Hard Day

It all started with me taking the children to school. The small one wanted to show everyone the bandage on my wrist - he kept pulling my sleeve up. I was mortified. It strikes me as odd the folks who say that self harm is attention seeking, as those who do it go to such extreme lengths to hide it. I have woven a story involving a broken plate and clumsy catching - it's so convincing I almost believe it myself. I then had to go back to A & E to get myself checked out.

I sat in the car for 20 minutes trying to psych myself up to go in. I eventually crept in and took my place in the queue. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a kind voice asking if I was ok. It was my Mental Health Social Worker. Often these people get a bad press, but I think this is often unfair. She has been off sick since October, so I have had to see random other people in the interim. I'm not keen on new people - I tend to withdraw and clam up, not ideal when you are supposed to be talking. She was so kind this morning, taking the time to talk to me and reassure me. But still I feel guilty about using up professionals time. After my wrist had been checked the nurse marched me off to the Mental Health Department, as she was not happy that I was still refusing to see the plastic surgery team. All of a sudden my MH SW appeared. She is still off sick, but again took the time to talk to me. She is back to work tomorrow and has already booked me in to see her. I feel terrible taking up her time when she is on a phased return.

I feel so very sad about the way I feel. Lost almost, joyless.