A week in hospital

I got to a point where I was eating so unhealthy due to my depression, and not leaving the house for any exercise due to my anxiety, that my health took a turn for the worst. I won’t give details regarding what happened, but I was in pain. A lot of bloody pain!

I was rushed into A&E, and was there around 12 hours before even heading to a comfortable bed. That didn’t help. People passing in the corridor, wondering what was wrong. Staring at me. They probably weren’t staring at me, but I felt like they were. It got so bad at one point, I began to have a panic attack.

My actual thoughts at this point – They don’t care. They’re going to leave me here to die. If I die, who will be a female role model in my girls life. My mum will have to do it. I’ll text her now to say that I love her. But what about my stuff, will she know which things I want My daughter to keep? Probably not. I’ll write a list on my phone. My partner can get in he knows my password. But, he doesn’t know how to take care of bills etc. I’ll have to write that down too…

You can see where this conversation in my head lead. A huge gigantic list of utter nonsense on my phone, which actually never saw the light of day.

Anyhow, it was a gruelling experience. I didn’t want to be out of my house. I had been in pain for about a week, and thought if I left the house it would only get worse. I was wrong. I was helpless. By this point, I couldn’t walk without every inch of my body hurting. So my partner made the decision, and off to the hospital we went.

This blog is not really about my stay in hospital, it is about how I felt being at the peak of my anxiety and scarily out of the house for a total of 6 days.

As you can imagine, I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. In a hospital, this is impossible. There are people everywhere. Doctors, nurses, other patients… everywhere!

I tried to ask my partner to close the curtain when he left after visiting hours, but the nurses only opened it 10 minutes later. I wasn’t used to all this chatter. Don’t get me wrong, they were lovely people. I remember thinking, if I wasn’t feeling like this we would probably have some good conversations. But I was feeling this way, there was no getting from the thoughts in my head.

My brain kept telling me that everyone knew what a failure I was, how stupid I was, how fat I was, how my stomach was so disgusting that that’s why they were staring at me.

My anxiety was getting very bad, and my 3rd day in hospital it spiralled. In agony, I slowly walked out of the ward and just fell to the bathroom. I cried.. for a whole hour in the cubicle. I just couldn’t leave, I couldn’t face it out there.

A little old lady came in and asked if I was okay. I quietly replied that I was fine. She waited. I cried silently for about 20 minutes, and I thought she had left. She waited. We spoke through the cubicle about how I felt, and she said the most down-to-earth thing I have ever heard.

“Love, don’t you worry about everyone else out there. They’re probably feeling the same as you right now. Just make sure you’re happy and healthy. That’s all that matters in life, trust me”

I’ll never forget her little voice through the toilet door. I got up and walked out, but she had gone.

And just like that, I felt okay. Just for a moment, I built up the courage to leave the bathroom. It wasn’t easy getting through that hospital stay, but I done it. I pretended to chat to other patients, the nurses said I had perked up. It was a flying start to getting back home. That was my goal.. get home and get back to my anxiety ridden self!

3 thoughts on “A week in hospital

  1. A heart-to-heart post. Keep positive and I hope you feel better soon. x


  2. I hope you will be in a better place soon. My mind never shuts off either. It’s like a constant internal conversation that is so exhausting. Big hug x


    1. I’m exactly the same! It’s like I overthink everything, then overthink about overthinking. It’s a catch 22 situation. I’m here for you if you need someone to have a chat 😘 x


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