Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Week four of IOP and probably one of the more important modules, at least for me, is about to close tomorrow – Emotion Regulation. I have really struggled with some of the concepts and incorporating them into daily life.

One exercise involved drawing concentric circles and in the inner, writing the emotions we do not allow ourselves to feel, and in the outer circle, emotions we do allow ourselves to feel. Emotions I allow myself to feel – of course hopelessness, despair, worry, anxiety, fear, depression, anger, mania. Emotions that are hard to allow myself to feel because I’m afraid of their fleeting/illusory nature – happiness, any joy, any excitement or even contentment and peace. But I get stuck on the words “allow” or “not allow” as though my emotions are up to me. As though they knock on the door to my psyche and ask to come in. No, this is a home invasion. The door is knocked down, they have taken up all the space in the home, they have made a mess of everything and they won’t leave.

The therapist and others in the group talked a lot about holding the emotion – whether a distressing one or not – mindfully in the present moment. Don’t try to fix the emotion, don’t try to judge them, don’t try to ascertain whether it is a good or bad emotion. Just sit with it. I can wrap my head around this but my emotions sometimes feel much larger than me. They are overwhelming and I feel everything strongly, intensely, as the doctor said in the mental hospital when I had an absolute fit just because I couldn’t take a shower. The distress and anger and indignation was so big, bigger than my ability to regulate or sit with. I’ve learned a fair amount about myself and my big emotions in the last couple months, and especially this last week. I am overwhelmed with the tall order of trying to bring them down to size or trying to sit next to their large size or trying to not judge and be afraid of their large size. In trying to be less stressed, I get more stressed. I am discouraged about my ability to incorporate what the therapist said.

My symptoms of general hypomania persist. I need a couple hours of sleep a day, sometimes less. My body is buzzing, and there is a crackling in my head. I talk faster, more pressured. At work, I am considered very funny as I pop off with one liners and dark jokes. My libido seems to be insatiable, but I have a few sex partners who I know are safe. The doctor sent me condoms.

IOP does get in the way of sleep, but only for a couple days a week. Those are the days I don’t have enough sleep time to bother taking my new sleep meds, Mondays and every other Wednesday. So to me, it’s not a big deal because this IOP feels like a lifeline, a last chance, a desperate bid to get and stay stable and avoid my worst fears – another violent detainment, loss of functioning, institutionalization. And in the end, I may end up right back where I was. I know that, and Dr Black encourages me not to see IOP as a “last chance” – that bipolar and PTSD do worsen over time and that I should practice acceptance instead. I get that, but the idea of riding manic low and high waves in perpetuity while trying to dodge more hospitalizations is exhausting just to think about.