I woke up in the morning with a pain in my ribcage. My back was in absolute bits all morning. Probably from being so inactive the day before.
I started by cleaning up my room, and took my bin down. Then I washed my hair.
I’ve found myself in a better mood if my hair is down rather than scraped back in a messy knot or a ponytail. I prefer my reflection in the mirror, just feel more confident, and I also really like twiddling my hair.
In the morning, I got a call completely out of the blue from the lovely nurse from the Crisis Team who had come to visit me the first couple of times after I got out of hospital.
She asked how my appointment had gone the day before, and I told her I was really happy with it.
She said that the Crisis Team were happy to discharge me from their services to the Local Mental Health Team (LMHT), which means I am now just a regular person in the community with mental health issues, rather than someone in ‘crisis’.
It changed my attitude somewhat. It’s closure on this whole crisis episode.
I’m still not better, I’m far from best, but I am on the road to recovery rather than in the thick of it.
If the virus didn’t exist and I was still in hospital, this is the point where I would probably be discharged. But I do wonder if I actually would have been. The real turning point has been antidepressants, which they weren’t prescribing me in hospital because my depression went unidentified. My recovery would have taken a completely different route.
Given the circumstances, everything’s worked out for the best, and is definitely heading in the right direction.
She really hammered home that if I do need any help, to call the 24/7 Crisis Team number, because I am still open to their services, even though I’m not actively being seen, which is reassuring.
After lunch my mum and I went for a walk, and came across a load of bluebells again.
She took a picture of me in a tree, at my request.
I want to remember this day.
When I got back, I felt really jittery. I couldn’t stop fiddling with my hair, jigging my leg, and biting the inside of my lip while I was watching Netflix, so I decided to change my bedsheets and clean my bathroom.
My bathroom had got in to a bit of a state, so that took a lot of time and effort.
My double bed has a really deep mattress, and is up against a wall, so putting the bottom sheet is a fucking nightmare. I ended up snapping off a really long fingernail, which then started to piss blood everywhere (including on my fresh sheets).
After that I felt even worse than I had done before. My hand was visibly shaking, and I couldn’t stop sweating. It took me about 2 hours and a diazepam pill to return back to normal.
Fucking side effects. This was day 2 of my antidepressants being increased.
We had pizza for dinner again, which was really good, and then we went out to clap for the carers, as is the way at 8PM every Thursday.
After that, I felt exhausted, and barely made it to 10PM before I went to sleep.