It’s taking some time to recover from my overdose. My body has experienced it as a trauma. Two days ago I started bleeding. It was as though I’d got my period, but the timing was all off because I got my period only two weeks ago and had stopped bleeding a week ago. I was out with my mum at the time. I told her something was wrong with me and left the shop. She wanted to take me back to the hospital but I just wanted to go home. I honestly didn’t care if I died, I was over everything.

I’ve also been jittery and shaky. I struggled to write on my dad’s birthday card yesterday as my hand was not steady.

The last I remember of that night I overdosed was speaking on the phone to Lifeline. Dad said I knocked on his door and then the police and an ambulance came. He said he thought the parademic administered a drug to try and reverse the overdose. If I had of been in my right mind I wouldn’t have agreed to it.

Through the fog I was in I saw the psych person who assessed me when I first presented to ED earlier in the week. He said he was going to put me in their short stay psych ward. It was a bit late for that; if he had of admitted me earlier maybe I wouldn’t have overdosed.

Emotionally, I’m irritable and I can’t stand being around my dad, who is always talking to me and dumping his own obsessions on me. The other night I ate my dinner on a stack of books in the study just to get some space.

I’m sleeping better now that I’m on the olanzapine again. I’m sleeping, perhaps, TOO much now. Today I woke up at 4:30pm, just as it was getting dark. I have a headache and can barely do anything. Hence this is going to be a short post.