It is nearing the end of my hospital admission, which is always difficult for me. It takes me a long time to settle in and when I finally feel settled I have to leave. It is hard to face the outside world after being in hospital. Each time I’ve taken leave I’ve been anxious to return. I’ve found it hard to be in public, and until today I didn’t have much contact with friends from the outside world either. Part of what makes it so hard is that I don’t really have a place that feels like home. I will have to go back to either my mum’s house or my dad’s house when what I really need is my own space. I don’t feel “held” emotionally by either parent, like I do in hospital. I feel uncomfortable showing vulnerability/emotion. I will miss being in a place where we can be so open about where our head’s at.

During this stay the nurses have seen parts of me that usually would stay hidden. I had another “shut down” on Friday (something I have written about before here). I was found on the ground outside the clinic. I could barely talk and my limbs were limp. The nurses had to lift me into a wheelchair to get me back inside. I was very out of it. I didn’t mean to cause such a commotion, and really hated myself on Friday, but I also appreciated people’s concerns. The shrink said I was dissociating (hurray, he knows something about dissociation!), and tells me mindfulness is the answer! But the thing is, I actually felt more connected to people whilst in this state of consciousness than I do usually. It is like when we drink alcohol and lose our inhibitions. I could also feel things I don’t usually feel. I even felt something sexual at one point, which shocked me as I identify as asexual and these feelings are very alien to me. I could still feel the nurse’s touch and I felt comforted by her touch. Again, I felt a lot younger than I am biologically, like a little child who is just learning to speak. I have been talking with my psychologist about Dissociative Identity Disorder and whether I may have it. Something I want people to know is that the person who fronts the most is really just another alter. Just because they front the most doesn’t make them the “real” personality.

I have had a bit of respite here. I have picked up painting again, and been talking with another patient who is also autistic. I don’t sit in my pyjamas all day but get dressed. I brought some nice clothes and I put effort into my dress, which makes me feel better. I am not as suicidal, but my mood is still low most of the time, and while I’m not going out of my way to kill myself, sometimes I really don’t care if I die. There are times like tonight where I turn to online shopping again or engage in endless scrolling on social media. Sometimes nothing seems to help and everything feels dull and meaningless. My shrink won’t chart me my Dexamphetamine because he thinks it might exacerbate my “psychotic” tendencies, but I snuck some in with me and have been taking it the past few days. To be honest it doesn’t help with my ADD… I just use it to get high (though even that is a bit hit and miss). As for my anxiety, this has actually got worse since being here. The anxiety feels very physical. I feel it in my stomach and cannot pin point a cause. Often it feels like I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack. Friday was the worst; I felt like I was on drugs and was going to die. I suspect, being an empath, I am absorbing the negative emotions of the other patients. The past week it feels like I’m being marinated in negativity. It will probably be good for me to get out. I tell myself I can always come back, and hopefully with a different psychiatrist next time (a topic for another post).