Oh Lawwd, have I lot to write about right now. You know when you're so far into a tunnel that you're just digging your way further in? That was me, up until Friday morning. You know that moment when you realise the light at the end of it probably isn't a train? That's me in my brand new state. Where did that come from? Hope. Not a woman named Hope and not, I dunno, religion or something, but actual hope in the future- in having a future at all- and in my ability to make my ambitions into my autobiography.
So what changed? I feel like I've gone from begging and pleading people to recognise that I'm not the person I was two years ago- the victim of circumstance, existing only at the time that somebody needed something to abuse. The person who drank to the point of major psychosis and emergency psych admissions. The person who over-compensated for her lack of self-respect and confidence by coming over so brash that she alienated everybody around her so as to avoid being hurt. I'm just, I don't know, brand new and ancient- I've gone from begging for acknowledgement to feeling like I've been given it and the release is amazing.
I had a big meeting on Friday. My psychiatrist, doctor, hospital social worker, community social worker, nurse, occupational therapist, ward manager, mum and I. BIG. When you're sectioned, you're meant to have these every 6 months, but mine was supposed to be in June, when I was in the general hospital with the feeding tube and had only just been re-scheduled. Obviously, a lot has happened in the 10 months since my last big meeting, so I was shitting it. Almost literally, swear down. Somehow, though, everything I needed the staff to say, was said.
In short; I'm doing well. I'm on the road to discharge. I WILL BE OUT OF HOSPITAL EARLY NEXT YEAR. It's been literally years that I've been in, and so a couple of months longer is actually nothing. I am reeeeally bloody thrilled (that's me being typically British and understating. Maybe the first thing I have ever understated. Progress, baby!). I keep having to go to my room to squeal. It's so hard not to just type everything in capitals. CAPITALS. With extra letters. Extraaaaa letters.
Shit's coming up Condron :).