I think I am doing something that is breaking the top 10 of stupid things I have done. It’s a crowded field. Competition is tight.
I am in the psychiatric hospital still. I am seeing the consultant today and I don’t know whether to push to get discharged today (or even go against medical advice) or whether to acquiesce and stay a few days longer. Maybe the consultant will be quite happy with discharging me today. I don’t know as nobody is telling me what is going on.
I was told the middle of last week by a nurse that I trust that if I tried to leave then she thought they’d section me. However, I was told more recently by my named nurse that she didn’t think that I was detainable anymore. So I have options now. Probably. I don’t know the hospital consultant. I don’t know her tolerances and thresholds. They all vary and they’re not consistent.
Of course, leaving the hospital too early is not the stupid thing that I am doing. Well, it’s obviously a stupid thing but it doesn’t make the top 10 or even close to it. The stupid thing I am doing is falling in love with another inpatient. Falling? Fallen? He is almost as much a mess as I am.
He is doing a 28 day section after being arrested for something that I’m not quite sure about the details of but I think he stalked, harassed and threatened an old school friend who is now a psychiatrist. He used to talk a lot about what she’d done to him. That’s much less talk unless he is agitated but his fixation is still there. He stalked and harassed and possibly did more to his ex-wife. He might have been in prison for it. He is manic. I can see how much better he is in the time I have been here but he was badly, badly manic when I first met him. He doesn’t believe he has bipolar disorder. He is not taking medication. If he isn’t actually an alcoholic then he has a drinking problem.
He is so warm. So affectionate and kind. He is sharp as fuck. I want to touch to him all the time because he is so alive under my skin. I haven’t enjoyed anything in months (longer?) as much I enjoy stroking his arms and hands. I love it when he grips my waist. When he hugs me tight, I feel safe and complete. But also exhilarated and like I am flying. He looks into my eyes and smiles at me and I just want him. That’s it. I want him.
But he is dangerous and not safe despite my brain declaring him safe. This short term exhilaration is not worth the risk of him getting strange ideas about me. We also wouldn’t fit into each other’s lives as he is also twenty years old than me and religious. He is chaos and destabilisation and warmth and life and laughter and pain. And I just want him. So I think it is time to go home.