Closed doors

On a closed ward of a psychiatric hospital, you encounter many doors closed – quite logical indeed. However, by my actions, I’ve also closed some doors lately, and now I really regret this, but I’m afraid that this regret comes much too late.

You know, I’ve been here for more than four weeks now, and it just doesn’t work out. Every day up till now has been a struggle – literally and figuratively. I know and admit that I’m not an easy person to deal with and that I sometimes show aberrant behaviour, but I’m a damaged girl, damaged by Mr. Psychiatry itself. I want a change of meds, they want to put me back on the level that made me so drowsy and groggy all day. I don’t want to go back there! They want Cisordinol, I want Haldol because the additional effects are less bad. And this is only one of the many daily struggles…

What’s even worse is that I’ve been in the isolation cell for I can’t remember how many times – I lost count, it’s just hopeless – and that because of that, they’re making the rules even more strict: before, when I got in there, it was for one or two hours, but now, if end up in there, it’s until the next morning. That seems more like punishment to me, punishment like they did in Belgium. I gotta get out of this place real soon! They think it’s just impossible to make arrangements with me. Well, gotta tell you that, most of the times when you make arrangements with me, it are the voices who urge me to do the opposite, and especially the addition of Sinaeus, a third and very powerful voice, has almost been lethal a few times, in the sense that Sinaeus kills my own will, my own acts, my own thoughts.

Because of my behaviour here at the ward, I’ve been punished several times. You must actually admit that attacking a doctor is behaviour that just can’t be tolerated. They drag me to the isolation cell, they take my clothes off, they lock me up. Now they have made it even more strict, and really, this is pure and utter punishment for me. The nurses say they’ve had it, but I have no control whatsoever over the voices when they are screaming in my head and commanding me to attack this or the other person. I really, really want to commit myself to eradicating them, but without enough meds, I’ll never get there.

Closed doors. That’s what I’m talking about. My behaviour closes doors to other people as well, especially the nurses. Some of them are extremely upset, and my apologies don’t work. It’s time I began to behave better, but it’s so awfully difficult when there are three of them screaming in your head that you have to try to escape or that you have to attack a nurse. They try to outsmart the nurses. Or is it me trying to outsmart the nurses? Or all four of us? Because one thing is sure, I want to get away from here as badly as the voices. Only we have different motives. I just want to go home, to Timo, and try to live a normal life. The voices want me to jump of the thirteenth floor of a parking garage.

My impossible behaviour has brought me nothing but trouble. Isolation, punishment and now even an RM (Rechterlijke Machtiging), which means that they’ll keep me here even longer than the prescribed three weeks. Eventually, they’ll have the right to inject me the meds I don’t want. I hope it’s not going to get that far, but I was baffled when yesterday the psychiatrist told me that they were opting for an RM. What’s more, yesterday was the first day in weeks that I could be outside – with a nurse, that is. I can’t remember exactly what happened, but we were walking to the train station, I see a train leaving and think “Hey, I could be under that train”, and the next moment I’m on the ground in the park with 5 men upon me. The police dragged me back to the clinic, and I felt really sorry for myself, but also for the nurse, because I value him much, he’s one of the good guys who really cares. So I went into the isolation cell for the umptieth time only to come out at 10 o’clock this morning. I hope I didn’t completely close the door with that specific nurse, ‘cause I like him and I think he really takes good care of me.

Talking about closing doors with people, in the past, I also closed doors to other people: friends, teachers, people who really wanted to help but who just couldn’t because I felt ashamed of myself and I just locked myself up or because my behaviour was so messed-up. I do miss some teachers from secondary school, just called one of them during the weekend. It was quite an emotional conversation. I’m rereading my diaries at the moment, to find some indications where it went all wrong. However, I haven’t found the clues yet, and it’s kind of hard to reread all that’s happened to me. Sometimes, it’s even too much, and I feel the pain deep inside my heart. Why? That’s the question that remains and keeps coming back…

Sometimes it’s good to close a door in your life, however. I really really wished I could close this door, the door of psychiatry… but I’m afraid it will still take a little while before I can do that…