Documenting my journey through the mental health system

“What do you think Dr. P? Did you imagine me capable of this?”

“How about you, Shirley? – you were the one who told me to take classes again.”

I think about them sometimes. The staff and other patients in the hospital with me. Shirley was a nurse who dealt with my sleepwalking, gave me my nighttime meds, told me I was a smart guy who could totally take classes again and do well. I had told her of my failures, my previous attempts at success, and the feeling that I would never make it, not like they had. She said I had and could easily do more.

Dr P diagnosed me with a unique form or borderline on top of my bipolar and PTSD. A unique cluster of features. I like to hide things away. In crisis, I lose all emotional regulation and become quite petulant if my requests are denied. In the hospital I wept bitterly and felt really distressed when I was told I couldn’t have a shower, it was time for morning group. I had missed the shower time. I was so frustrated I cried and then the doctor came in. He asked me if I’d ever been diagnosed with borderline. I would later see more of his notes about me and the notes about me in the court detainment paperwork. I was a shell of myself back then, however. I have borderline characteristics, for sure. None of the drama, all of the self-harm and isolation. The poor self-image. Little frustration tolerance (though that has gotten better. I’ve improved).

My bipolar highs and lows arch and crest but it’s not so severe as before. The lows go so low I plan and attempt suicide. I failed in my last attempt, or at least, was thwarted. And the time before that was thwarted by my doctor, who made me come in under threat of police at my house.

My highs are not so high that I become psychotic, but I feel it in there. I’ve had (recent) delusions of grandeur and heard voices telling me important things only I know. I don’t think I have any delusional beliefs now, but it’s impossible to say without talking to my doctor about it.

I don’t see him until April. That’s fine, I think I am as stable as I could ever be. It is a constant project in vigilance. Don’t miss the meds. Don’t do excessive drugs. Get the sleep, use more meds if necessary. Eat the food. Move around some. Get some relaxation, and actually do it right, no sitting and wallowing in pain. Practice mindfulness every day. Take a walk for my stupid mental health.