Thursday- took an overdose (from what I remember there was no suicidal ideation, it was more just to try and get some sleep over the shouting of my voices), then FORGOT and called the crisis team because- well, who knows. Somehow ended up in an ambulance then remembered a bit later I'd taken an OD. Not sure what happened next, but that's the night I came to psych.
Friday- self harmed quite badly, um, vaguely remember screaming at a member of staff because I overheard her saying it was attention seeking, I'm not really sure what actually happened after that and what I just THINK happened.
Saturday- did a runner and sat on the side of the road, smashing my head in. I then remembered that there's a police station kind of nearby and so ran there and told them that I was going to be raped. Somehow I ended up back here, but from what I remember, for once in my life the police were lovely, so there's that at least.
Sunday- could see a man in my room and refused to go in. The staff were mostly good 'uns and stayed with me literally for hours because I was so scared. Then I was fainting and my obs dropped and then I went to bed in the early hours and they stayed with me through the night, I think, and, um? How can it be last night only and I barely remember it?
Today I'm just disappointed. In myself, in the fact that I was only out for 4 months before I was back in, for everything. To be fair, this is just a medication change and was always going to have to happen, but it's still pretty cack. And I have to keep reminding myself that once my meds are back on track I'll be out and then getting back on with everything and that it's not like before when I was in years. As ever, I'll be ok. But I really am scared for tonight. I can't take it much longer. Come on new meds. YOU HAD ONE JOB.