Judge my delight when I woke up, looked at my watch and saw it was 0505 - nearly 8 hours. Imagine then my disappointment when I saw that I'd been reading the thing incorrectly, and it was , in fact, 0125. That's 4 hours. Oh well - I still feel as though I can get more - I haven't got that sinking feeling when you know that's it. I've become a bit of an expert when it comes to signs of sleepiness recently, and I've been having that "there's no point in going back to bed" feeling. Tonight, I didn't fight the drugs - I was too exhausted - and I think I still have sleep left in me. So I shall try again in a minute.
I don't know why I fight drugs, but I do. It must be a control thing, and as I've mentioned before on these pages, I like to be in control. When I"ve had a general anaesthetic and am in the recovery room, I fight to wake up - -after ECTs I was always the first to get to the tea and biscuits. The exception to this was after I had a big back operation - I didn't come round until the following day. When I did wake, there was a MacMillan nurse bending over me. My first thought was "this is worse that I realised", but she'd only come in to fix my syringe driver to wean me off morphine. Relief. Coming off morphine was very hard - they reduced the amount in the syringe driver each day, and that was fine, but I came off it early so that I could go home for overnight leave. Well. I had hallucinations - insects all over the ceiling and floor, ants under my skin and people in my bedroom. I had the shakes and i sweated. Going home certainly wasn't worth it.
Going home from a psychiatric hospital for a night's leave is very different. The psych hospital is the only place where I easily relinquish control when I'm ill. I think when my illness gets to that stage, I realise I'm not in control, so I happily give it up to the staff. Having done that, I don't want it back. The relief is tangible. When I'm on the mend and have to go for home leave, it's frightening, because I haven't got control back. Also, I become institutionalised very quickly, so that makes it much harder. It does get better, but the first few days at home are scary.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?