Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Sometimes I am just floating, going through the motions, not sad or depressed or manic or anything. I exist in a state of melancholy. I use work to cope. I’m working 9 days this week, and I realize 9 days is more than a week but that’s just what it is. If I didn’t have work I would sit and stare at the walls. I would get very restless and fidgety. I would stress out, staring out at the world in horror and wondering why I’m still here.

Packing up the last of my things. Getting rid of the last of my unwanted things. Cleaning, washing, organizing, counting, preparing…I move in less than a week.

Today I have a chance to get more of my stuff moved over to the house. George will probably be there. My mother will be there of course, bitter and drunk. I do want to go back to my house. And I don’t.

I’ve done all I can to get it ready for me in the time I had. There is a lot to do still once I move back in. It’s overwhelming me. I have yardwork to do. I got rid of a lot of crap, but I want to go through and get rid of even more crap. My mother’s hoarding and the smallness of my house makes it feel like there’s still no room for me.

Then grad school starts. But first I’m throwing a party. At the moment, the thought of dealing with anyone outside of patients is nauseating. But I also know it’s good for me. Dr B taught me a lot about the value of social activities even when I don’t feel like it. And I rarely feel like it. Especially lately, as I exist and float through reality and feel quite exhausted. When I try to sleep, I feel wide awake and worried. When I need to be awake, I am slow and listless.

I won’t lie; part of the reason I’m forcing myself into this party is to exert control. My mother has commandeered my house and wresting that control back is going to be arduous. I think the bonfire and BBQ I’m having will help. I already know how she’s going to react to me having people over. She will make it all about her, as though she has to do everything that comes with having people over. That’s the moment I’m waiting for – to tell her she won’t be doing anything in preparation for it. She will act like this is a relief, but it’s really just another avenue for her to be passive aggressive. Snide remarks, sabotage, things like that.

I talk about my mother too much in this blog. Makes me sick. But she is bad for me. I know that. Dr B knows it. Ceila knows it. Everyone knows it. But there’s not a goddamn thing I can do about it.

My book is finally complete, the last draft, all of that. It is now live on amazon (again). In the Darkness of Hope: https://a.co/d/2oe8r0d