You know I’ve been on a journey of discovery – how cliche is that?
I’m only human and I’ve learnt that we really do all have a breaking point, mine has been over a year of tireless journeys and never ending worry for Ava’s health, top that with a new baby and I’m sure most of us would have a wobble.
I had an exceptional wobble which landed me on a psychiatric ward, on lock down not even allowed my Deodrant can. I learnt a lot in the last week i also I learnt how these things are run and about the sorts of people that occupy “those” rooms.
It’s definitely not as the films portray – in the good and bad way.
It’s certainly not filled with doctors in white coats ready to inject you at every given moment. And for the most part they aren’t screaming loons pulling their hair out.
I’ve actually laughed so hard I’ve cried in here. And I’ve learnt I’m normal and it’s okay not to be okay, my biggest achievement is that I no longer feel the need to suffer alone and in silence, yes it’s shit, I feel shit most of the time, but the difference now is that I know nothing can change my situation, BUT now people know they can help me and I have a HUGE team around me, supporting me every single day to make sure I don’t fall back down to where I was.
I’ve met a couple of lovely people here who have helped me to see things clearer and I’ve actually opened up about how I really feel, no fake smiles, I feel safe here knowing I can walk round sad and every one knows and I deal with it in my own way, I won’t be judged and there are gentle encouragements or people there ready to listen.
I’ve been an informal patient on a psychiatric ward that is for generally mentally unstable people and now I’m on a mum and baby unit again as an informal patient. This works for me because I like to be in control. Shocker.
Actually I’ve never realised I’m a control freak, not until a lovely lady from the crisis team came out to my house to do an assessment and she said I was a control freak and I half heartedly laughed, then the switch went. I am a control freak!
Maybe the reason I’m in this situation is because I am too controlling I can’t handle it. I can’t let anyone into my world, I can’t have people looking after my children without having a full on anxiety attack thinking ‘what if’… Gah I hate being me!
So what’s the future? I don’t even know and I can’t see that far ahead.
I feel like all for walls are closing in on me. The worst part is, I have these first time mums around me who are ill too, telling me about traumatic labours, I want to cry.
After having Ava honestly what can be more traumatic then telling yourself, convincing yourself that the tiny human who has no pulse and isn’t breathing is dead. Watching doctors pounding her chest, hearing over the tannoy “maternity code blue” and everyone rushing through with seconds to go before they pronounce her dead.
It’s all I was waiting for.
“Time of death…”
I was expecting it, and it’s tortured my mind for 16 months, it’s eating me alive, it’s taken away my soul. I’ve not got any thing left in me.