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HOSPITAL DIARY ENTRIES
                                                   
*Names of doctors and hospitals have been omitted


                                                                                        

                                                                                           Friday 1st September 1995

The reason I havenít written for so long is because Iíve spent the last month in hospital , upstairs in the crazy ward. The first week I tried to do a legger , there was only one nurse on , most of the nurses were on their break and someone had forgotten to lock the door to the ward. What I was wearing didnít really look like pyjamas, it was just a long T Ė shirt and a pair of leggings and because I had been admitted on such short notice I didnít have any slippers so they allowed me to keep my shoes. When the nurse wasnít looking I grabbed my wallet and ran out of the ward. When I got downstairs I hid in one of the toilets ( the ones nobody uses) for ages in the hope that everyone would think I was gone and give up looking for me. Eventually I ran and I was nearly at the door when my doctor and 2 male nurses from the ward walked around the corner , they had been looking for me and obviously hadnít given up .
I nearly died. I tried running the other way but because I was so drugged I didnít get very far. The 2 male nurses ran after me , got my arms and pinned them to my back, up around my shoulder blades . It was really sore but I did kick one of them where it hurts which was so satisfying. I was dragged up to the maximum security part of the locked ward kicking and screaming and then drugged even more. They left me there for 5 days. I got 2 sessions of abreaction which is where they put you a sort of anaesthetic thing , itís like being drunk and then I was asked all these questions about my past and stuff like that. Last Monday I tried to hang myself in the shower but I got caught so I was put into the maximum security unit again and left there until I was discharged yesterday, I had no choice . I had to go because my VHI has run out again because Iíve been in that bloody place for 6 months this year. So basically Iím screwed again. They reduced my medication when I left so now Iím on Seroxat  (antidepressant), Xanax( tranquilliser), Sparine( sedative thing , I think ) and Rohypnol  (sleeping tablets) but I am still kind of like a zombie.


                                                                                    Tuesday 6th February 1996

Iím back in the lunatic asylum. My life is crap


                                                                                    Wednesday 7th February 1996

Well naturally Iím still here in the mad house. I saw the doctor this morning and theyíre going to start me on Lithium. Great Iím a manic-depressive, another thing to add to my list of shit .



                                                                                      Thursday 20th March 1996

Iím still in the mad house. Iím still getting ECT. Iíve had 6 so far , Iím having another one tomorrow and I think it might be the last one but I donít believe anything doctors are saying . OK. The truth about my first ECT. I was downstairs with the 2 other ďECT victims ď. Nearly everyone who sees you walking downstairs at 8.30 in the morning in your pyjamas knows where youíre going. When I was in the last time we used to see them going down and people used to slag them and make jokes about them behind their backs. Now I am one of them. To make things worse , when you are brought back up to the ward afterwards , you are brought up in a wheelchair with ďECTĒ painted in big black letters on the back of it. The first time I went down I started to panic; I was so scared. I kept saying to the nurse ď I donít need this , I am OK, bring me back to the ward - Please ď but she just grabbed my arm and told me to stop being ridiculous, that ECT was the only way Iíd get better and out of the hospital. When we were waiting in the waiting room I was getting more and more nervous and when they finally brought me into the room where they perform the ECT, I freaked.
It was a horrible room with all this weird looking equipment. The doctor that was there and I think it was 2 nurses, had to hold me down ( if they needed all of them to hold me down then I canít be as thin and undernourished as they keep being told I am Ė theyíre all liars ). I kept pleading with them to stop but they wouldnít listen and then I felt the needle going into my arm and I knew that was the anaesthetic. I opened my eyes as wide as I could and willed myself to stay awake but it was no use. I felt like an animal, it was one of the worst experiences Iíve ever been through. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the Ď recovery roomí and I felt really sick and I had a splitting headache. Itís not helping me, I donít feel better, I still wish I was dead. Iím just dying to get out of this place so I can just end all this torture. 2 or 3 weeks ago I did something really stupid, I am cringing now when I think about how pathetic and stupid I was. One night I felt really down and depressed so I searched through my stuff looking for something sharp  so I could slit my wrists but I had nothing. I found a plastic bag and it had a warning on it to keep it away from children to prevent suffocation so being the stupid cow I am, I put it over my head in the hope of suffocating myself. Off course one of the nurses caught me and I was dragged kicking and screaming upstairs to the locked ward for serious lunatics. I think I was there for a week but Iím not sure and I donít remember much of it, thankfully , because they seriously increased my medication so I wasnít really in the land of the living I( Iím still not ). I donít know whether itís the medication or if its because Iím crazy but most of the time I feel like Iím just floating around the corridors, like a ghost or a spirit or something. I donít feel like me anymore



                                                                                      Wednesday 24th April 1996
 

2 or 3 weeks after being discharged from the psychiatric hospital
Well what a shit week. At the moment Iím lying in bed in hospital ( general hospital no psychiatric) but apparently Iím going home tomorrow( well after I see my psychiatrist who honestly doesnít give a shit ). On Saturday I felt completely shit and took 100 Librium with a can of Budweiser with bleach and a bottle of ĎStain Devilí in it, hence my week in hospital. Dad found me unconscious on my bed ; mum called the doctor who then called an ambulance. When I came around they took an oxygen mask off my face and pulled a tube out of my throat. Then I was made to drink a bottle of charcoal which was completely disgusting. Iíve just have spent the last hour crying my eyes out. I hate it here. At the moment I still feel suicidal, lonely, depressed, hopeless, afraid, guilty, lost. I feel like Iím down a black hole and there is no way of getting out. I feel as if Iím trapped in some kind of Ďworld Ď where the only feeling is misery, there is no light, everything is darkness, deep inside Iím falling apart. Iím trapped.
Thereís no way out Ö..




                                                                                  Saturday 5th September 1998


I sort of flipped again today because of all the shit in my head. I cut my wrist this morning. None of the nurses noticed. When I flipped the duty doctor was called up and he wrote me up for an extra 50mg of Melaril. I was told I was Ďdisphoricí by one of the doctors today. Of course they wouldnít tell what that means.




                                                                                     Sunday 6th September 1998


Iím pretty zonked from medication. They noticed my wrist and all the nurses said to me was that I was being ridiculous and stupid and then he told me to hide and go down to breakfast. Dear God sometime maybe you will free me from this horrible, cruel world.



                                                                                     Friday 11th September 1998


Everything I write here will probably not make sense because Iím drugged out of it
( due to medication, I was unable to concentrate long enough to write a full sentence and when I could, it usually didnít make any sense )


                                                                                    Sunday 13th September 1998


I am still bombed on tablets. Iím too confused to write anymore.



                                                                                   Tuesday 15th September 1998


Iím zonked but Iíll try and write anyway. This morning I was lying on my bed Ö.
Oh God , Iíll have to write again because I/m not able to make sense.
LATER Ė This morning I was lying on my bed and mum came to visit me. I went to sit up and talk to her but she said ď donít get up, lie back down and talk to meĒ, so I did. I was talking to her for a little while but then I noticed that she wasnít answering me anymore so I sat up and she was gone. I ran down the ward looking for her but I couldnít find her so I asked one of the nurses where was she. The nurse looked at me strangely and said that my mum hadnít been in to see me at all today and she was right because mum rang me and I asked her had she been in and she said no. I must be going mad if Iím seeing and talking to people who arenít actually there. My head is obviously screwed up completely.



                                                                                  Monday 21st September 1998

Oh God , they just weight me and they have decided that if I loose anymore weight Iíll be on bed rest which means not only are you confined to bed but you are not allowed visitors, telephone calls, showers, and loads of other things.



                                                                                 Tuesday 22nd September 1998

They weight me this morning and I was up a pound but I had purposely drank loads of water and put batteries and money and a bottle of nail varnish in my dressing gown pockets so Iím not on bed rest, thank God. One of the nurses was giving out to me today about my eating and she said that the other day she was trying to wake me up for lunch but I was too weak to get up. I donít remember that. Everybody is getting annoyed with me because I keep repeating myself but its because of the medication.



                                                                                    Friday 25th September 1998

Iím on bloody bed rest just because I lost 3 pounds since Tuesday. I had drunk loads of water before getting weighted but my weight was still down. I donít understand why they would put someone as fat as me on bed rest. They only want me to get fatter.





                                                                                  Tuesday 29th September 1998


Dinner is over now but the battle has only started. One of the nurses brought my dinner to me, threw it at me and said ď Eat that, all of thatĒ, Then she said it was a waist of time me being here, because Iím on bed rest I should be eating more! I donít think so! She said I might as well be at home. I got weighed and Iíve lost 2 pounds since I was on bed rest. Ha ! Iím winning the battle ( just about ).I think the nurses have given up on me and food.




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