-This post features self-harm and colourful language-
I flipped out today at the hospital after group therapy. Towards the end of the day I was feeling panicky but hid it well (or the various benzos in my system did).
It started with setting a goal list for 12 (!) months into the future. I told the facilitators that I couldn’t think even 12 minutes into the future and that all I want is to be a different person but they still made me write a stupid list. I wrote down the usual sort of stuff- to be well, to find happiness, to be off medication etc. I also wrote some more honest points but only read one because everyone laughed at it. I said, ” I want to lose weight.” That’s a reasonable goal, I figured. My group laughed and said if I lost anymore weight no one would be able to see me when I turn on my side. How freaking encouraging. I told them I am unhappy with my body. It’s not their job to judge that. I hated the jokes. I might be “slight” as one lady put it but I feel uncomfortable and wouldn’t mind being as slight as I used to be. As we went around the room, everyone else seemed to be praised for their goals. FUCK GOALS. FUCK GROUP.
No one noticed that I was upset. I hid it well but I could feel my anxiety rising. I wanted to do something stupid. Everyone left and I lingered in the hope of talking to the facilitators, who left too and turned the lights out.
I ran to the bathroom and cried. I felt like shit. I am stressed. We didn’t deal with anything I brought up. Support is slowly drifting away because of bloody Christmas.
I scratched and scratched at my arm until it was raw. Someone else came into the bathroom and asked if I was okay but I didn’t reply. I didn’t mean to be rude, i just didn’t want to explain what was going on. I looked at my arm and decided it was time to get out of there. The problem with private hospitals is that if you do shit like that, they send you on your way… to a public hospital. FUCK NO.
I was crying so much and I didn’t know what to do. One of my friends from a group I did a while ago knew I was around and kept texting me. I told her I was a complete mess and she said we should meet up.
I told her that if she didn’t mind looking at an ugly crying person then it would be good to meet up, I needed some cheering up and I needed a hug.
She asked if I wanted to get something to eat but I told her I couldn’t. Instead I had a sparkling water and we chatted until I stopped crying.
I feel so alone. That felt ridiculous to write considering a friend just saved me from maybe doing something even more stupid than my pathetic scratching. Aside from that she was able to make me smile and feel a bit better.
I feel alone because the people who are meant to help me, don’t understand me. I feel alone because the people who are meant to be in a similar position are obviously doing much better than I am. My skin doesn’t glow and my eyes don’t sparkle. I look tired, pale and sick. I feel alone because I have to pretend to be excited about this time of the year and I hate it. I don’t hate Christmas. I hate all of the social events and the questions.
“What are your plans for next year?” Uhhh, I have no idea. Nothing.
“What did you do this year?” A crappy course, which I hated and some group therapy.
“Any plans for NYE?” I’ll probably sit at home alone and cry about how I don’t want another year.
No, I am not okay, kind lady in the bathroom. You can’t help me though. I am sorry that I ignored you when you were reaching out.