Documenting my journey through the mental health system

I’m trying to use coping skills. The little dumb ones, like listening to music, especially during triggers and stress. Writing. You think this blog is cringe? Should see my paper journal. I use grounding when I dissociate – what can I feel? See? Hear? This involves a bit of mindfulness, and I am not always successful.

Work is my not so healthy but not so bad coping mechanism. Despite the barrage of triggers here at SHMC, I’m really good at the job. Most parts of it. I hate sitting with patients. I’m no good at sitting with a patient that just attempted suicide. It is just too hard for me. At both my jobs, I cannot work or float to the psych units or psych ED. Both my jobs have been reasonably accommodating toward me and my psych needs. I had to be a little more open and less “guarded” as my mental hospital patient notes said. My direct supervisor was really supportive when I showed her my book.

I’m finally tackling my mother’s room – the carpet is destroyed so I’m having it ripped out and the floor restored. It is going to be such a pain in the ass. Not the actual work, mainly dealing with my mom who will go through it kicking and screaming. A lot of her shit is in there, I have to get it out, and I know she won’t be helpful. I don’t need her to be, I already told her that. I just know it’s going to be a shit day.

I’m not supposed to think like that. Assume the worst. Catastrophize. It’ll be good in the end. She’ll have a room again.