The Run-Up To An OD

Today is October 8th and I now have ten paracetamol hidden in the lining of one of my coats. I’ve decided to begin keeping a record of my thoughts so that if I do it, I can prove how hard it was and why it happened.

So, sometimes I’m not sure why I’m doing this; I can’t decide if I want to die… It’s as though I do and then sometimes I’ll just make plans for the future or get excited for something in the future and I have to check myself. Every time I ‘slip up’ I ask myself “is what I was talking about, a reason not to do it?” and the answer is always ‘no.’ But then I wonder if I was properly suicidal… Why would I still speak about the future?

I think a big reason I’m doing this is because recently I’ve had so little control over people’s views and comments made about me. I’m not sure if I’ve even decided whether I’ll overdose or not… I think that every time I get two tablets back to my room it’s like a little bit of control is back in my hands. Maybe I’m doing this to prove I can. To feel like I’m winning this game. Because that’s how I see it, sometimes. As a game. I guess I do say often enough about the ‘teams’ and that no one is on mine. Well, no one other than Albert, Annie, Harry, Henry and Allie. It’s us against you all and every time I do something to cause myself harm I feel like I’ve scored a point. The ultimate win would be suicide then.
Another factor in my decision and the ongoing mental debate is just how bad my head actually is at the minute. It’s not a nice place to be and I feel as though I can’t tell anyone because I’m now on such a high dose of my anti-psychotic and I’m worried if I tell people they’re still loud, I’m hearing more things, I’m having strange thoughts planted in my brain they’ll question why when I’m on medication. Or they’ll increase the medication. Some of the strange thoughts I’m having are that this isn’t really my life. This is just some sort of game and that I’m on a sort of Big Brother style show where people are deciding what happens to me so they can watch me fall apart and laugh. And when I kill myself, the show is over. I sometimes think that to get into my proper life I have to die.

I’m feeling fairly hopeless at the minute too; even the anti-depressant doesn’t seem to make a massive difference. And every time I think I’m making progress I take about three steps back. It’s ironic really, that while I’m storing tablets I can also think of myself as making progress.

Please say she’ll break, please say she’ll change – The Vamps, Can We Dance

It’s the 10th today and I now have twenty two tablets stored up. Yesterday, I had to pause and think things through because when I got two in the morning, my Key Nurse called me back to ask if I’d took them so I realised I had to be careful for taking any when she does meds. Part of me thought I should try and get more off her with a bit of hope that she’d catch me and put a stop to the plan… But in the end, I remembered how much happier I am knowing that I have some power now so I only got four yesterday.

Today, I had a really good 1:1 with the Psychologist and to be honest, it has made me reconsider my decision. She told me how well I was doing and how proud she was that I’d taken on board what’s been said about my attitude and that she was getting good reports from staff about me. It made me unsure that I’ve made the right decision about overdosing; it’s going to disappoint everyone all over again. I even went and bragged to my Key Nurse and my Mum about the 1:1 and found myself talking about my future with my Mum. But even after all of that… I still went and got two more paracetamol to hide. And I still carried on thinking of all the bases I need to cover for this overdose to go off successfully. It’s like the old days when once I’d made the decision to OD I didn’t ever back out. I couldn’t. Even if things got better or something went well… It’s like in some screwed-up way, I’d feel like a failure for backing out.

One thing that’s changed is that I now dread 1:1s with the Psychologist, the Doctor and my Key Nurse because all I want to do is tell them how crap I feel and that it’s so bad that I’m contemplating an overdose. But then I remind myself that they’ll take the tablets off me and if things get worse, I can’t do a damn thing about it.

At the moment, I’m also liking the idea that they’re all saying how well I’m doing, I’m going on overnight Home Leave this weekend and yet I’m hoarding tablets… I think it might be the ultimate proof that no matter how well they think I am, no matter how close they think I am to discharge; I’m not and I won’t be. It might be the thing that makes them all give up… And part of me thinks that’s the reason I’m still debating doing it.

Today is the 11th and I’m excited for going home this weekend! I had a rough 1:1 with the DBT Facilitator. I felt so let-down and crap… My brain was so confused that I was physically tired. But I showed the ultimate control when I went back to my room and didn’t go straight for the tablets. I proved how well I can control my overdoses and that though they appear to others to be the ultimate loss of control… It’s actually, the exact opposite. I don’t know if that’s worse though; if the fact they aren’t impulsive is worse than if they were… I guess, if it were impulsive then I wouldn’t put much thought into it or be able to stop them. Whereas, when I have the control I do… Well, I guess people looking in would say that if I’m choosing to overdose I can also choose not to. But maybe I’m not in control of the fact I’m going to overdose… No, because I don’t often feel like I have any choice in whether I do it or not. But I can control when it is, how it’s done… So, impulsively swallowing the twenty eight pills I have would be a loss of control. Again.

The one bad thing about going home for the weekend, is that I won’t be able to store any more until Sunday night!

Shit! I think the Doctor is onto me! She came in my room earlier and I basically told her I’ll be killing myself soon. And then I just went for meds and she’s wrote ‘liquid only’ on my chart next to paracetamol. . . Hopefully, people will just give me it without realising… Fuck. Now my mind’s racing with what I could do if they refuse to give me the pills now…  I could tell them I don’t like the orange one and that it’s just while they’re using that… Or I could tell the Doctor that I found out the pills are smaller than I thought and that I can manage them so she can take off the note on the chart… Or I could just ask the shitty staff when they’re doing meds; the staff who won’t notice or care… I haven’t got nearly enough to overdose on what I have… I need more!

Today is the 13th and I just got back from my weekend at home. I can’t decide how I feel. When I first got home all I could think was how I felt like a visitor and I worried that even if I got better here, I wouldn’t feel like I belonged in the community. It convinced me I really do need to take this OD and then I was feeling bad because I knew that I had to spend these two days without being able to save up any pills. I also was wishing I’d started saving them up sooner so that I could’ve overdosed on the home leave because I was triggered so badly with the High School year book and I thought at least if I did it then people would completely understand. But, not only did I not take the tablets, there wasn’t enough anyway so I totally played down how triggered I was and barely even mentioned it when my Key Nurse checked in on me. When really, all I wanted to do was break down in tears and hurt myself. A lot. But I did protect myself by taking my Zopiclone so that I was protected from nightmares. And even when I started properly settling in and enjoying the leave I was still thinking of the overdose and even found a sim card for when I do my running away plan and I found a sharp that I brought back. Then, once I’d unpacked it became my priority to get some paracetamol to add to the store. Although, I’ve started properly thinking about when I’m going to do it… I thought the sooner the better so that I could have leave back for Christmas but then I thought I should do it once I know if I’ve got the job at River Island because I’d hate to OD and lose the leave to get the job… People underestimate just how difficult this process is… Although, in the community it wasn’t like this.
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