I lied to my psychiatrist today. I lied by telling her I had lied previously.

I told her a while ago that I had self destructive plans for when I left hospital, but refused to tell her what they were. I suppose part of me wanted to see if she'd find a way to stop me. Part of me didn't want to be stopped though, which is why I wouldn't go into detail.

After thinking it over, I decided that the urge to go ahead with my plans outweighs the part of me that wants to be stopped. And I want to get out of hospital for good.
So I wrote her a letter. It went something like this (I don't have the letter, she put it in my file, but I remember most of what it said):

"I am writing this because I am too ashamed to say it. I am not really planning something major for after my discharge. I made it up.
I was worried that because I haven't been hurting myself, everyone would think I'm ok, and stop trying to help me. I thought if I lied and said I was planning something major, it would show that I'm not ok.
That's why I never gave you any details of what I was planning - because there was no plan.
I probably would have kept lying, at least for a while, but being at home over Christmas reminded me of how much I miss not being in hospital. Continuing to lie would just keep me in hospital longer.
I'm really sorry for any trouble I've caused by lying. I hope you can understand why I did it, and possibly even forgive me."

I gave her the letter, saying, "Please don't read it out loud. I don't want to hear it said back to me."
She read the letter, and asked if I was telling the truth. I said yes. At this point I was shaking and digging my nails into my hand. She thought I was shaking because I'd admitted to lying, but I was shaking because I wasn't sure if she'd believe me or not.

She told me I looked distressed. I replied, "That's because of what I wrote in the letter. I'm afraid you'll think less of me for admitting I lied." She pointed out that I've lied before, and I said, "Yes, but this was a big lie. And I've never lied about something like this before. I don't want you to think badly of me." I started crying then.

She reassured me that she's never thought badly of me, that when I lie to her, it's because of my "illness" which she still believes is more than just a personality disorder. She congratulated me on not cutting for so long (nobody found out about my cuts from the other day), and told me that she really hopes this is a turning point for me. She went on to tell me about people who were self harming badly, who spent years in hospital, but eventually things got better for them, and they ended up having really good lives. I was still crying, which she probably thought was because what she said had touched me in some way. In reality I was crying because I felt guilty about deceiving her, about convincing her I'm ok, when I'm actually not.

She's having another case conference in 2 weeks, to discuss my discharge with the team. She let me out today, and I don't have to go back until Monday.