What a difference a day makes
Posted by MrsBee
12th May 2015

I wrote this blog during my last in-patient stay at hospital where I received help and respite for a huge 'down' episode. (I am bipolar)

I sat today on my bed thinking about what a huge difference a day can make. Just twenty-four very little hours.

When I first got here (where I have spent the past week) the nurses office felt like a very scary place to think about, let alone approach. So, what's the alternative? I found myself thinking. Well, there's the nurse call button located next to my bed which I had been invited on arrival to use at any time if I wanted to speak to someone. Why then was the very thought of using it so utterly frightening that it would bring me to tears just thinking about it. The frustration of the whole situation I found myself in was destroying me and I felt like I wanted to die.

How dare they abandon me in my room without caring? I asked myself.

They are hateful people, I'd scream in my head.

I hate it here!

I can't live life like this, I genuinely despaired.

Well here I am, sat on my bed. The same bed I sat on just a few days ago having these thoughts tumble around my head. And do you know something? I haven't been abandoned. People do care. It isn't so bad here. Life is actually pretty good. And best of all, I'll be back home on Friday.

Thank goodness for modern medicine, as without it I think I may still be furious about call buttons and rooms... And thank goodness for my patient family who have put up with one too many screamy / teary moments over the past few months.

Phew, I think I've had my me-ness popped back in, and it feels pretty OK to be me right now

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