This time six years ago I was taken to a psych ward for the first time after my psychologist told me she would not see me anymore. I was found lying on the nature strip by a road. When I was in the psych ward I had no idea where the fuck I was. My psychologist called me and accused me of going to hospital to punish her/make her feel bad. After that phone call I fell to the ground and cried. My nurse told me to get up, that I was acting like a baby, and threatened to inject me. The nurses were horrid. I felt so unsafe there I couldn’t sleep and looked dreadful. I tried to leave but couldn’t. I called the police but they wouldn’t do anything. When I finally got out I was very disoriented and kept having nightmares that I was still there.
While six years have passed I am not any better. It feels as though I am frozen in this kind of sickness amber, a bit like how I felt in the ward, stuck in this hole (the ward was at the bottom of the hospital, with the rest of the hospital up above) while cars passed by on the other side of the wall. I am caught in limbo between life and death, like the weather is torn between summer and winter. I don’t know if I really want to die, I more want the pain I am in physically and emotionally to end. I am too sensitive for this world. This world has damaged me and I don’t know if I will ever heal. Last night I started reading about how to hang myself. It made me cringe. It seems like such a barbaric act. It really fucking saddens me that it’s come to this, and I can’t say I’m not scared to go. I haven’t been sleeping well lately and get anxiety attacks at night where for a second I feel like I’ve died. There are no angels, no heaven, no return home. Just pitch darkness. Nothingness. It is not peaceful at all. It’s terrifying. As Robbie Williams sings, “I don’t wanna die But I ain’t keen on living either”.
One of the worst parts of all this is not being able to cry when you want to. That is when you know you are deep in the grips of depression. Tears filled my eyes last night but not many made it out. My eyes burned like I’d just poured acid into them. It is said crying flushes stress hormones and other toxins out of our system. Last night it felt like they were all stuck in my eyes and it was excruciating. Finally my eyes watered and washed them out.
I don’t think I can feel any more hopeless than I did last night. As I wrote in another post it is like the time I nearly drowned. In the water there were people near me but I realised I could still drown. I have NDIS, I walk with my dad weekly, I have a few friends, I see my psychologist weekly and I see my case worker fortnightly, but there’s little they can do. I’ve thought about going to hospital again but I know there’s nothing they can do for me either and they are part of the problem. They are like the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood, disguised as help when really they just destroy people on every level.
April 5, 2022 at 4:36 am
You’re not the only one who has had these difficulties with the mental health profession. I could regale you with stories about how the profession is only set up to deal with problems it has already identified. It has its own set of lenses. Maybe you just don’t fit into their conception of the world. It’s no wonder you have had these agonizing encounters.