coldutewarmheart

I wrote this on 14th of October, but never got round to publishing then, so am putting it up now.. I've now been discharged (and things are going fairly well), so I'll try to put another more-up-to-date update up soon ☺️ ---- These last couple of weeks have been amazing and awful and difficult and hopeful and pretty much every other emotion possible! Mentally I'm doing so so so much better. My PTSD has settled. In these last few days I've got to the stage where I feel comfortable and confident with a lot of members of staff, which is amazing. Yeah, I'm still anxious. Yes, I still struggle to envisage my future. But it feels like I have options and there are possibilities and I can build a worthwhile and satisfying life. In comparison to where my head was prior to admission, this is all incredible. I don't pretend I'm 'all better' mentally, because I'm not and I do still have a lot of issues, *but* I've come a really long way in these last few...

On the 8th of September, I was admitted to a neurorehabilitation ward. I had no idea how well I'd cope- physically or mentally. In the month or so prior to admission, I went downhill a lot. And I mean A LOT. To the point where I was questioning the need to accept a hoist or go into a nursing home short-term. It was that bad. I was having non-epileptic seizures almost daily, that were lasting hours, and was feeling deathly. I even ended up in an ambulance to A&E at one point due to spending all day barely conscious. When I got the call to say my admission was imminent rather than several months away, I was shocked, but actually relieved more than anything. I knew I desperately needed the help, and the situation had become so difficult with me at home that something had to change urgently, so it felt like it had come at just the right time. I felt ready and keen, while also fully aware that it was going to be physically and mentally challenging.. The first day, I arrived and the ...