Friday, 16 January 2015

The Nut House

I guess I've skipped a few posts. This one seems important to note though; for I am now in the loony bin. Here is a brief introduction to said bin:

Not technically the insane asylum you might be imagining, but a mother and baby unit attached to a hospital. They've tried really hard to make it homely, but we're still psychiatric in-patients and There Must Be Rules.

Only 8 beds to serve the entire state and an awesome staff:patient ratio. I arrived on Wednesday, today is Friday and I'm starting to get the hang of it. Each day I've had my own nurse and I've seen the doctor and the phsychiatrist. There are mother craft nurses too - hopefully by the time I leave here I'll be able to settle the baby by myself without collapsing Ina heap of Failure Tears. Fucking Failure Tears. They ruin things.

I have my own room with en suite and a double bed - lovers (they call them husbands or partners, I prefer lovers) can stay over at weekends. At the moment I can only go out with staff or a family member, and at the moment that suits me fine. I'm checked on every half hour when I'm alone and every 15 minutes when I'm with baby. All that means is that my nurse for the day has to see me and see that I'm ok. It's not intrusive really, and with the drugs they've given me the past two nights I've only heard the nurse come in to do overnight checks a couple of times, and given that she's doing it every half hour that's not too bad. I think it's to make sure I haven't hurt myself and I definitely do feel safer here in that respect. 

Another thing I feel is banished. I know it was ultimately my decision to come here, and if I'm honest with myself it was/is the right thing to do. But still I feel banished. Other feeling things (good practice for group therapy I suppose): lonely, frightenened, angry, claustrophobic, lonely, frightened, and lastly, lonely and frightened. Oh, and banished.

The food sucks but the drugs are lovely. According to my husband I was humming when he left me last night. Humming.

I've just said bye to my mum - she's been here for a couple of weeks and flies back to the UK this afternoon. I hate saying goodbye. It sucked when babyF was a week old and it sucks now that she's 15 weeks old. I feel so alone, And even though I've spent most of my life feeling alone, I feel particularly alone whenever mum leaves me or I leave her. Which is often given that we've rarely lived on the same continent since I left home. And it's strange because we're not particularly emotionally close; she's an emotional retard (I married my mother in that respect), and I'm not very good at being honest with her. But we're getting better, and I know she would come as readily across the world as she would the Severn Bridge day or night if I asked her. Most people can't say that for sure.

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