[Sundae]

In the words of the immortal Papa Lazarou, "It's just a saga now."
I came to the day hospital yesterday, understanding that I'd be forced "home" (the flat) that night. I'd told anyone at Becklin who stood still for long enough about my problems with returning there completely unprepared, both practical and emotional, but no-one was interested.

When I got here (they call it Hawthorn, although it seems known by at least three different names outside) they listened. They called Becklin and refused to release me back to the flat overnight given the expected snow and cold weather and my precarious situation.

So back to Becklin, where I washed and dried everything possible and ate a big meal. and had a hot bath. I even had toast for breakfast - two slices WITH jam!
Then I expected to come back here today after discharge. I was up early to pack - the concession of me being accepted back last night was apparently that I was discharged today (Saturday) not Sunday.

However this morning I was stopped in the corridor on my way to the bathroom by a staff member who said that things had changed again, Hawthorn were being difficult (ie taking my needs into consideration) and I may be returning to Becklin for another night rather than being immediately discharged. So I wasn't to pack and take everything with me.

And then before I left there, it was suggested I may be discharged on return from Hawthorn tonight after all.

So here I am, on the computer, watching the snow fall, waiting to hear what is going to happen to me.
I have far more faith in this place than I do in anyone back there, but if I leave here in the dark and then Becklin try to discharge me I will kick and scream for another night in that bed.

It's just ridiculous. All I want is to go back to the flat in daylight, put the storage heaters on, reassure myself the electricity is switched on. I would rather they packed my room for me and sent it home, than pay for me to go back there and do it myself, not because it's a chore, but because it's a ridiculously circuitous route which will involve long waits on my part for very little reason.

Anyway, the plan when it happens is for me to come here daily for a while, never ever go back to the Becklin Centre ever again, and slowly work on making my flat habitable, sorting out my finances and getting myself better with the help of people here and via the two other agencies who will be working with me.

Of course at present the plans are being changed hourly, I face toting a great deal of stuff about in the dark, and my anxiety levels are running extremely high. Who knew leaving the nuthouse would be worse and more stressful than entering it, even wanting to put it behind me?