Posted by James K on January 24, 2006, at 1:30:41
I was going to go inpatient today. I've been outpatient for anyone reading who missed the earlier post about this. I set out to drive over and see about making the transfer. and couldn't find my keys. Turns out they were in my jacket at my friends house from Saturday night. He wasn't home, but he knew he had the jacket.
Here's where things start to go bad. I'm okay with this so far. I decide to walk. I've called my wife - left her hanging only knowing I couldn't find my keys. I've called the clinic, let them know. So I'm going to walk maybe 5 or 6 miles to the hospital. What the hey, i'll sleep good first night in. Why not take the bus, after all it's cold and I do have chronic fatigue syndrome? Naw walk.
Stop at the liquor store to fuel my energy up. Why not, I'm going into the psych ward anyway, nothing happens the first day but sitting around waiting on things. I walk through the city neighborhoods sipping diet coke with jim beam. Stop at another liquor store for another diet coke and little bottle of whiskey. I decide to cut through the university to save distance. I'm feeling good now, a little stumbley but nothing that screams "he doesn't belong here".
Next is a big field. No problem. oops, a fence. I can climb a fence, maybe not. My knuckles where already running a little blood from working out on the heavy bag without gloves saturday night. So now there is a nice little slice on my palm from the fence. Go around the fence and walk down the street by the medical center. Apparently I've gone beyond feeling good and into partial blackout.
Just like that, out of nowhere I'm self injuring right on the major street. no idea how it started. I had dropped my flannel shirt and had to run back to find it. Maybe the exertion of that changed something upstairs. I think I was hitting my head with my (closed) pocket knife. I know I slammed my forehead into a big metal light post. really don't know why.
Then something new - never happened before. I stabbed my swiss army knife right into my forearm. Now I'm walking down a major street in the early afternoon with blood running down my face and shirt. leaving trails down my arm and on the sidewalk. And I'm lost. I'm not on the right street anymore.
A true good samaritan ran up to see if I was okay, and I told him I was trying to go to the hospital. He tried to call an ambulance at the store, but one turned up out of the blue (or not) this is hazy and in pieces (like me). I end up in city hospital with some interesting people. fortunately no one was willing to direct trouble in my direction. Ambulance guy called my wife, she trained it over from work (another missed day thanks to me).
I stayed there for a while. They had trouble understanding the concept that there was a hospital expecting me. They made my wife go away, she got mad and I threw a cup of water at the cop guy and said "f*ck you bitch" and started to get up, but he was cool about it. They cleaned me up and put strips on the stab in my arm and my split head. I talked to some of the other guys and punched myself in the head region several times. Once to show a med student what I thought about my wife being sent out. But it really was kind of peaceful and people had good attitudes. Then they said my hospital had no beds open so I could go. Got my clothes, my wife, signed some paper and bussed it home.
I've got a black lump on side of forehead, big steri-stip laceration in middle of forehead. Jaws and temples swollen and sore. And a goddamned stab hole in my forearm. Bloody knuckles left hand, possible refracture right hand. But I'm not in the hospital . and that was the point of the morning and the last two days and all the blocking out the horribleness of it. My pdoc didn't answer his phone. my pnurse talked to my wife twice saying bring him in. But I was told there was no room in the inn.
Now I don't want to go in anymore. My whole body is sore and I can't sleep. New wounds to hide and be embarrassed about, new scars to live with. I don't think they understood the depth of my stab, because they didn't prescribe any antibiotics or anything. the wound is oozing through the strips. I gave my knife to the good samaritan and told him to please put it in a dumpster or something.
Thought about things some
I don't want to kill myself
I don't want to die (not exactly the same thing)
I don't like being drunk
I don't like hitting myself
I don't like being in blackout statejust under the surface, something incredibly ugly and horrible is me. I don't know how to get well. I'm trying to do the right things to solve this problem so I can go back to a more normal lifestyle. I am making horrible decisions. I don't understand therapy and I don't understand the meds. I need to go tomorrow and show all of my friends at the hospital. "this is what mental illness looks like" so we can take a day off from discussing their codependent ex-boyfriends and figure out either why I do this or how to stop it.
I can't believe I live like this.
James K
poster:James K
thread:602300
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/psycho/20060121/msgs/602300.html