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suicide

Negligent hospitals, mute, trauma, autistic burn out and the fight for freedom

“You build me up, you break me down. My heart it pounds, yeah you got me. With my hands up, you got me now, you got that sound, yeah you got me.” Ke$ha – TiK ToK

It is the first time I’ve been able to blog since my last post a week or so ago. It’s felt like the longest week of my life. I feel like I could write a whole book on this week alone. The disturbing saga continues, without resolution, like a piano with endless keys which just get lower and lower.

The psych ward only gave me two nights, even though I asked for longer. They wanted to dump me in a facility called PARC, a non-clinical mental health facility, which people stay in for a week as a “step down” from hospital, or a “step up” from home to prevent a hospital admission. But there were questions about my medical stability. I was barely eating and the hospital wanted to do a blood sugar level test which involves pricking your finger but I was scared of the test so refused it. The nurses said they’d come back in half an hour. I then got in the shower when they came to the door to avoid getting the test done. I was so traumatised in general- by life, by the way they just wanted me out when I was acutely unwell- that I became mute. I am still speculating on what is causing my muteness, which I will discuss later, but whatever it was, I just couldn’t will myself to speak. The day of my discharge one of the doctors came in and told me PARC wouldn’t take me if I wouldn’t speak. I felt like she thought I was being manipulative and could blackmail me into talking. I brought up The Shutdown Dissociation Scale research paper on my phone and showed it to her. One of the symptoms is muteness. There is some more great information about the different responses to trauma on this page.

“We don’t follow that here,” the doctor said.

She said if I didn’t go to PARC they’d just be sending me home. I couldn’t believe it.

“So you’re just going to send me home in this state?” I wrote to her, with gestures of disbelief. “This is discrimination against people with disabilities.”

Becoming non-verbal is common in autism when we become overwhelmed, as is shown in the series Heartbreak High, with one of the autistic characters, Quinni, becoming mute for a while after her horrible girlfriend put her through hell.

“I’ll get your discharge papers ready,” the doctor told me. “Have a good day!” Continue reading “Negligent hospitals, mute, trauma, autistic burn out and the fight for freedom”

Distressed and trying to get a leg up

I have not been ok since I wrote my last post. I agreed to be discharged from the hospital as I had this holiday booked, but yesterday I wished someone had of stepped in and said “you’re not well enough to go on holiday, you need to stay in hospital” and worked hard to get me in a better place.

My dad picked me up from the emergency department Saturday morning and we stopped at the supermarket on the way home. I hadn’t shopped for ages as I’d been too depressed, and I still barely had it in me. I was wearing my dirty PJs as I never have it in me to wash my clothes and my parents never taught me how to use the dryer. I also had no shoes. It was raining and I tip toed through the puddles and wet ground in bare feet. Continue reading “Distressed and trying to get a leg up”

Post-OD update

In the aftermath of that night I overdosed, I’ve been hiding away as I deal with the wreckage. It’s been a few months and I still have a tremor and heart issues. My heart literally aches and it races when I change position. I’m also not able to sleep on my right side as I hear and feel the pulse in my right ear pounding. All I want in this life is to feel comfortable in my body, and if I could take back what I did I would. Sometimes I wish it had of killed me. I have suffered enough. Continue reading “Post-OD update”

Chase me and leave me alone: the paradox

dont get attached

I am both in pain and emotionally dead. I don’t know how I can be in so much pain and so empty at the same time. I guess the pain doesn’t fill me, but consumes me. It is hard to write in this state. Nothing will take this awful feeling away. Continue reading “Chase me and leave me alone: the paradox”

Despair

 

“Oh, angel lost, where do you go? In this cruel world, you feel so low.” AiMusic, “She Was an Angel “

I am not okay, and I have not been okay for a long time. As Alanis Morissette, a fellow HSP, sings in “Diagnosis “, I no longer give a damn about things that used to matter. I don’t give a damn about my life, and I’m beyond giving a damn about what anyone thinks of me. I will take packets of drugs. I will go to the park at 2am in winter and skinny dip in the lake. I will dance without needing alcohol to loosen me up. I will go into public in my PJs. I have found posts written in caps lock I made while having a rage episode on Facebook the other night. As someone commented on a Florence + The Machine music video, the only way to be at peace with death is to live your life without fear and make full use of it. Earn your eternal rest, because death halts for no one. Continue reading “Despair”

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