Last night was a night from hell. Do not read and then write horrible comments, you do not need to read my blog, you chose to.
Last night I became fixated on the idea that I needed to cut open my stomach, I attempted it a few days before hand, caused a nasty wound that required stitches, but was nothing compared to last nights. I cut right though the fat layer to the muscle layer. Now I am a regular visitor to my local small hospital, the big hospital in the city, well known to the ambulance service and also the police. I called for an ambulance and asked if they could send one of the paramedics that could stitch as I really did not want another trip to hospital, I just wanted it stitched at home, job done.
Any ways, suddenly 4 police officers turn up along with an ambulance crew, they took one look at the wound and said I HAD to go to the hospital. I refused and begged them to get the paramedic that could stitch, but they said not even he would even be able to stitch it as it needed internal stitches as well as external stitches. I became very distressed and went into panic mode. The police wanted to take my blade, I wouldn’t tell them where it was so they hand cuffed me, I felt completely over whelmed, I had 2 paramedics and 4 police officers what felt like screaming at me (although they weren’t). In the end I told them where it was, they took me down to the ambulance, one of the police officers said “if we take the cuffs off will you behave” I said yes, but of course in my head all I am thinking is run, you need to get out of here, you need to get away from these people. So I tried to run, very unsuccessfully. So once again I am cuffed, have a police officer in the ambulance with me and get driven the 35 min journey to the city hospital. The whole way there being asked stupid questions.
Once at hospital I was again given the option of as I had behaved in the ambulance I could have the cuffs off if I continued to behave. Once I had been handed over by the paramedics the police also left on the agreement I would stay in my cubicle. From my cubicle all I could see was the way out sign, it was shouting at me, it felt like an instruction, so after staring at it for 20 mins I walked out. Now the only way possible for me to get home is a taxi, but I had no wallet on me. So a very kind taxi driver drove me home to get my wallet, then to the cash point to get the money and then back home. £43 it cost me as it was past 12pm. Any ways, I would have payed a zillion pounds just to get home. I closed the wound very basically with some sterri strips, took my night time meds, got into my PJ’s and went to bed. Next thing I no my door is buzzing over and over again, you have to be buzzed into my block of flats, I ignored it, it was easy to ignore after the 7.5 of zopiclone, the night time dose of quetiapine and the propanalol. Then the next thing they are at my actual front door, someone else has buzzed them in. They shout through that I have 10 seconds to open the door otherwise they will knock it is as they have the ram thing with them to do it. All I am thinking is shit shit shit.
So I open the door, police come in, give me a huge telling off, saying I had been registered as a level 1 missing person which meant even the police inspector is involved. I tried to tell them I will go and get it sorted in the morning and there is no point at half 2, that a few hours wont hurt, but they were refusing to listen to anything I was saying. I new they couldn’t section 136 me as I was not in a public place, but I heard one off the police officers talking on her radio asking what they can bring me in under, they were about to bring me in under the fact that I didn’t have the mental capacity to make rational decisions.
So once again I am back in the ambulance, off to hospital, police escort. After about 20 mins at the hospital the police left and hospital security took over. I got my stitches, they wanted me to have a mental health assessment, but I have had about 500 million of those and could answer the questions in my sleep, so made a promise with the doctor that I would phone my CPN as soon as they opened at 9am. Then I had to get home, no way another taxi, so had to catch a bus from the hospital to the train station, then a train back to my town, then walk home. I got home just before 9 am. Now I kept my promise and phoned my CPN, then took my morning meds and have slept most of the day away.
I feel extremely guilty for wasting so much of the police and ambulance peoples time. They had so many police officers out looking for me. But I panicked and the only thing I could think was run, run as fast as you can away from the situation.
My mental state is deteriorating rapidly, my self harm is horrendous, I am losing the ability to rationalise things, I had a hole in my stomach where you could see the muscle and I was just so casual and was saying I will sort it in the morning, like it was a scratch. The CMHT had a meeting this afternoon in which I was to be discussed, they are coming to see me at 11:30am tomorrow. I just don’t no what to do any more, I am truly lost.