Title

So I guess I should tell you where the title of this blog comes from and what it means ahem, as if it isn’t already obvious ha. It was credit to my fabulous mumma and sister as well! We were brain storming over a cuppa in the kitchen (well a hot choccie for me) and came up with all sorts of wacky and wonderful creations. It was quite fun actually! My Marbles Matter is a play on the phrase ‘you’re losing your marbles’ meaning basically ‘losing it mentally.. very uncouth. And the rest is history as they say!

I moved back to the acute ward yesterday afternoon (hallelujah) and it’s much better here, there’s a lot more to do and more people to talk to. I feel really bad for going to PICU though, I hope I didn’t behave horribly, rudely or hurt anybody whilst on the acute ward before! I’m not happy though and won’t be until I get discharged or at least know what’s going to happen to me; as a chronic worrier and over thinker what’s happening is immensely important, especially when your stuck in a psychiatric hospital 24/7! If I really think about it, like really try, then I can see that what happens doesn’t matter right now but it’s hard to always have this perspective!

Had a good chat with the doctor this morning, he’s really nice and easy to talk to which is a rarity some would say. He’s going to have a look at my meds about my side effects and sleeping (I use to be such a snore head and now I can’t seem to drift off). And he said there’s going to be a meeting involving everyone to discuss everything! So all in all a positive few days!

New month, new me..

New month, new me and all that jazz! Who am I kidding? Well it is April Fools. But on a more serious note I am going to make a conscious effort to change, we’ll just have to see how long it lasts..

Things are going pretty well for me at the moment and considering I’m still on PICU that’s saying something; I found out on Tuesday that I will not be going to locked rehab (praise the Lord) and on Wednesday that I’m delayed discharge back to an acute ward which just means I’m waiting for a bed, typical it’s a four day weekend isn’t it and that there’ll be no discharges!

Locked rehab was a Scary one (yes it does require a capital ‘s’, I’m not being dramatic). I’ve been referred once before but wasn’t told about it so never really got myself worked up worrying about it BUT was furious when I found out they had the meeting without telling me. This time was a whole different ball game; my care-coordinator rang me up a couple of weeks ago to say that the team felt they couldn’t keep me safe in the community and that this was their only option. The word ‘stress’ comes to mind! Locked rehab is most likely out of area and for an average of 12-18 months in one of the places I rang up to quiz so you can see my predicament and how genuinely terrified I was. *Audible sigh of relief*

This four day weekend is dragggingggg!! Not great to spend what should be a fun weekend with family and friends on a psychiatric ward with nothing to do but stare at bad music being played on the Xbox. There’s really only so much subtitled Spanish music one can take. Luckily I have one of the most supportive families around and they come in most days, including this weekend, and brought Dukes along (my gorgeous if somewhat dim chocolate lab – my vet always says chocolates are the thickest).

I was asked the other day for a favour from one of the guys on my ward. I said no and found out later it was to use my phone to attain drugs. I later tried to explain that he only had one life and did he really want to spend the rest of it high or in an institution and at the time he really seemed to get it and I thought I’d got through to him but turns out unfortunately not. I’m sure your imagination can fill in the rest of the details. The thing is it kind of struck a nerve. When I was trying to get this guy to see sense I felt like I’d heard it before but to myself in regards with taking medication. I felt like a bit of a hypocrite actually. We all have our own drugs in life whether they be actual drugs, cigarettes, caffeine, alcohol, food, not taking prescribed meds etc. And then the thing was I felt really upset when I found out he’d taken them and I don’t even know him so imagine how my family and friends must feel when I relapse because I’ve not taken my pills!? It’s so simple to say and yet so hard to do but as a repeat offender I really am going to try. A NEW ME!