I was pretty wound up earlier today. (SPOILER: People grossed out by blood or cutting, skip now to the next post.)
Anyway, they do obviously try to make the ward “safe” or at least “safer”, but that is a matter of degree. If you are really motivated you can manage with limited resources. Look how inspirational I sound; “You can do anything if you only put your mind to it!”
So I found a cord clip attached to my bed that had little metal teeth on it. Like a binder clip but with sawtooth teeth. I was feeling pretty upset (like since I’ve gotten here!) so started to see if I could cut my arm, just once, to blow off some steam.
Of all the times for nurses to vary their routine… my evening nurse (there’s a big board beside the nursing station telling you who you are assigned to) walked back into the room. I swear she just left a few minutes ago!
So when I saw her I went to shove my arm and the clip under the blanket amd say “Oh hi!” casually, with all the panache of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked, amd I said “Nuthin'”, totally not convincingly at all, so she came right up and asked what I had there, and I told her she wasn’t going to like it. (She didn’t lol.)
I hadn’t even gotten through the skin yet, it was just at that level of scratch where you can see redder skin underneath and the surrounding skin is pink and puffy. So then feeling that rawness against my sleeve made me really want to finish – just cut enough to draw blood and release endorphins.
So today I’m feeling stressed, some people have responded badly to knowing I’m in here which stresses me out. I don’t really have a budget and haven’t yet seen anything of this social worker the nurses all assure me is so great at dealing with these issues. Just all this.
The psychiatrist, who is subbing fof my regular, comes to your bed to get you which is logical if you are in bed in the hospital but quite different from a regular office visit. So I’m wearing yoga pants and a Tshirt to bed because normally I wear a yank top and panties. So yah, you just drag yourself out of bed and go gave a quick check in with your bedhead hair.
Anyway, he didn’t ask about the clip or the cutting and I didn’t bring it up; I said I could tell him all kinds of things that he would say were depression but that they seemed true to me; I said I really didn’t believe my life was worth living and that seemed to me to be a decision based on 42 years of experience, not some distortion.
So later this morning I tried out the sharp thing I found in the bathroom – the toilet tanks are plastic “behavioral safety models”, the sink has no taps etc., but there is a zip tie connecting some of the plumbing underneath. Cut connected to zip ties have sharp ends! So I made a bunch of scratches all over the place, because it’s at a bad angle, and then got interrupted.
When my day nurse came in I told her I straight up wanted to cut, that it was really hard to resist the temptation with no willpower. It would make me feel better, bar none.
The only reasons not to are that I could get put in restraints or something (is there a closet for the straitjackets?) take longer to earn passes and privileges, etc.
So could she please like find me some more Ativan, like a lot more, because I take 6 for a Pap smear and this is way worse than that. She came back saying no, but had I tried colouring? like are you fucking kidding me right now. You guys would freak if I cut myself badly enough to need stitches, but when I say very clearly what is going on and ask for help, they have nothing for me.
Anyway, yesterday’s nurse is back and said she’d call the doc for more orders (more drugs, more often) so we will see.
Update: A nurse came to give me some drugs while my regular was on break; I’d soaked through two pillowcases crying. Regular nurse came back and was empathetic as I bawled at her some more. Done crying now.