Documenting my journey through the mental health system

Today – the 19th – is my birthday. I am now 41 years old.

They say aging is supposed to mellow you out but I’m as high strung as I always was. Restless, sometimes hypomanic, medicated for bipolar swings, and with great skin.

I don’t look my age. I look like I’m in my early 30s. I don’t feel like I’m in my 40s but I don’t know what that’s supposed to feel like. I have some twinges in my hips and knees and they pop a lot. No pain yet. I take really good care of my skin, especially on my face. Less is more. Exfoliate. Don’t get sunburnt. I also use benzoyl peroxide every day for any potential acne or breakouts. My other medication, testosterone, makes breaking out more likely.

More years = more meds. I take a handful of psych meds every day and then there are other things like my testosterone and benzoyl cream and once in awhile, an Ativan to force myself to sleep when I am particularly revved up. I used to take a multivitamin every day but I quit that after my doc said to try going without it to see if my calcium would stabilize. I don’t know if I should again. Seems like I probably should.

There is more life behind me now than in front of me. That is crazy to me – I wanted to kill myself a year into my time in the Army and most recently 2 years ago, when I got detained in a mental hospital for depression and psychosis. Somehow I survived my own suicide attempts, all because I didn’t have a gun. The overdoses, the hangings, all in the past now. I don’t know what my limited future holds, I just want to be done with this masters program and potentially quit my job.