Sweet Sweet Home
Hey peeps.
Well I’m back home, by some miracle. Was released long before I expected to be from St Ann’s hospital. Guessing that the influx of new and quite disturbed patients had something to do with it. I was high on the list of ‘patients who don’t really need this’.
Truthfully the place itself made me feel quite ill. It really did.
Can’t describe how grateful and thankful I am to be back in my own little nest. Sometimes it feels like a ship on the high seas, sometimes like a stable for horses. But it’s all mine. I dreamed of these early mornings. Why did I wake up so early here when in the hospital I stayed asleep far longer? Self-preservation maybe? The mornings are just an inconvenience there, like pretty much everything else. You even have to beg the nurses for hot water to make a foul plastic cup of instant coffee.
Here they are my sacred time. Thank you oh thank you oh thank you psych gods!
In terms of my mental state, well I can see that some of my behaviour over the end of last year could be interpreted as ‘high’ though not really manic as such. The sheer volume of posts on facebook for instance, and the slightly portentous tone of some of them. I was just a little too ‘into’ my grind!
Quite often the mental health services see me as ‘vulnerable’, which I fuckin’ hate. I feel it gives me no credit for my ability to self-preserve and the fact that I am far from self-neglectful, cooking beautiful meals for myself, bathing every day and wearing clean clothes and generally steering clear of trouble. Though trouble still finds me it has to be said (witness Solly).
But ohmigosh I had just been freed from Mile End hospital after only two weeks(so much nicer in every way than St Ann’s, but STILL the last place I wanted to be), I have to question why this happened. I was two and a half weeks on the ward at St Ann’s, despite being served with a Section Three.
Then again it has given me time to reflect on the Solly situation and come up with the conclusion that I should steer clear of him. His nasty side which I’ve seen nuff times, plus the financial drain.
Well on the agenda for these first days back is yet another phone call to the council regarding the water leak. Buy a few groceries. Pick up communication with my mum, and through her, with my son.
Am I Still Ill? 