Last night something bad happened; someone posted an old picture on their Facebook that had something to do with my 'trauma.' It was weird because as upsetting as it was, I couldn't stop looking at the photo! It got to me because when I remember the 'trauma' I don't have flashbacks in the way some of the girls here do; I just remember it. I don't remember details, I've been allowed to forget. And now I can't.
So, today I've spent the day sleeping, getting up for meals and to watch some films and have a shower but mostly sleeping. It was my escape. And it got me through the day. I was dreading Reflection because I knew I'd have to talk about it and I knew I'd only managed for so long because I'd not spoke about it. So, in Reflection I said I'd enjoyed sleeping and hadn't enjoyed something happening last night that's made me have bad dreams and flashbacks. Then I cried. One of the girls hugged me and once the meeting was over I went to my room. The voices were shouting for me not to take meds and they were all screaming for attention but I ignored them and left my room; I knew if I stayed there I'd end up bleeding. One of the staff saw me and told me to go to the clinic, then without speaking he got me an anti-psychotic. I asked what he was doing and he said I needed it and I told him I was being told not to take meds so he held my hand and told me to be brave. So I swallowed the tablet.
My Mum called and I told her all about it and she said it's probably for the best because I'd forgotten that photo existed and she said imagine if I'd gotten discharged and then seen it and it sent me backwards. At least now, seeing it in here, I can be kept safe. If I was in the community I'd have overdosed by now. Now, the meds have kicked in and my head is nice and quiet and peaceful. But I'm left exhausted. You wouldn't think that fighting an hallucination would make you physically tired. But it does. It really does.