Friday, August 29, 2014

Back to hell


A few months ago, I felt the beast, the silent killer which I talked about in an earlier post. However, I never thought it would end this way, as in, I would end up this way, back in hell. Yes people, I’m admitted to the high care unit of the psychiatric clinic again, the one I resided in during fifteen weeks last year. And again they are doing the same things to me: locking me up, robbing me from my freedom and my integrity, humiliating me. Of course, they also take care of me, but that’s not the point. The point is that I want to be dead. And they won’t let me go. What’s even worse, as I wrote in an earlier post, the sword of Damocles is approaching me even more day by day. My psychiatrist approached the CIB (Centre of Intensive Treatment) and they have planned to visit me on the eighth of September. I don’t want to go there. I’ve been traumatised enough in my life, if you ask me. Hell no, I’m not going there!




You see, I understand that people want to protect me against my own destructive thoughts. However, it’s my freaking life, so why do they stop me? Also, the separations are devastating me. I know that my behaviour was far from acceptable. I hit a nurse and kicked him. But it’s not me, really, it are the demons inside of me. Those demons are seizing control over my body. There’s nothing I can do. So now I can get out of the cell for about one hour, and then I have to go back in that sh*thole and wait until the nurses come back for me. It hurts and it’s destroying my already fragile heart. I’ve been in the isolation cell since last Monday. That makes 5 days already. Too long, if you ask me, but I still have a way to go. And what will happen once I can walk freely on the closed ward? That door will trick me again, I know for sure. Well, of course it’s not that door, but the stupid voices and the demons inside of me.




I’d expected something completely different from my psychiatrist. I've known the guy as a calm and intelligent man, one who always thinks things over before taking action. But what he has done so far, has troubled my mind about him. I don’t know what to think of him any longer. I’m disappointed in the guy. He has reinstalled the separation policy I told you guys about earlier (that is, last year), which means that I’ve been in the isolation cell since Monday – now is Friday afternoon – with only small periods of time that I can be out of the cell. It’s horrible, I can tell you that. When they give me my extra meds, then I’m mostly calm. Without the meds, the voices can’t be handled. In my head it’s one heap of sh*t. They laugh, talk, yell… It’s like my head is not my propriety anymore.




The demons are also constantly nagging about the fact that I should attack the nurses. It never stops. Never ever. The images are richly detailed and very sharp. Sometimes I see what I have to do in slow motion, other times just at a normal rate. When I saw my psychiatrist again I talked about a subject the voices want me to avoid: the medication. Maybe it’s time we did something about it. I have some ideas, but my psychiatrist didn't gladly follow my ideas. Anyhow, this just has to stop. Not only for myself, but also for the people around me. I just heard from someone from our astronomy club that she had been crying and someone else hadn’t slept during the first night they knew about it. You see, I make people unhappy, but I don’t want to. I want to relocate myself on the map, if you know what I mean. 


The question is: Will this place save me like it did the last time? However, back then I needed a bloody 15 weeks! Now this will not be the case. They will send me to the CIB before that. And that, I can't handle. No CIB for me, thanks! 


I had an appointment with my psychiatrist. I hoped he would somehow be reasonable and that he would let me out of the isolation cell. I'm so freaking tired of it, especially because I always have to change clothes. Every time I get in, I have to wear special clothes for the isolation cell, and when I get out, I can wear my own clothes. It's a nasty thing, an isolation programme. But what the hell can we do about it? In any case, he didn't change anything about the programme...


I just had a visit from the court, judge included. They confirmed that I'll be here for at least the next three weeks. I'm quite pissed off, although my lawyer had prepared me that this would be the outcome. There was nothing else to do. Also my psychiatrist was very convincing in his sermon. There is a slight possibility that it'll be less than three weeks, but then my condition has to get better real soon. 

Anyway, life sucks, once again. Once again, I'm back in hell, the place no one wants to be. I feel so lonely because I'm not allowed to have visitors, not since Monday and today is Friday. I'm just desperate. I've been mulling things over in my head, but there's no way out. I think the word I use most during the day is "help", because this is an unequal fight: the demons against me.  




2 comments:

  1. Love you Debbie. Be very strong!, you are not alone in this war. Love you love you.

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  2. Wat naar nu weer! Volhouden en hopelijk mag er weer bezoek komen, dan meld ik me ook weer.

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