No, I haven’t got to try harder. No, I haven’t got to engage with you. No, I haven’t got to help myself. No, I don’t want to try mindfulness or distraction techniques. No, I don’t want to try DBT. Just no. Fuck off. Don’t you get it, I DON’T WANT TO. I’m done trying, I’m done being strong, I’m done figuring out ways to cope so that I can continue my tortured existence. I’ve been doing all those things for a hell of a long time and I’m absolutely done.

I think I must be frustrating the staff right now, I am so stubbornly suicidal. But the point is I no longer care what they think of me. Once upon a time I wanted people to like me and approve of me, I wanted to be a ‘good’ patient. It upset me when people said I wasn’t trying hard enough or that I wasn’t taking responsibility, I wanted to demonstrate to them that I was, as though that would somehow prove that I was a worthwhile person. I guess I wanted help and that gave them power over me. Now I don’t give a fuck. I want to die, I’ve made my decision, and that’s the end of it.

And now, after years of having my thoughts, feelings and experiences trivialised and dismissed, they finally, when I don’t want them to any more, take me seriously. Yesterday I was supposed to go home in the morning to pick up my post, check the house and collect some belongings. But the woman who was supposed to be going with my CPN and me couldn’t make it and my CPN wouldn’t take me by herself, not after I’d admitted to her that yes, I still had a plan to kill myself and that in fact I had a plan to do it here in the hospital too (actually I have two plans). She wouldn’t budge, she said her responsibility was to keep me safe, even though I pointed out that I was hardly likely to do anything while she was in the house with me, since that would pretty much guarantee failure. Then in the afternoon I was supposed to go to the pottery room with my occupational therapy aide, and I wasn’t allowed to do that either, because they were concerned about the one blunt knife we use to cut the clay. Quite how they thought I was going to kill myself with it, while supervised, I don’t know. They don’t seem to realise I have thought carefully about this and I am not going to do something stupid, I am not interested in making an attempt that I will easily be saved from. I want to die and no matter how strong the internal and external urging I won’t act until I have the right opportunity, with a high chance of success.

 

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