Trigger warning: suicide and selfharm references in this post.

Around week 3,in hospital3 when I’d had the parole knock backs (links here), I was also exhausted, frustrated and finding the nights very difficult unable to sleep with continual noise,the bed was uncomfortable and I couldn’t get into a nice position to sleep in and my brain was running at 100mph

I ended up in some very mentally dark places, I thought about life in general and that I never thought I’d walk agsin and be in a wheel chair for the rest of my life; I never thought I’d get back into a gym or gymnastics again and my hobbies, social life,career and friends had been taken from me. I also didn’t think I’dgo beck to work properly or drive again. I started to wonder what my life would be in the future and it made me question if I wanted a life like that.,Had I been at home I think I could have possibly done something bad and-silly but in a hospital with verylimited movement and resources I couldn’t think of a way I could change things. But I realised I had a loving husband, children, family and friends and looking at how many stroke survivors, online who had made decent recoveries made me rethink my dark thoughts, I might have lost a lot of my physical skills but mentally I was still me. Still with my unfaltering dry humour and love;l felt tlike a dropped kinder egg thr shell might be damaged but the goods remained inside

I decided wallowing in self pity didn’t help me. That morning after my darkest night one of my favourite male nurses walked past my door and said I looked sad I said I was so he came for a hug, not realising how much it meant to me at that moment in time. I did have access to a psychiatrist for a while in hospital 3 too; a very pleasant lady who would listen to me complain about things I’d lost and how angry I was and I was angry with and blamed the surgeon she told me what I was going through it was almost like a grieving process and my emotions were normal but in time I would accept the changes and learn to live a new way and to keep battling alongside the physio team as it would be my ray of hope. She was right.

Without evidence I couldn’t solely blame the surgeon it could have been my general health issues. Or medication or other things, I wouldn’t know until I meet the surgeon again to discuss it and gain clarity, grieving for what I thought I had “lost” wouldn’t make it come back nor would it change what had happened instead I’d have to learn new things was driving off the cards forever? My ohysios / OTsaid nope I just needed good left arm and hand control and that may come, same again for work but I had 6 months of their time to get through before seriously considering driving and work and even then there are adaption s to consider and for my hobbies, gymnastics was probably not going to be something I’d get back to, moving atspeed. throwing my balance off intentionallyand learning to push hard and heavy with arms then try to land again on my feet was just too much of a bad combination so realistically wouldn’t be a hobby again, the gym was a possibility in fact the team told me they had an adapted gym I’d likely try in the future (link to rehab centre post)

There were days I’d cry all day and the smallest thing could set me off, one day I went to sit in the “stroke garden” an outdoor space next to the ward with plants, tables and benches I used the area a lot when the weather was nice. My parents took me out in the wheelchair and we sat at a table for a drink together. It was a table in memorial to a malepatient who I worked out via the plaque had been 40 and not survived their stroke, with the age so close to mine and the understanding how ill I had been made me cry for a while, but appreciate that things could have been worse, at least I was still alive with my team remaining positive for my outlook and seeing some progress.

After understanding I was in a grief cycle. I started to mentally push myself to get into a better headspace.

I lasted a few weeks of remaining mentally ok. Then one day it all came back like a ton of bricks, Rich had joined me for dinner in my room. Sat next to my bed, we were watching tv on the iPad together, I wanted to be at home doing it on a Friday night but it felt such a long way away I cried again and more so after Richard left as I was feeling lonely and as if the real me been sucked from the world.

Littlecdid I know how soon I’d end up at home doing those things again(home link) and with such quick developments once home (link to progress)