of my friends – S – asked if she could talk to me later, and she seemed really agitated. I hoped that she just wants to talk about something she’s going through (at the time, I thought the chances were that she wouldn’t even talk to me at all tbh – and I was right, she just got more and more agitated throughout the day, which lead to a full on incident in the evening), but at the same time I was dead paranoid that I’d done something to upset her, and I couldn’t get that thought out of my head.
What if I’ve really upset her?
What if she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore?
What if she hates me so much that I can’t be in the same room as her?
What if she attacks me?
What if I don’t feel safe on the ward anymore?
I did think that the morning was too good to be true…

After breakfast, I asked for fresh sheets and towels, cuz I’ve been here a week now, and between my foundation, mascara and green hair I’ve made a right fucking mess of everything.

Had a shower, changed my bed sheets, and decided it was a rainbow dungarees kind of day. Because it was a super rainy day I figured I’d try and brighten it up a bit.
Of course, everywhere I went everyone was like ‘OMG I LOVE YOUR DUNGAREES’, apart from some of the patients who just stared at me with proper stank face, but fuck ‘em.
It always happens when I wear something ‘out there’, and often with my hair too – I’ll get loads of comments and just be like ‘yeh, thanks *eye roll*’ (like I don’t actually eye roll because I’m not a complete cow, but that’s what I feel like doing) cuz I get it over and over again, and it gets really old just saying ‘thanks’, ‘thanks’ over and over again.
But then again, if no one says anything I’m like, WHY HAS NO ONE SAID ANYTHING? THEY MUST HATE IT!
Such a fucking idiot brain – cant win.

Decided to sit out for a bit, cuz my desk in my room faces the wall, so all that goes in my eyes are fluorescent lights. The charge nurse saw that I was prowling round with my laptop, asked if I’d like somewhere quiet to sit, and found me a side room with a nice big(ish) window. He was really insistent on doing something for me – getting me a hot drink, suggesting I could call my parents, turning the lights on or off – he was really overly nice!

Sat in the side room for a while until a woman called N came and spoke to me. She’s quite old, has a tremor, I find it really difficult to understand what she’s saying, and she can talk about stuff that I’m fairly sure hasn’t actually happened.
I was trying to write, and she was trying to talk to me, and they were having like a fucking disco in the communal area right outside the door. And I mean a literal disco – complete with 90’s dance music, singing and dancing.
It was all just so overwhelming that I came back to my room.

After I got my piece of writing on Darth Vader done (sounds weird, I know, but you can check it out here…)

https://lucysback.com/2020/02/28/darth-vader/

I went and sat out in the communal area to wait for lunch.
Pretty much as soon as I got there, everyone left and went to the dining room, and I took it really fucking personally (even though everyone had obviously, in hindsight, just gone for lunch).
Where to sit at lunch is also a minefield. I ended up sitting with the woman who thinks she’s a nurse, but she ate really quickly and left, so I was just on my own.
This one girl came in, and she had dye on her hair because she’s going bright purple, so I tried to talk to her about it, but she went and sat somewhere else.
Everyone else left, so I went and sat with K until she finished her dinner (she took ages), so we could have a bit of a chat, and I could try and remind myself that not everyone on the ward hates me.
After lunch I sat out in the communal area again, but no one was really talking, and I felt really uncomfortable, like no one likes me, so I decided to go back to my little bubble and hide in my room until my parents arrived.
It’s just so different to how I felt when I was in the last hospital. I felt like I could walk around there with my head held high, and I was one of the more outgoing ones. Here, I’m one of the quiet ones, and just keep myself to myself. The communal area is just so loud though. It’s all or nothing, and it’s totally overwhelming. Whereas at the last ward, the telly would murmur away quietly in the background, and the staff and patients would just happily sit around and chat.

While I was in my room, I played a game of Risk on my tablet (fucking love Risk), and started to feel really fucking anxious. Like tingling in my hands, sick in my stomach, and butterflies, for no obvious reason, so I went to see the nurse and ask for some PRN sedation.
He looked at my drug card, and said he thinks I need writing up for some more things (faster acting sedation – for emergencies), which a couple of the other nurses have said too, so will see what happens with that.

After that, I got in to bed, watched some Drag Race, and took a nap.

When I woke up, it felt like a new day.
I made myself a coffee, and while I was at the water machine I saw that K and one of the members of staff were playing Ludo. They said they’d wanted me to play too, but had seen that I was asleep, so they left me. It was really nice though that they thought of me.
Got my laundry and other bits and bobs ready for my parents, and waited for them to arrive.

We had a really good visit!
Talked for just over an hour. My mum told me all about her trip down to London the day before, and we chatted about bits and bobs that have been going on with me here. Was good to actually talk to them, because we haven’t done that for weeks. All of the time we’ve spent together has been stressful, fraught, and pretty centred on my care. A couple of times my mind spiralled off a bit, but it was one of the best visits I’ve had since I was admitted.
Progress.


My mum also bought me a book called GuRu, which is basically just full of pictures of RuPaul looking fabulous and sassy, motivational quotes – it’s brilliant!

We also talked a bit about my meds, and how it may not be a coincidence that I had such a great day yesterday after that hefty dose of antipsychotic the night before. After my ‘breakthrough’ moment last night too, I realised that the time when I was happiest last year (spring – autumn) not only coincided with the days being longer, but with me being on antipsychotics as opposed to mood stabilisers (which I am on now), so that’s something I am definitely going to mention to the consultant on Monday.
I came off them because they had such sedating side effects, but it’s worth it if I can lead an otherwise healthy life.

Anything is better than this.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, it was dinner time, so my parents left.

The shouty lady was being extra super shouty. Normally she quietens down once she gets in to the dining room, but on this occasion she did not! And then she threw her dinner across the room.
I waited outside while it all cracked off, and talked to one of the staff how anxious the loud noises make me. I explained that I know she’s not going to harm me, and that I’m safe, but it’s just a physical reaction – I genuinely can’t stand it.
Once she left, I went in, and by that time the vegetarian option (margherita pizza) was gone, and the meat option (shepherd’s pie) was the only thing left. I had some, but within my first two mouthfuls had to pick two bits of gristle out of my mouth. A 100% gristle rate. I vow from hereon to avoid all mince in this place – it’s so fucking awful.
I just ate the mash off the top, then asked for a super big portion of the dessert – rhubarb crumble.

Couldn’t really decide what to do once I got back to my room after dinner.
I left a couple of times to head to the communal area, but it was just so loud there that I kept turning back.
I want to be around people, but at the same time, being around people is just too much.

I decided to do a bit of writing, and then I really felt like doing some colouring on my tablet. Problem is that I’m really struggling to do that while listening to music because my mind wanders. That’s when I remembered my cousin had suggested I listen to The Guilty Feminist podcast, which I’d been meaning to for ages anyway, so I listened to an hour of that while colouring in a mandala, and I really enjoyed it.

The episode was all about nudity and body confidence.
Just to go off on a bit of a tangent, I genuinely do not care about being naked. I pretty much spend my whole time naked when I’m in my flat, whether it’s just me or if my boyfriend is there too. I don’t care about communal showers, or getting changed in front of friends (male or female).
In a lot of respects, I’m proud of my body. I’m about a UK 16, with big tits and a big arse, and a comparatively small waist – like an hourglass. Got big bingo wings though, about seven chins, and a stupid gummy smile. Everyone has stuff they hate about themselves though, right?
What I do struggle with sometimes are my leg scars, but mostly cuz I know they freak people out. Generally though, I’m fairly happy with being thicc, and being in my body (until I see photos and then I’m like OMG MY CHINS AND MICHELIN ARMS).
At school and uni I used to flash my boobs a lot (I do like my boobs), it was like my ‘thing’.
Probably should have realised then that I was a total mad head…

One of the staff came round doing obs (yes, I’m still being checked on every 10 minutes…), and I had a bit of a chat with her about how I’ve been feeling. I explained how I just couldn’t deal with the communal area and other patients today. She asked if I was always sensitive to light and sound, and I was like oh fuck yeh.
She asked if I was autistic. I said no. I honestly don’t think I am though. I clearly have some kind of sensory disorder, but I’ve met enough ASD people to be pretty sure that that’s not what’s going on with me.

It’s got to that time now where I think I’m just going to drink tea and watch Drag Race in bed, so hopefully there’ll be nowt more to report.

NIGHT!

Tomorrow’s freaking me out a bit though… THE DAY THAT DOES NOT EXIST!
(February 29th)
Genuinely don’t like it!

One thought on “Day Thirteen

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