Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Maybe dissociation can come in handy. Maybe my lack of feeling will have to be a tool.

This job is exposing me to the good, bad, and ugly of our society and my city specifically. Med/surg is fast-paced and dynamic. And I question all my life choices that brought me here.

I always wanted to work in healthcare, in some capacity or other. I spent a long time pursuing a career in mental health (yes, those working in mental health are crazy) and did so for awhile. I was a certified counselor while working on my masters. It did not work out, as I have detailed previously in this blog. My bipolar disorder and existential paradigm shifts came barreling through like a runaway train, destroying everything in its path.

I have not stopped thinking of that poor man in restraints. The worst day of his life…just like it was for me. Several worst days.

I had dreams I was kidnapped and brought to a “hospital” that tied me down and poked me with needles. I woke up in a cold sweat. I’m waiting on my refill of Prazosin, a medication that helps with nightmares. Besides writing, I’m having trouble using coping skills I’ve learned to help with the dissociation and sense of depersonalization. At the same time, the disconnection is protecting me in some way.

And what else am I supposed to do? Keep crying? Feel his feelings? Feel my feelings?