Thursday, February 05, 2009

What goes on inside that head of yours?

Did your Mother ever say that to you? I remember mine saying it to me... so often, even before she found out about the self-harming. Every time my siblings and I got into a fight, which - of course- was my doing as I was the oldest. Every time she said I had put on weight. Every time she thought I wasn't concentrating on school or college as much as I should be.

The last time though? That was the time which cut right through me.

I had been taken to hospital by my GP after an overdose. I was taken to the children's ward - even though I was 17. My Mum and my youngest sister followed in the car, they stopped at the shop downstairs to get me a toothbrush and some toothpaste then came up to the ward. They waited outside whilst my stomach was pumped and I was hooked up to monitors and IVs.

I hope to God that my sister didn't see any of it. I didn't want her to come into the room but Mum said that it would make me guilty for what I had done. It did. Everyday I wonder whether E (my sister) had seen them working on me. I pray that she didn't.

Then they both came in with a consultant and a psychiatrist and a nurse. They gave me my homework journal from my bag and a red felt tip pen. They told me to write about my day, in detail. Then once I had done that they all left the room, my Mum only stopping to leave me a pile of 20p pieces for the phone.

I called her later, after my Dad had visited. His visit was short and he didn't look at me or talk to me. He got out his phone as his boss called... just to talk to me. To see if I was okay. MickMac from Romford... you got me through that night. I haven't spoken to him since.

In the morning the psychiatrist spoke to me, and then at lunch to my Dad who had just arrived. He said my Mum was too hurt to see me. Between them they arranged to let me home that afternoon.

I snuck into the bathroom to call my friend E from my mobile. I had done it last night too, to ask her to tell everyone at school I had tonsilitis and to speak to someone.

I got out of the nurses scrubs I had been given as pyjamas. Got back into my college clothes and got my bag. Dad drove me to a pub for dinner, and then home.

When I got home my Mum was there, having taken the day off work... because of me. She ran me a bath. I asked if she'd call my friend A to excuse me from my Young Enterprise final that evening at Specsavers... she said no, that I would go as normal and be back in college the next day.

So I went. I gave my speech, I got a lift home with A and I went to bed.

Then, as my Mum came in to turn the light out she thought I was asleep... she leant over to pull my sleeves back, to see my scars. I let her think I was asleep. She corrected my sleeves and whispered "What goes on inside that head of yours?"... then she went to bed. I heard her crying for at least an hour.

Why did I post this? I've never documented it before. Never let myself diarise any of my attempts.

But now, on the day I don't want it to happen ever again I am going to get it out. Catharsis, as they say.

Inside my head? Anything could be going on.

PS I spoke to an old friend from Primary School the other day and found she has just been told she suffers from a similar thing to me. I hope I can help her... now that our lives have brought us full circle.


Awareness said...

wow....holy shit Niki....that was too quick of a day you're in the hospital having your stomach pumped and then back in your school uniform and off you go. How did you feel about that? Were you involved in any outpatient counselling services right away?

I'm sitting here as a Mom wondering how I would be in such a situation....what would I say or do if my daughter was in your shoes, and i know part of me would be wondering what had happened to her and what going on inside her thoughts that hurt so much that she'd want to hurt herself even a way to deaden the internal pain. Whether I'd wonder it aloud as your Mom did or I'd try to keep it inside me, I don't know.
Niki, you are doing the best you can every single day. What you have shared here is very very important because it is one of the big scars inside that is tied to a bunch of guilt that is stopping yourself from forgiving yourself maybe? I hope you keep writing it out because I truly believe that the more we reflect on stuff like this and put it to words, the more chances we have to letting it go and allowing the scars to mend.

some words for your new list collage....


Nikita said...

I thought so too but since I was in a children's ward they needed the beds... for children who 'weren't sick by choice'
I didn't get any outpatient treatment after that psych assessment because I was already a service user... so I waited until the next week and went to Dr H instead.

I am Dana, I am trying. There are a lot of people who I used to go to school with or even in my own family who don't think I am. Sadly, depression and attempted suicide are still seen as some sort of 'lazy person's pursuit'.

I will keep writing. Because I need to... as I read the other day "I write for the same reason I breathe... if I didn't I would die"

It is a big scar, one of the worst I have done. And even though I'm sharing it... I don't think I'll ever forgive myself.

Thank you, eternally. x

Anonymous said...

glad you are alive and making an effort. My mom asks me that all the time, about what goes on inside my head. Usually just makes me want to lash out and hurt someone.

Nikita said...

Thanks meena, and welcome. X

Thomas said...

You're lucky you don't live in the USA. They'd keep you for 2 weeks or more. Still an overnight stay sounds pretty short, don't you think?

Nikita said...

You're right of course Thomas, I escaped nearly unscathed. I did tell them it was all an accident brought on by exam stress mind... you'd think they'd of seen round that.
Glad they didn't though, those inpatient places make you worse not better.