(though not necessarily in that order)

(though not necessarily in that order)

Wednesday, 1 December 2010

Sirens

Latest edition to my head: sirens. As in those on emergency service vehicles.

It started on Monday. I was walking along a road, and could hear the sirens. I don't know whether it was actually an ambulance nearby or not. There were no visible blue lights, so I suspect it wasn't even started by an actual ambulance.

Anyway, it started. And is getting a bit annoying. I have no idea when it is a real ambulance/police car/fire engine, or whether it is my head. But you can't really just assume it is always in your head, so I spend time outside trying to look to see any vehicles that could be making the noise. As stepping out in front of one by accident is generally considered a bad move.

Once, someone called 999 because of me. Ambulance first response guy turned up first, sirens blazing. He warned me that the police were coming and like to make a lot of noise, so it would get noisy in a short while as they came. True enough, the police turned up, sirens blazing. Then the ambulance turned up to take me away, sirens blazing.

I can still remember all the fuss. The road was closed off, so loads of vehicles were having to turn around and be directed away by the police. The police searched my tiny bag which had a sheet of paper with maths symbols on (slightly perplexed them, and somewhat confirmed my madness), a load of things that they took to go and have strong words with a local shop (who sold me stuff they shouldn't have) and they also took something off me which is technically illegal to carry around in a public place. Thankfully (that is a hugely emphasised use of the word thankfully) the police realised that me having this object on me was the least of my worries at that moment and didn't take the matter any further.

By the time the police arrived, I was sat down on the ground. Huddled with my knees under my chin. Shaking. Trying not to cause any more fuss. An attempt to end everything which went horribly wrong. Then more police turned up to help direct the traffic. Probably having come some distance with sirens blazing (I think that this town only has 4 police patrol cars, and I counted at least that around me...)

I always said I'd never cause a big fuss. That I'd never jump under a train as the driver/people involved didn't deserve it. Never do anything to end everything in a public place as passers-by didn't need to see it. Then I snapped. So quickly. The sirens came, sirens blazing.

Ironically, it was the huge weight gain from the psychiatric medication I was on which actually prevented that action being carried out. I was too heavy to properly climb to where I needed to be to do what I was intending to do.

Sirens meant vehicles coming because I was causing huge fuss. I've currently got sirens attacking my brain. There aren't any voices, just sirens. And I'm unable to distinguish between the ones coming from inside my head, and those outside.

Sirens swishing around and around in my head. They aren't real, but I'm convinced someone has somehow decided I am properly mad and unsafe and need to be locked up so have called everyone to come and take me away. Which is stupid, as it wouldn't be a huge amount of sirens, it would be an AMHP in a Ford Fiesta or something...

Snow is getting in the way too - I walk to most things I do in a week (I don't drive), and with my inability to stay upright at the best of times, I'm slipping and sliding all over the place. I would be in a seriously bad situation if I caused myself damage more than the occasional blue bruise. Tomorrow, I'm accompanying an exam which has some fiendish music in it. Broken wrists would result in that being impossible. Broken legs would result in a complete rethink of all the music I've got planned for this month (playing the organ is a complete body activity). Leaping out of my skin because I'm convinced that a police car is approaching isn't exactly helping matters.

I'm in the local newspaper *again* this week. So that is 5 appearances in 4 weeks in the local press. This time the picture accompanying the article is just of the back of my head, but people have already asked whether I've seen my picture in the newspaper. I shouldn't complain, publicity for local groups in the local press isn't exactly draining. But being a community figure is. When the telephone ringing is usually someone wanting me in one of my roles. A quick trip into the supermarket this morning had 3 "Hi Hannah! Cold, isn't it?" type remarks, as people know me. Oh to be an anonymous observer of the world, rather than involved is so many different circles of people that I can't go anywhere without being seen. So the sirens would know where I was if they tried to find me, as half the bloody town seem to know me by sight/name.

Mixed with the brain fog of depression, all of this is meaning I'm slowly turning into a non-functioning person again. When I'm getting ready to leave the house when my brain is co-operating but I'm feeling odd I say "OK" lots. Yesterday I sat at my desk saying "OK. OK. OK." Aloud. To no-one. Just to try and keep calm. It didn't really help.
Sirens realistically aren't coming to get me. In real life, people aren't aware things are a bit foggy so no-one is worrying. I am turning into a bundle of fairly paranoid threads wrapped up in the noises of a odd head and then double wrapped in a massive piece of used, half-popped, bubblewrap. Just what I always wanted...


[Sarcasm seems to be the only way to look at this without just retreating to under a duvet never to come out again. Realistically, the things that make up all parts of my life could be considered one huge farce. The person who called 999 on me will give me a bottle of wine this weekend as a thank you for an event I'm doing for one of her groups. Last week she *made* me take home huge amounts of cake. She has put me in her funeral wishes to play for her funeral. You couldn't make it up if you tried.
Jumping around thinking the police are about to tackle you to the ground is so preposterous too. I think if I told my CPN when I see her in 3 weeks time she'd just probably sit trying to stifle laughter at how illogical it all was. From someone who spends time considering logic problems, the real truth is none is out to get me, however, it sure as heck doesn't feel that way right now.]

3 comments:

  1. It sounds like things are really confusing and difficult for you at the moment - I am sorry honey. Unfortunately sometimes mental health problems make us lose some of our logic, and we think or behave in ways that are illogical. I don't think your CPN would laugh at you. She will be used to hearing things a lot stranger than this! Just take care honey, and remember that you can contact your CPN if you need to - that is what she is there for, not just for you to pretend everything is fine to. xxx

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  2. Confusing is the right word. It isn't your fault, you don't need to apologise.

    Problem is, CPN couldn't get to me at the moment if I contacted her. She might be able to get all the way from PsychTown to MyTown, but my road is not in a state which she could safely drive on. And I don't want her to have an accident. And a lengthy phone call will her would result in her worrying and sending out CrappyCrisisTeam who would attempt to get to me with a half-hearted attempt at persistence. Then tell me I look happy and I should have a bath. And I'm likely to threaten them to hit them with a calculator for being crappy. Which wouldn't improve the situation.

    Blah. It feels as if nothing but time and persevering through the fog will resolve this. Just wish it wasn't so tricky.

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  3. Oh, I have every confidence that hitting the crisis team with a calculator would improve ANY situation - it is something I will definitely keep in mind for future use. Just the idea of it makes me smile. But if CrappyCrisisTeam could reach you then CPN could, and if not you could perhaps just talk to her on the phone. I just don't feel like you ever get the support you need, because you are too busy trying to live up to being one of their few success stories. If you need help, you need help. x

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