[Buttons.]

The next day I was worse. Far worse. My mind was milling with colliding trains of thought, I lost touch with any aspect of reality, the only thing real was the pain in my head, and the hole in my heart. I refused food, in the absence of objects to harm myself with (a drawing pin would not suffice) the gnawing sensation of hunger was all I had to cling to. I cried through the visit with first my CAMHS worker, and then the consultant psychiatrist. I felt nothing when he announced he was putting me on a strong sedative and advised upping my antidepressants. Even the mention of a visit from someone from the adolescent psychiatric unit meant nothing to me. I had gone far passed caring.

After the meeting with the consultant I fled to the bathroom. Once in there I searched desperately for something, Anything to take me away, if only for a minute. I contemplated smashing the mirror, before realising it would be futile-I would be heard before I could do damage. I canvassed the room, running my hands along every likely service. Eventually I investigated the bathtub, there for children who were on a long stay, and too young to use a shower. Looking round the back I found a metal tab that was inscribed with the words ‘Do not remove.’ I removed it, snapped the piece of metal in two to create a sharp edge, and dug it deep into my arm until my eyes watered with pain.


I leaned back against the wall, a cooling, calming sensation overcoming me. Finally, finally I could think straight.