Trice

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant: if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.” – Anne Bradstreet

Coachella, a festival I had been dreaming of going to for years, especially since I knew The Weeknd would be playing. Imagine this, months of planning a road trip around America going with my best friends, going to Vineyard and then finishing off in an all-inclusive resort in Mexico. Well, what can I say it was just not meant to be. I was hospitalised a little over a month before I was due to fly out. I have mentioned before my second psychosis now we know as Mania had begun a few months prior to this event taking place. I was in my new flat, experiencing a new level of freedom, getting to grips with begin a responsible adult and just getting into the swing of the next chapter of my life. Well then it hit me, in the middle of London in a hotel where I was going to have the police called on me because I was not behaving ‘normally’ well obviously not I was right in the throes of Mania, this also consists of wanting to shed all ties to reality which also includes stripping your clothes off, which luckily I did in the toilet cubicle but I know of others where it has been public.

So I went into hospital and they didn’t have space in Northwick Park mental health unit, where I was placed during my previous episode. So I held out in Northwich Park A&E thinking I was able to manipulate the light colours and literally sleeping for 30 seconds a time until I realise whoever was with me had left and I would then go to look for them. After 4 days of this, I then was transported to Hammersmith mental health unit. That’s where I have one of the most horrific times of my life. It was an all ladies floor and there were people of all walks of life there. One person I was CONVINCED was Alanis Morrisette (or a really good doppelgänger). There we old, young, athletic, religious, really ill, not so ill. Some who would manipulate you, some that would tell you stories and you would believe them, you would get sucked into their reality and it soon became part of yours. I was so unwell that I was able to override many medications that would knock many out. I was on a hamster wheel for days on end. My temperature was up and down and I kept trying to ‘regulate’ myself by wetting my socks. I wasn’t allowed outside the building so I only saw the rooftop’s of London on the days we were allowed on the roof. I made ‘friends’ to realise that they weren’t friends of any sort, had one girl constantly following me around calling me my sister’s name. She used to come and knock on my door at night, I don’t know if it was because I was Indian she thought she could to me but all she used to do was follow me around and stare at me, it was really unnerving.

I was there for about 3 weeks and things like this carried on, new people joined and the atmosphere on the ward kept shifting. We would all take it in turns to have our own ‘episodes’ where the nurses would call you ‘Annie’ referring to you being out of your mind. I was sometimes scared for my life and other times thought I was invincible. This was my reality for a little while. Until finally I agreed to move to Nightingale Hospital, once I had yes it was quite quick. I packed up my very few belongings in brown paper bags and was taken in Uber with a male nurse to Marylebone. Nightingale is like a hotel in comparison to Hammersmith and I slowly started coming back into my own. Feeling better, responding to medication, sleeping better and socialising better. With this wellness also came the realisation that I had, had a life outside of this. And I then remembered I had my trip coming!! I had to inform my doctor, my sister and friend had been hoping I would be released before the trip and with enough time for me to pack. I tried to play down the extent of the trip to my doctor but he wasn’t stupid and asked to speak to Jess about what the trip entailed. And she went into how it was a music festival, then wine tasting and finally a boozed filled Mexican trip. See the problem with this is that because I was still somewhat ‘high’ it could make me higher and then we wouldn’t know what would happen especially in America where you have to disclose whether you have a mental health problem and can be denied entry (my friend was). So all in all it seemed like this was not a good idea for me. I, however will not back down and was then convincing my doctor that I could do the final leg of the trip and go to Mexico. Another flutter of phone calls etc. later and people at home not wanting me too. Well it did not happen! None of it, I wasn’t able to go anywhere and I lost my money for the flights and Coachealla.

Another kick in the teeth was me having Burna boy tickets the year after and then being in hospital again due to my low this time and I also missed that too. Wasn’t all that fun the last couple of years…..