And I was right…

I ended up back in the hospital.

On April 4th, I got admitted again.

Technically, I should have gone in much sooner than that, but I wanted to wait until payday so that I could bring cigarettes with me and get some sketching paper and pencils that I would be allowed to have as well. No metal and no hardback books makes things difficult. I pushed myself pretty hard, just to make it the few extra days, and I did make it, but the self injury got worse over that time.

Being in the hospital wasn’t awful, but finding the right medications seemed to take awhile. I hope what they have me on will work longterm. However, I am already getting more depressed. I’ve been isolating, not hanging out with friends, just staying in the house and sleeping a lot.

The day I got home from the hospital, though, I had a moment of wanting to throw away my razors. I did. I don’t have any razors at this point. I’ve been known to self harm in other ways, but cutting has always been my preferred method. Oddly, I’m only having fleeting urges to self harm and am able to easily brush them off.

I have an assessment for an intensive outpatient DBT on Tuesday. Hopefully, things will work out and I won’t need to go back to the hospital.

Here’s hoping…

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