Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Something is happening but I dare not say what, for fear of ruining it.

The DIY detox seems to have gone well. As far as I can tell, my brother hasn’t had a drink since last Thursday. I metered out to him four ativan on day one, three on day two, three on day three and then two yesterday. Something like that. If there were going to be any lethal side effects of alcohol withdrawal, at least the ativan prevents them.

His foot is still broken though, he is still jobless and broke and made to go to IOP every day without a car to get there. I give rides when I can. I have a pretty strict work schedule. I know he’s very stressed about trying to find a job with all that going on. I would be absolutely losing it. I’ve been there before – Dealing with the stress of court bullshit, frantically trying to avoid homelessness, unable to find work or make it work with other obligations. Everything just sucks sometimes, and he’s really going through the weeds now.

He admits feeling better and less anxious about the drinking now that it’s not hanging over his head as something for which his PO can send him to jail. Hell, that shit was making me feel anxious too.

I have been taking my meds and staying consistent with them. I sometimes forget to take my nighttime mood stabilizer dose.

Here’s my med list:
abilify 15, lamictal 150 twice a day, effexor 150
Sleep meds: ativan, lunesta, vistaril, seroquel, trazodone, prazosin, gabapentin

I use the melatonin, gabapentin, prazosin, and vistaril for sleep every day. If those don’t quite work, I take my ativan, low dose of seroquel, and lunesta, a sleeping pill. I only use those on nights I won’t have to work. They’re more powerful. The trazodone I tend to avoid unless really desperate and I’m usually going to go for the lunesta and ativan if I’m desperate. Trazodone leaves you a zombie the next day. It’s too much of a cost. I only take it when I get locked up in the mental hospital. When it’s a true emergency and I have to be drugged.

I take a few vitamins, but who doesn’t these days?

My hypomanic feelings have flattened to a lumpy plateau. My baseline depression is a whispered reminder, a dark passengers so virulent I am forced to try to absorb it because fighting it only makes it stronger. My meds make me flat, and not as expressive. I used to be so expressive. I can’t not take the meds though.

I used to be a lot of things, including motivated, ambitious, even cutthroat. To be cutthroat in a social work environment – can you imagine?? I lived it, like a fool. But now some things might be happening, might be changing. And that is all I will say on the matter.