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Scared in my own flat.

As soon as I wake up the voices are talking and warning me about potential harm. It's not like in the films when waking up is dreamy and the sun shining through the window and perfectly dressed with make up. It's also not like the dramatic horror films.

I'm scared to be by the windows, I like trying to hide in the corner, I move my furniture around in a way that the window isn't directly shining on where I could or want to sit. But I know no where is safe, the spyders can reach all the places people can't. They are able to hide better.

I had planned to go to a local church, the voices are saying I will be safe there away from all the people spying on me. But I'm too scared to get there, and there are windows in the church, will I be safe? Is that where God will protect me?

I keep seeing the spyders more, I can see there eyes piercings through my body.

The shadows are drifting past the doors, there's no way I can relax. I'm so anxious because I don't really know what harm I am in.

How can I keep myself safe in my own flat? I can't escape from the voices, but why are the voices warning me about people wanting to harm me but they want me to harm myself and get closer to God/death.

I really don't believe I can die, which makes me push the boundaries of life and death in my own body. It's kinda an experiment. The thought of not being able to die scares me, I don't want to be left here, watching all those I love die around me. I won't cope with that.

I would really appreciate some time to myself, with no voices, no visions, and not being scared.

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I like to blog but forget to look for other blogs? Is it just me.

I enjoy writing blog posts especially as it’s a way to get rid of feelings and to let others know what’s going on. 

But I forget to look for other blogsz I’m sure there are loads out there in similar situations and I want to be able to share experiences and keep up with what life is throwing at you. So I’m going to find new blogs to follow, why don’t you join me… search something that relates to you and follow some new amazing blogs. Xx

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Thank you to my care co-ordinator for helping me feel safe.

I know I think your spying on me but I know this is just because of the devil and government making you. 

I kept telling you I wanted help and to feel safe but kept rejecting everything that you would suggest. And that left you feeling frustrated with me, but I was just to stubborn to say yes and in reality I wasn’t even sure what I want. 

And that lead to me being sectioned, and I’ve been in here a week. And I’ve felt safe at times but mainly I want to thank you, even though I was pushing you away you were there by my side trying to keep me safe. I can see this now. I know your just trying to keep me safe, 

I hope you still want to be my care co-ordinator. Your the best one I’ve ever had. 
You know who you are, Thank you. 💐

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Week one over of being sectioned.

… three more to go. 

Today I have filled in the paper work to appealed my section. 

I’ve been in here a week I got my first walk off the ward escorted, we went to a near by park, was allowed only half an hour. It was good for feel the sun shining on my face and hearing all the “normal” noises I would hear at home. Here the windows are so thick you can’t hear much of the outside. 

I’m now hoping I can have an hour to go home today with my cousin/carer, but no one seems to know what’s going on. It’s frustrating me that I don’t know if I can go or not. 

No one knows the same things, and everyone tells me something different. It’s so frustrating, not knowing what’s going on. 

Spoke to a lady from the advocacy place, and we talked about my consaltant is now off for two weeks, so I’m terrified I will be kept here forever. I need to know when ward round is? Who’s doing it? And when can I leave? Or get off my section. 

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Day 4 of being sectioned.

My first few days started off okay was a few blips, but I felt with it okay. 

On day two at night things came to much it all built up so much with the thoughts going around and around and the voices taking control that I could no longer control it. I harmed and the alarms were pulled, I did it four times, they had to literally drag me away from the wall. I hate myself for that choice. Since I’ve been put back on level 3 which is where you have no privacy and your followed everywhere, always a member of staff with you one to one. 

Yesterday I spoke to my main nurse she was great and had a brilliant idea of when you get worked up go in to the garden and listen to music, shower etc, some good points which I had not thought about. I have no thoughts of harming I just want my medication to be better and then to get out. I want to do a skydive when I get out to make a statement that I want to live my life to the fullest.

I had my first shower last night, it felt amazing. I’m in clean clothes and I’m sat writing this post hoping they will get a doctor so my observations can be re thought about, I would like some privacy. 

I need my medication to be sorted, there’s no point being here if they won’t even put me on the correct medication. I’m hoping by getting an advocate this will really help. My point just doesn’t seem to get listen too. Feeling a bit confused at what the point of me being here is if they don’t up my medication.
I miss my cats.

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Been sectioned.

I’ve been sectioned under section two of the mental health act.

I was going to a routine appointment with my psychiatrist and cpn, then they went out the room and brought mental health act assessments in. And you guessed it I’m now detained under the mental health act. In a mental hospital that I can’t leave, I could be here for 28 days, one day down. 

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Why do I write what the voices say? 

They hate it when I do it but I feel that it gets out what there saying and that I have the information to go back to of what they said so that I can find the clues and answers. 

It helps in some way, maybe it’s like a problem shared is a problem halved? If that makes any sense?

It helps to write it, it also just flows out of me, pouring the words and commands on to the page. Re-reading the words as if I’ve never heard them before when in reality I’ve heard them so many times I can’t remember.