A Week Without Self-harm

Photo by Hailey Kean on Unsplash

Well, it is now 11 pm on Monday 5th April and it is 7 whole days (give or take a few minutes) since I last self-harmed by cutting myself. Yay for me!

The last time I self-harmed I was actually a patient on a hospital ward following admission due to a Paracetamol overdose and self-harm — taken into the hospital by the police no less (the guys were great and non-judgemental).

This was Sunday 28th March. I had my wounds cleaned up, steri-stripped, and bandaged, had my bloods taken in A&E and hooked up to antidote drip, but nobody asked why I had done these things to myself. I was then taken to the Assessment Ward and put into a bed. Still, nobody had asked, “Why?”

Morning rolled around and I was brusquely told that a Nurse from the Psychiatric Liaison Team (PLT) would be around to speak with me. Still, nobody had asked, “Why?”

Eventually seen by the PLT nurse — he was as much use as a chocolate poker in a bonfire! Didn't really listen to me trying to explain my situation. How I felt abandoned by medical services over my physical health issues, abandoned by mental health services regarding my mental state, abandoned by City Council Social Services. He asked “Why?” but didn't listen to me.