Monday, September 27, 2010

Life's Drama of a Slasher

       Well I couldn't make it another week.  I feel like a failure. I went to True Value and bought a blade. The cashier was some old guy that made a comment of something like "You going to add this blade to your collection?"  I wanted to say you fucking smart ass but I just hung my head in shame and quickly walked out of the store before I saw anyone I new.  It was a bad day.  I didn't go to class.  Instead I went home and cut  my arms and nicked my throat and then called my case manager. I told him I cut and couldn't throw away the blade. He called the cops. They were at my door within fifteen minutes. They wanted me to go to the hospital with them, but I wouldn't go.  They had me call George my case manager and George said I didn't have to go if I gave up the blade. So I laid the blade on the coffee table and the cop picked up with his rubber gloves and held on to it like I had a disease. George asked me if I was going to be safe. I couldn't answer.  Something in me wanted to be up on the unit.  I didn't feel safe in my own skin. I told George this and he said then get a ride from the cops to the hospital.
        At the hospital it seemed like for ever before the clinician got there to talk to me. It was Lee I really don't care for him, but at least this time he listened to me.  He got me on the unit, which was a big mistake on my part. It was about 9pm when I got upstairs on the third floor.  I was ready for bed. I was in room 8 which was right across from the nurses station. The mhu aid Josie got me two blankets and then Holly the nurse came in and talked to me about what was going on. I told her about my day. She asked if I was suicidal and I said if I realy thought about it I could think my way into it.  I have been on the unit a lot like 70 time since 1998. I bang my head when I am on the unit. Holly told me that the Doctor said if I banged my head at all I would be exparted. Fine I went to bed, but Holly first brought me my meds.  She tried to give me Cymbalta and Respirdal instead of my regular meds  she said that's what the doctor ordered.  I was irate.
        Morning came and the nurse tried to give me the same meds and not my diabetic meds. When I met with the phsychiatrist I told her that I didn't want her to change my meds. Antidepressant like Cymbalta make me manic and Respirdal makes me gain weight. Leave my meds alone. She asked me what she can do for me.  I told her I just needed a save place to gather my thoughts.We left it at that. Except later on she wanted me to think of the patterns of why I come into the hospital. I decided that I needed to go home. I had to much to do to sit in the hospital. I asked Mike the nurse if I could go home he said no problem I'll go to bat for you. So before I new it the Doc was talking to me in the hall. She said "I just finished your admissions and you want to go home."
         "Are you suicidal" the doc asks.
         "No" I reply
         "And you don't feel like buying blades or cutting"
         "Not at all"
         "Then your ready to go"she say's with authority.
         "Thanks"  I smile.
          After lunch the Mhu aid brings my belongings. We went through  them and I signed off on the sheet. Before long I left not even saying goodbye. I was escorted out of the hospital by  one of the Mhu aids that I have known for many years. I went to get on the bus. It was  a total waist of two days.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Straight edge blade junky

It hasn't been a week and I relapsed. Last Thursday night I cut and called the on call clinician.  It was my case manager. He called the cops on me to escort me to the hospital were he and I talked. More like I got a lecture when was I going to quit. He wanted to exparte me but the hospital was full and he really didn't want to do the paper work to send me to API. I was just a pain in his ass.  He sent me home with a promise I wouldn't cut and that I would call in the morning. I did what I was told but the urges were still strong. Friday night my friend was concerned about me and wanted to make sure I stayed out of the hospital. She is my codependent friend. She had me stay the night with her and then all day Saturday until the slam.  The Voices of Recovery Poetry Slam went really well and I had a grand time. I tied for third place.Winnining $50.00 . With money in my pocket my urges got stronger.  All I could think about was when I could by blades.  I am sick in the head.  Today is Tuesday and I am still planning.  Rationally I know it is not a good idea.  I have to schedule my day around so I don't go to stores by myself.  I have to give my money to my case manager because I am not safe. It sounds silly. But if I have any money on me I am going to my blades and cut. I am like an out of control alcoholic. I really want to stop this shit. I wrote about it in the following poem that I read at the slam.

Five Years Clean and Sober
I am really not emotionally clean
I have a new addiction to love
I am an emotional wreck,
a suicidal dreamer,
an emergency room junky,
and I have a secret to tell.

I am scared to tell,
because I do it and I am clean.
I feel like a junky
It is real dreamy
I am in love.
My life's wrecked

like a shipwreck.
My scars tell
about this dream.
I am really not spiritually clean.
I am addicted to this love
like a lost junky.

I am a straight edge blade junky.
My body a scarred wreck.
I caress the blade like a lover.
There I told.
I want to be clean
and not be a dreamer.

I don't want to dream,
my life away like a junky.
It is going to take a lot of cleaning
to fix this wreckage.
It will be my past to tell
and only a dream.

I will no longer live this dream.
I will have self love.
This I can tell.
I can give up being a straight edge blade junky
because, my higher power is on my side of this wreckage.
Today, I can be cleansed.

I want a new love and to create a new dream.
I don't want to live a life of a junky and be a wreck.
I am telling you I want to live clean.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Welome to Slasher's Secret Hiding Place

This place is a shelter for those who are alone in the middle of the night and are thinking of harming themselves. I know what it is like when those thoughts don't stop. They just keep going round and round in your head you want to cut, you want to hurt your self in some way even though you know your not supposed to because people tell you that they love you. I know what it is like because I am a cutter and everyday I struggle to stay clean from it. I write, paint, draw, do bead work, exercise, play chess and have a social life. I don't work because it has me so disabled. Maybe together we can stop this shit. We don't have to hurt ourselves we are beautiful people. I have a week clean. We don't have to live the dramas of the er and psyche units.  We can choose to be productive people. Sometimes I don't believe this, but I have to it is my only hope. Life is precious like a child and as a cutter I abuse it and ride on death edge just for the fun of it. It is crazy making. I hope with this site to share with you the positive things  that I am doing in my life that are keeping me in a healthy  frame of mind.

My Daily Maintenance Program
things I have to do everyday
*Sleep 9hrs
*Eat six small meals
*drink 8oz h2o
*Take my meds
*check my blood sugar (  I am diabetic)
*do an hour of art a day
*do an 1/2 hour of exercise a day
*talk to five friends
*go outside for 1/2 hour
*clean house/dishes

Things I need to weekly

*talk to therapists
*clean house
*art group