Monday’s, weight gain, period pain and psychologist appointments are potentially the worst combination ever.
I’ve put on a lot of weight since the day I was admitted to hospital. My clothes are not fighting me properly and the mental torture of this is unbelievable. The worst part is realising that my heart damage caused by the suicide attempt means I may never be able to return to crossfit or reach the same level of fitness I previously had. It’s heartbreaking. Fitness was my life.
I don't really know what words to write..but I want you to know that I'm praying for you & I love you & I'm thinking of you. "fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God;I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Isaiah 41:10. much love beautiful x x x
Rachel, I know you as a person, not in your entirety but certainly more than a lot of people. I can sit here and say that you are strong and everything like that but it wil never be enough. You need to understand that not being ok its ok in itself, crying over what seems trivial is ok too. So take it one day at a time and if thats too hard an hour at a time, a minute or even a second. This journey your on will not be easy but I will forever be in awe of how far you have come already Just breathe
Thank you dear friend
Each morning lately I’ve been woken before daylight by a doctor requiring blood tests. I have no choice but to cooperate. My bags have been searched, things such as chargers and tweezers confiscated. My chest is heavy with the weight of this depression, I just need everything to stop, but of course that’s the reason I’m trapped in a psychiatric ward. I’ve been suffering flashbacks in full colour. I feel my heart rate quicken, the intense throbbing in my head. Hot flushes rush through my body and my throat catches as I feel the handfuls of pills forced down with luke warm water. It takes all my effort to stay in the present. I’m specialed, which means 24hr observation. I’m okay. I’m okay. If I repeat it enough I may start to believe it.
I’ve been debating for some time whether or not to make a post about this but I feel like I need to be honest somewhere. Two days ago I took 100 panadol and almost ended my life. It was the most painful experience, physically and emotionally. My liver is damaged my heartrate is still twice what it should be and I’ve never felt more alone. Time passes with no real measure, days feel like weeks. I’ve tried to explain, to make sense of things, but it all feels so empty and I don’t know what order to put things. Or where to begin, in fact I think I’m too scared to begin for fear of where I may end. If you could spare a moment to send me a kind word or prayer, I need all the help I can get.
Room with a view
It’s been almost three weeks. In this time I have cried my way though almost two boxes of tissues, surrendered control of my life to the hands of strangers, been denied the right to shave my legs or leave the ward and been forced to shower with the door open.
I feel like a paper-hearted girl. I’m under 24hour observation. The smallest of things cause me to break. My short term memory is failing from the many medications, but despite the trials I have been shown such unconditional love and kindness, I’m beginning to learn that I am not alone.
Hey I don't really have the money to post you anything write now but I'd just like to say something. You are amazing and strong just for even accepting you need recovery let alone staying in hospital. I'm so proud of you for making it through each day and I know others are too. You probably don't here this enough but you are beautiful and I hope that you're doing okay. Stay strong lovely xx