From the psychiatric ward.

There are two types of patients in here; those who are terrified of going home and those who are 

terrified of not getting out. I classify myself in the former category. I feel safe and I am getting the help for which I have long yearned. I have so many  like minded friends, there are even men who I can relate to without being afraid.

I remember taking the overdose and I remember why, but I don't remember why I thought it was a good idea. It's the same as the reason why I wanted to be drunk, it's escape, running from the truth, from reality which can be the most frightening thing to face.

I am so grateful for all the help and positive attention I have received here. I have had daily appointments with the psychiatrist, two group therapy sessions daily, occupational therapy, a social worker to help me organise my finances, a dietician, wonderful new friends, three meals a day the list goes on.

The other patients provide me with such positive energy and I've met people with the same illness as me. The intention is to pursue the relationships on the outside. Will we soothe one another due to the understanding we have of each other's illness or will we encourage the craziness and negative thought processes. 

Interestingly, I came across a very interesting article in the Weekly review section of the Guardian Weekly. The article was written about Barbara Taylor who is an academic known for her outstanding work on history and feminism. She also wrote a book called 'The Last Asylum: A Memoir of Madness in our Times'. Barbara wrote of her friend whom she met during her stay in Friern Hospital, 'Magda suffered terribly from black depression yet nearly always she would pull herself together to be with me. Usually I did the same for her. The obligations of friendship trumped madness - and this in itself could be a form of healing'.