I did not cut today but here's what I drew out to do to myself.I gave a friend permission to call a friend of hers who is a therapist or the police if she ever felt I was in danger. That was hours before this happened.
I was at her house having another fight with an anxiety attack. She drove me home. I tried to go to sleep. Yeah, like that's gonna all of a sudden work.
Got up and planned on doing more cutting, adding to the existing artwork on my body. Pulled up the file from the other day. Using the paint feature, I added the red lines to the already existing ones, trying to get a feel of what to do next.
Then I heard loud pounding. Thought it was the cats racing up and down the cat tree. But then someone was turning the door knob and bright lights were shining into my house. Great, the police were here. She had called them to see how I was doing. My other friend was here, too.
The police talked to me for quite a bit. I showed them the cutting I'd done the week before, my therapist I see twice weekly and the appt I have on Tuesday with my psychiatrist who is already going to change my meds. I explained what happened last Thursday with the double seizures and PTSD/panic attacks. I didn't mention anything about the drawings nor about anything else that could compromise my control in the situation.
1. Good thing I didn't cut.
2. They agreed my anxiety couldn't be handled by the ER.
3. They suggested I stay with my friend.
After much discussion about the hospital, I put on my shoes, grabbed my clothes and spent the night at her house.
I didn't cut, I didn't get committed for the up-teenth time and now it's only three days until my meds get adjusted.
I feel I've lost a friend, I'm grieving that loss but I'm trying to move on. In the meantime, I have to do what I can to cope. And for some reason, chocolate isn't working, drinking isn't working but cutting is working. It's getting the pain out.
