The Borderline Diaries by Elisa Frank

Author:Elisa Frank
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Elisa, Frank, Ahmad, Otak, Kimberley, Samantha, Sykes, Wakefield, murder, PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, BPD, Borderline Personality Disorder, Borderline
ISBN: 9781910027028
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2015-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

Eight

The Magic Carpet

Right now I am unsure about anything other than that I have a desire to bathe in soothing cocoa bath oil and listen to the chit chat of the cleaning staff in the corridors. I don’t usually take a bath in the morning but I feel that if I lie there then I will come up with a plan for the day. I take my hospital towel and ask for the bathroom to be opened, hoping to dissolve in the milky water; the oil makes my skin feel silken soft. I approve, putting my head back ready to listen to my inner self come up with an adventure for the day. I listen to footsteps as I sit up swishing the water with my hands. The sound is that of patients walking round to the medical room for morning medication. I am on nothing on mornings so I stay where I am as time passes and the water turns cold. I pull myself out of the bath and tiptoe across to the towel rail so I don’t get water everywhere, wrapping the towel around my bust as I prepare to brush my teeth. I am refreshed, so why do I look so blemished?

I brush my thinning teeth at least seven times a day now. The enamel has been eroded by my stomach acid when I throw up. Over-brushing is not good, I am told, but I don’t care if my gums bleed a little; I relish any pain and the feeling of bleeding gums is kind of pleasurable. It’s become a kind of habit that began in here, the same as my cigarette consumption which has grew considerably to about twenty a day. My throat hurts and to be honest by the time I leave here I will probably be going round the corner to the general hospital for smoking-related problems.

I walk into the dining hall with a spring in my step. These walls of peaceful, bland blue won’t get me down because today I am allowed out for a couple of hours. And not just on the hospital grounds, which by the way happen to be quite large with a café situated at the top end next to a building where all the criminally insane are put. I see them in the Oasis Café sometimes, where they are always escorted and always very polite in speech. The café is run by a woman who could easily pass as a patient, smiley and rather round. Good for her, I think, as smiley people are liked right away, especially the chubby kind, although overly smiley people are just seen as weird because it’s like they know something you don’t.

The other patients are just finishing breakfast. I say “Hello” to Adam and Carla, who still has jam around her mouth, and ask for a clean cup as all the other pastel blue plastic cups have been taken.

“You up for a game of pool?” Ron shouts from the pool table. He has shaved his beard off to impress me, I gather.

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