Documenting my journey through the mental health system

IOP was so hard. I am overwhelmed. I question my ability to do this. I question any of it will work.

I became slightly overwhelmed with emotion and couldn’t quite articulate how I was feeling. I was starting to open up a little bit more (it’s extremely difficult for me to be vulnerable with a doctor, let alone a group of people) but today I couldn’t during the process hour at the beginning.

“Angel, would you like to share?” The therapist asked.

I shook my head. “I just want to be quiet.”

Then someone said they loved my style. I do enjoy fashion. He said he could tell I was going through some shit, and they were there for me. This kind of talk makes me feel so awkward. I am just not a sappy, comforting kind of guy. There are so many walls around me, and I don’t know yet, or at least I feel discouraged in the attempt, to break down the walls at least a little.

There was another reason I didn’t want to share. This has happened before, and I didn’t share that time either. There are nursing students sitting off to the side, “observing.” I don’t like it at all. My relationship with nurses is complicated. I work with them, and some are terrible. I’ve been a patient under them, and some were amazing. But I did not want anyone but us in that room. The group and the therapist. I really did not like those three wannabe nurses in the room just watching us, watching each person as they spoke. It really bothered me. So, I was quiet when it was my turn because I don’t need these people gawking at me. I just barely admitted Monday I hear voices. And I hear them now.

“Pay attention, this shows you parts of the future.”

“Watch the eye of the mind.”

“Dimensional crossing is destiny for some, death begins the process.”

“I exist outside of you.”

“Your 3-dimensional universe is only a tiny fraction of all reality.”

“Your time is soon, you will die.”

After group the therapist wanted to see me. She took me to a back room and asked how it was going, how the therapy felt, was there anything she could do to make it better or easier…I struggled to find the words. I had become a little tearful in class much to my humiliation a short time before break. Just sitting there, tears forming and my nose runny. I became a little tearful again.

“I feel like I’m incapable of this. Understanding this and incorporating it. I don’t know if I believe enough and without placebo…it just feels like I’ll never really get better.”

I trailed off, listening to Jack tell me it wasn’t like this would save me.

She didn’t notice and I told her about the students intruding on our very private group. No one seems bothered by their presence except for me. But she did say she would talk to her boss about it. There are other groups, they can go to those. I still don’t see how this helps them learn to pass pills and hang IVs. They can’t even roll a patient safely, because nursing school doesn’t teach that.

“Is there anything I can do, at all, to help you or make it a little easier for you?” She was asking.

“I can’t think of anything, but I’ll keep trying.”

And I guess that’s all I can do. I’m stable right now, I tell myself. Sit with the feelings like they taught you. Don’t judge them. Be mindful. Practice the mindfulness. Find positive experiences. Change behavior to influence emotion – smile in the mirror, sit up straight.

I’m taking all my sleeping meds now. I’ve GOT to sleep.