It is five months on from my last post. I did, as expected, move a couple of days after the post to a CAMHS (Children and Adolescent Mental Health Service) psychiatric bed. I was admitted into *Heron with my guide dog Noodle early on a Tuesday morning. By lunch time my bags had been searched, half the items removed, and I was sitting staring at the four white walls of my room. The ones I am staring at right now.
Since coming into hospital I have been surrounded with the love of those closest to me. In fact within the first few days of being here I had received so many letters of support that Social Services (Smile Stompers) banned me from receiving mail from all but one or two friends. The days were slow at first but, like water coming to boil, the time hazed into one expanse and fogged up my glasses. Most staff on the unit are amazing people dealing with limited resources, abundances of procedures to follow and (of course) eleven mentally ill teenagers all needing care.
Out of time and out of date- a zombie apocalypse could have happened and I wouldn’t be aware. Five months on the unit is disorientating, I could be anywhere for all I know of the outside. I don’t know anything about the city I am in. But what has happened here? The time has been spent trying to get my see-saw of symptoms somewhat stable. In these walls I have had a shield, every day the staff protect you from the monster inside your head and stop it from hurting you. Because that’s what it comes down to; the person and the illness. In a car you can see who’s driving, in people you can’t.
What have I not received? In the unit there has been very limited therapy. An hour of 1:1 psychological therapy a week tops. In my experience this wasn’t anywhere near enough to combat the 24 hour symptoms of my illness. I haven’t been cured, but I wasn’t expecting that. Well maybe I was a bit. I want to learn to manage my brain, but I haven’t had the specialist help to achieve this as much as I hoped I would. This makes me sad. But Heron has undeniably kept me alive with this terminal mental illness when I don’t think anywhere else would have been able to. I can only thank them for that. These conditions have made me really try to stop living, just stop, because it is too painful. Without being on the ward I don’t think I’d be here to write this.
I am moving to a new unit in the next couple of days, but I plan to schedule some blogs in which I will talk about my experiences in *Heron and my overall findings as a CAMHS inpatient. The posting may not be regular because it is rare to get internet/sim opportunities but trust me- I am still writing and doing my best!
In the meantime I am just a very impatient inpatient fighting to get better.