So how did I get to a remote cottage in South Northamptonshire from London all of a sudden?
I need to explore so based on as much of objective evidence in form of feedback from people,legal & medical authorities who have had witnessed the state I was in, was involved in dealing with me, the actions that I took and the consequences that followed. I now have a copy of my bank statement too which offers further clarity in establishing the chronology of events to a fair degree. My 'mind' remembers little.
This 'thinking'- template should allow me to steer clear of subjective/emotional indulgences as much as possible that, while quite honestly would be human (at this point) and thus might, occasionally seep through. I will try my best not to indulge in any 'self-indulgent' catharsis masquerading as a process of deflection.
So,On the evening of Friday, the 27th of November, I found myself in Notting Hill when I pressed the 'button' spectacularly. What followed was a period of insane wandering through the streets of West/Central London along with a rapid deterioration of coherence or any sense of self preservation. I did have a fair amount of money at that point (saved for Christmas) which I used to book myself in numerous hotels to shelter me for consecutive nights.
I finally woke up in a Travelodge in the early hours of a morning surrounded by the hotel manager, paramedics and police officers around my bed. I was taken by ambulance to a Hospital where I was told that I had suffered a heart attack. The insanity had made me oblivious of my condition and I kept running away from the observation ward time and time again , recaptured by the police and being brought back!
The Mental Health crisis team finally offered me a bed in a secure unit. I was seen by a team comprising of a Senior Consultant, junior doctors, social services personnel and pharmacists whose decision was to keep me as an inpatient for an indefinite period. Since I wasn't 'sectioned' under the Mental Health Act, I signed myself out on my own accord within 24 hours.
I was out in the streets without any possessions or money. I begged and slept rough around the West End/Oxford Street areas. Finally to Euston Station as I wanted to come back to Northamptonshire to say goodbyes to much loved friends. A ticket-less ride brought me to Northampton around midnight on the first Friday of December (4/5th?).
There were no place available in the night shelter and no one I knew was willing to put me up (as by then I had bombarded all with all sorts of nasty notes and texts). Yes, I wholeheartedly agree that I would have certainly been perceived to have been a danger to myself and others (particularly those at the receiving ends of my 'Satanic Verses').So a couple of nights of begging,nearing hypothermia,huddled in shop-fronts and early morning trips to the Night Shelter (drawing blanks), followed by a hot drink at the soup kitchen and I found myself still miraculously alive!!
On the Monday morning, a local Christian organisation offered shelter and brought me where I have been living since.
On a lighter note: Blimey! begging is hard work you know!! You only make a couple of quid in an hour from a throng of Christmas shoppers adorned with Harvey Nichols', John Lewis' & Selfridge's bags at the heart of the West End! Tight-fisted wankers!
The scariest thing is my feelings almost border on all these are 'almost funny'.
Steady, beautiful snow!!
Contact from both my daughters!
See, that's what you get for living in Northamptonshire (yes I know the pleasure too). Of course one way to look at things is 'Now I know how hard the beggars have it' and if you ever ignored them before you can... well, possibly ignore them again and go 'Poor bugger'. I'm probably not the best to offer advice but then what the hell, it's worth a shot. Looks like whilst you accept your diagnosis as being what the doctors say and that it explains a lot... you don't really accept that there is anything fundamentally wrong with you. This is quite common in the throws of mania, hell, getting someone with manic depression to take meds on a regular basis is a major struggle in itself. Thing is deep down you search for answers which are rarely available from the medical profession as it seems they're making it up as much as anyone else, you seem unsure of yourself despite the insight you have into yourself and are probably on the verge of going for religion as it provides security to some degree.
ReplyDeleteCould be I'm way off the mark, wouldn't surprise me but like I said it's worth a shot. However, if it's starting to ring bells like Quazimodo on a mission then perhaps it's time for the insight to be properly focused on where you are at this time, where you want to be, and most importantly what you truly and deeply want. Without this you're just going to be circling the metaphorical drain and make no mistake, you will go down, it's just a matter of time (regardless of metaphorical boyancy).