Four weeks today it will be my Birthday and I will still be here on a general ward being tube fed with two staff either side of me. I’ve asked for leave, to go out for the day and I don’t know if that will happen but even if it does I will still wake up a year older in my hospital bed. I will still go to sleep that night on a ward instead of at home. I will most likely still have staff with me if I go out and I will be in a wheelchair.
It makes me feel sad that I’m spending yet another birthday in hospital. It symbolises another wasted year that has flown by. It’s another Birthday with sad memories attached to it like the Birthday I couldn’t stop crying and the day out in London that was ruined by body image and obsessive body checking. The Birthday I overdosed on. There will be no Birthday cake yet again this year because I’m too terrified to be around it let alone eat it.
Years are flying by, the clock is ticking and I am wasting it all to mental illness. So many Birthdays have passed where I’ve been unwell. So many years spent stuck in this whirlwind and I still can’t find my way out. I wonder if next year I’ll be home and if I’ll be able to celebrate my birthday normally with friends, going out, eating cake but I still see myself being in the unit in Coventry miles from home.
The prospect of spending another Birthday in hospital is overall quite upsetting.