I know I will look back at this post and it will hit me how poorly I am/was and maybe a lot of this still won't make any sense, even then.

I am devastated to be sectioned and trapped in hospital. It feels like nobody is listening to me and that makes me want to retreat inward and stop talking altogether.

It's been two weeks. I remember bits of how and why I'm here at the Chelmsford Priory and in those lucid moments, I know I'm confusing family and friends with rational messages but I don't know how to explain something that I don't understand myself - and why should I have to? This is making me angry.

This is the reality of the mental health system. It seems we have to get into severe crisis before action is taken - and then it isn't the action we agreed upon in our crisis plan because things have escalated beyond a crisis plan. I wanted to be treated at home, yet here I am, stuck.

I am still hearing the violent voices. I feel agitated whilst awake and dead to the world when I eventually get to sleep with the medication. The food is really good.

I'm on Danbury ward and it feels so far away from home. There were no beds closer.

I remember getting home from work and I must have ended up in a dissociative state because I took another big overdose. I woke up in hospital, hallucinating. I was scared so I ran out of there and when I got home the police were waiting for me and sectioned me. Then they took me back to Frimley to get medically cleared and from there we went to the 136 suite in Guildford for a night because they thought there was a bed at Farnham Road hospital and then they realised there wasn’t and they took me to St Peters in Chertsey, where the police handed me over to the hospital once I'd been assessed by the AMHPs and my section had ended. I met lots of different police officers, quite possibly the whole of the Surrey Force! The nurses in the 136 suite at Chertsey were very kind even though I wasn't well at all. I was only allowed my mobile phone, they locked everything else away. I know I agreed to go voluntarily into hospital for a couple of weeks to "reset" as the Drs put it, but as soon as I arrived here, I was put on a section 5.2 This means the nurses can hold me for up to 72 hours until I am assessed again by a Dr. This didn't sit right with me and I kicked off. I tried to get out, I tried to strangle myself apparently and I also got into a fight. It always ends the same way - you get medicated and then you sleep. And the next day is a new day.

I'm sure they locked me in my room that night but I can't be sure. I tried to get out again the next day and I remember two lovely HCAs sitting with me and talking with me until I fell asleep.

At some point during a rare lucid moment, you realise that you are still in the same clothes from a week ago and you've possibly only showered once in that time. I did a massive Amazon order several days into my stay and got necessaties to make me feel more normal and comfortable.

I went through another assessment with AMHPs but I didn't want to talk to them. I met the Dr taking care of me and she put me on a Section 2. I'm determined to escape but first I have to break the lock on my cupboard door so I can access the things the nurses locked away like my nail file and tweezers and keys. I start doing a puzzle in my room so I can think and plan and prepare. I already know the perspex covering the sash window in my room has had one screw taken out by the previous occupant. They've paved the way for me! It's exciting and a daring distraction. I'm on 15 minute obs but the night staff aren't as diligent over the weekend so I make real progress and break the lock and also have several attempts at getting the perspex loose. I get caught and cautioned by nurses a few times and they take things off me, but I'm on a mission. I know I'm two floors up and I can jump onto the bench below me. There's a gate that is never locked leading to freedom. I can see it! I go in and out of co-operating with the staff and at one point I am restrained on my bed because I steal a knife and fork. Sleep is erractic, the meds aren't working and I feel like there's a pressure cooker in my head.

As of this moment, I've broke the perspex covering the window and now I can get to the screws on the mounts which keep the sash window from opening wider. I have to remember to keep the curtains drawn.

I know I'm in a bad place right now, but I'm not "present" enough to be able to change things. I've got an emergency psychology assessment tomorrow morning - virtual - how the hell..?! - with the hope of starting a group Stabilisation course on Thursday.

I'm only allowed a 3 day prescription for this new anti psychotic med I'm trying, Quetiapine, because I apparently overdosed on a large amount of them last week. I slept a hell of a lot (half of last week is a blur) and on World Mental Health Day (10th October), I was in A and E getting checked over for the fifth time in a month and wishing I'd gone to work instead.

I don't know where this will all end up. I'm beyond frightened.

Another chaotic week goes by and I actually feel suicidal now!

In between binging Homeland (and feeding my intrigue for the conflicts in the Middle East) and working full time, I don't even know where to start with describing the things that are happening. I am clinging to work and normality with the routine and organisation that I love.

I can't believe that the Home Treatment Team will not accept my GP's or CPN's referrals. This past week has consisted of mental distress beyond words, trying to cut my wrists in a psych evaluation, strangulation, overdose, time in resus. and then majors, trying to walk home in my socks and pjs, lack of sleep, suicidal thoughts spilling out of my mouth at work, crying and laughing hysterically, numerous rants to the safe haven and the crisis line because they won't discuss my records with me, abandonment, mood swings, feeling angry and violent, starting an anti psychotic but only allowed a 7-day prescription...

Hey, welcome to mental illness. It is horrible.

The only consistency I have right now is having the same CPN and Psychiatrist from the CMHT that I had two years ago. I believe this is largely down to the fact I have the same GP - and that wonderful GP is particularly interested in mental health and in helping me.