It was less than 2 weeks after being discharged from The Dungeon that I ended up rehospitalized in the states psychiatric facility. my ‘Hospital in the Home’ nurses took me down to triage and I before I knew it, I ended up being admitted to an open mixed gender ward.
But I was on a path of self destruction, and the staff knew it. i can only remember snapshots of my time on the ward. The nurses caught me in the corner of my bathroom, a pair of leggings wrapped around my throat and my eyes bulging. So my clothes and shoes were confiscated. I was given a tear proof canvas sack to wear and moved to a single observation room with a camera in it. My sheets were made of tear proof canvas as well. I could only use plastic silverware.
Somehow I managed to get hold of a biro, and used the lid to gauge deep gashes into my thighs. Once again I was found out and this time was enough. I was moved to the locked “Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit” next door.
My first thoughts, when I arrived on the new ward were to escape. I had a brief Jurassic Park Moment where I attempted to climb the tall escape proof fence. Escape version 3.0. The nurses didn’t even bother trying to catch me- this fence was truly escape proof. Today was the day I ended up with a forced injection in my bum. I fell asleep, and woke up on ‘special’, where I had my very own nurse follow me around all day and all night.
I have never been so self destrucive. I didn’t care. Weeks later I look at the scars all over my legs and arms and think…why? What was it worth?
Now I carry scars I will hold forever. Scars to remind me where I have been, and where I will never go again.