Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Putting on my watch. The color of rust. New triggers that aren’t new. I have to live with it. My watch always reminds me of the restraints. It’s so dumb. The color of rust is the color of the scrubs for elopement risk patients at work when they’re on med surg. It’s a new thing. They still have the blue scrubs for psych patients in the psych unit or psych emergency. When I was detained there, I woke up in them after being knocked out with haldol. The blue doesn’t bother me. The rust does.

Some triggers are weirdly comforting. The anti-suicide blanket when I was in the mental hospital gave me comfort. It was thick and warm. I only had on a turtle suit and I was cold. After I got out, I bought one of those heavy weighted blankets in dark blue. I wanted that comforting blanket feeling again.

I made a twitter/X account and an Instagram account. I need them for my book’s social media campaign. I don’t know if it will do any good, but it will at least get the book out there. If people want to read it, great, otherwise I’d just as soon they don’t. Haha, I say that mostly in jest but a little part of me is terrified of getting it out there. Yet I feel compelled to do so and put in the effort anyway.

In the meantime, I’ve charged fully into another quarter of grad school. I paid the tuition, my crazy ass is doing it and I don’t know what I am thinking. Everyday, new doubts and worries and thoughts like “what was I thinking?” and “there’s no way this is going to work.” But I started the second quarter anyway and I am utterly overwhelmed at the enormity of this project – writing a book was easier – that it really just feels like too much. One day at a time, just like they teach us in the hospital and therapy and IOP. One day at a time.