Thursday, July 26, 2007

Day 337

I am so confused.

I called the emergency hotline number for the Crisis Team a few hours ago to speak to someone because my head was all over the place – I needed to clear something up. I had said to the Crisis Team yesterday that I had written letters when I made my plan and I didn’t (I had a plan, I did all the preparation, but no letters) so I wrote them today. I forced myself to, to make it real. I also bought a will, until I realised I had nothing to leave. In writing, I realised I don’t want to hurt my family – I just want to hurt myself. So I can’t write any “goodbye” letters because that would be a premeditated crime. What I feel is more immediate, it swoops in, snowballs after a bout of self-harming, or just hits from nowhere – no time to put pen to paper, no time for thinking.

I can’t really remember the week of making the plan and having to talk about something so private is distressing and confusing. It’s hard to keep correcting people when they make mistakes – for example, when asked what my hobbies were/are at my assessment, one of the Charlie’s Angels (the ladies from the Crisis Team look like something off a film set, complete with Angel flicks. They wear black trousers and high heels, but look like they could Karate Kid you in a heartbeat) replied on my behalf saying: “dressmaking”. I don’t do dressmaking, but I didn’t contradict her. Was I just too tired of the people at the Biscuit Centre getting it wrong? Too tired to keep explaining the truth? I had never mentioned dressmaking, no, not once.

I just wanted to scream at them to leave. Well, not scream exactly just ask them politely to leave. I’d had enough of the sympathetic voices and the probing questions about my “Suicidal Ideation”(?). “It’s PRIVATE. GODDAMIT, it’s private”. I suddenly wanted to say, “Hey ladies, I appreciate your coming, but there has been some mistake. I don’t need help, there is nothing wrong with me.” Then we were talking about letters. I am sitting here thinking: “why did I make that part up?” I remember thinking I need to get my affairs in order, to write lists for my Mum so she knew what was what, but no actual goodbye letters. I think I remember thinking about it, one sad morning while sitting on the toilet. But there I was saying I had written letters. So today I forced myself to write letters. I did. And then nothing made sense, so I called the number.

It all came out in a bumbling mess of words and the woman on the end of the phone sounded grumpy so I felt stupid. I stumbled through the following: “I’m confused, I don’t want to hurt my family - I just want to hurt myself. I wrote the letters and it feels wrong. I told the women I wrote letters and I don’t think I did, I think I just said goodbye in my head.” There is no explanation for what I think about and no way to say goodbye. So she said: “So I take it you won’t be seeing the Crisis Team anymore/It’s good you don’t want to kill yourself/Have you got anything to do tonight/Will you be OK ‘till Monday?” She sounded frustrated. “I’m sorry,” I said, “I feel like a fool, I feel like I’ve wasted your time”. “Not at all” came the reply. “Did you just need someone to talk to?” Did she think I was saying I'd made the whole thing up? Because I wasn't, just the letters.

What is going on – what is fact? If I made up the letters, does that mean I’m making all of this up? Maybe I just want attention. The thought of that makes me want to vomit myself inside out. If that is true, am I just sick (in the head)?

The Angels said yesterday that they thought I needed help and that I wasn’t wasting anyone’s time and that they would come and visit me three to four times a week. They tried to make me promise that I wouldn’t kill myself. I kind of snorted/smiled/I don’t know what I did, but I said, “I’ll do my best”. We talked about hospitalisation. They said, "For the quiet ones, like you, it doesn't make much difference and then you are no further forward when you come home". Am I a "quiet one?"

I keep thinking I should be able to snap out of this, to make myself better, but that doesn’t seem to work. Do I just “like” being “sick”?

I said that to my Friday Counsellor once, she told me no one would waste the time and energy on me if there was any doubt something was wrong…Maybe they’re just placating me?

Maybe they all know – everyone is in on it and the jokes on me? I suddenly feel 15 again, saying I was sick when it was probably just stress/confusion. I ended up getting my appendix out then. I didn't have appendicitis. What will happen now?

My worst fear is that I am a liar.

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