Documenting my journey through the mental health system

There are some things worse than death.

I witness it every night at work and probably get a little secondhand trauma from seeing some of the horrible shit people go through.

Dementia and acute delirium is a case in point. Gone are the things that made you who you were. You are a human shell; a brain completely lost from itself. There is no hope, only further madness and decay. You are left tied to a bed, sputtering nonsense, and slowly and horribly dying. The only good outcome is a death shrouded in good drugs.

Developmental delay and mental retardation is another case in point. Unable to understand, unable to follow direction, unable to even learn. Proof there is no god, or at least proof god makes mistakes. Horrible ones. You are left a burden on others. Also sputtering, usually unable to speak, and eventually tied to a bed when you need medical treatment and can’t leave your IVs alone.

I sound like a monster. Like I have no compassion or empathy. It’s not that I don’t feel bad, but it does add to a deep sense of burnout and hopelessness. It feels like I never make a dent. It feels like all this is pointless. It feels like a lot of humans were never meant to be born. I often include myself in that assessment.

Another thing that makes me sound like a monster – why do we pretend to care about prisoners killing themselves? We go through all these lengths to prevent suicide but what do we really care? No one cares about those people so why do we pretend? It’s so disingenuous.

I’m tired.

Rylee the therapist would say find your glimmers, the opposites of triggers. I listened to music in my car at lunch. I should have eaten but I’m too anxious and stressed out. I like writing but sometimes it’s just to process whatever I’m going through mentally and isn’t exactly a glimmer. I don’t have any right now. I don’t know what to draw on while in the middle of another crazy shift.

I got my copy of my book. It will be one of only a couple copies in color. I negotiated the price down to $12.99 for paperback and $21.99 for hardcover by making it all in black and white. There is one glaring typo – my military discharge date is wrong. But oh well. What’s done is done. The book is out.

I feel better staying busy, usually. I have a lot to do after work. The hardwood restoration is complete and I’m meeting them at the house to pay them. I have to get my blood drawn so they can monitor my levels with the different medications I’m on. I’m borrowing a trailer to load up pretty much everything in my carport and get rid of it all once and for all. Much of it is my mother’s hoarding but as she proclaimed the other day – “it ain’t my shit!” Then I expect no resistance as I throw it all away. There is very little in that carport I’ll actually be keeping. I just need a place to park!

I can essentially start moving my shit back in. I’m systematically going through everything, getting rid of so much. I’m not going to start systematically going through the house till I get fully moved in. I am both dreading and looking forward to that day. I’m happy with the updates to the house, and I’m not done. I’m taking out a wall and installing a window end of this month. Also getting a new back door.

I ordered my dining room table before tariffs clear out store shelves and items like furniture. There is not much more to order. I loved shopping on Temu but that has been reduced to a tariff nightmare.

Get your shopping done now while you can – the shortages and disruptions of covid are child’s play compared to what is to come.