anxiety
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My 7th night saw me pass out shortly after meds, practically asleep before my head hit the pillow. I pieced together my episodes of sleepwalking from medical records, chart notes, and verbal reports. That night I actually got up and started walking around my room. I went out and headed straight for the main doors.
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My first week in the hospital, a living nightmare, had passed. On day seven I felt so groggy, so heavy and sedated, I barely noticed when they came for vitals at 6am. The doctor came to see me first thing. “How are you feeling?” “Shitty,” I could barely mumble. I kept my eyes closed. “Dirty?”
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“Please, don’t make me take seroquel anymore, the RLS is unbearable. Please,” I begged the doctor on my sixth day, plagued with jerking and twisting legs all night, kicking, moaning, and walking around my room in anxious desperation. Room checks, where I was offered more PRNs, startled me every 15 minutes. “Okay…okay,” the doctor said
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When I was released from the mental hospital last month, it was with the understanding I would be enrolled in intensive outpatient treatment to maintain and continue learning coping strategies, distress tolerance, and better impulse control, among other things. I had my assessment through the mental hospital’s IOP program on Thursday, which lasted over two
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I detailed in depth the story of my very recent detainment, violent and traumatic. I’m still dealing with flashbacks and bad dreams. It triggered a lot of other older, terrifying memories of the first time I was detained 10 years ago. That too was violent and traumatic. And I really hoped it would never happen
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I see my psychologist weekly, and had my appointment with her this morning after my shift. I’ve been back at work three weeks now. I told her how I’ve been doing, how hard I’ve tried to be normal – “You’re not normal. This is the acceptance part of who you are. You’re different, and you’ll
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I have tried to keep busy. Yesterday I saw my supported employment case manager for the first time since before my recent detainment. He is still rather new to me, but I’ve been involved in the supported employment program at the VA for over 10 years now. They helped me get the job I have,
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Sometimes the dissociation gets so bad I can’t move much or talk or otherwise do anything. Today has been one of those days. I cut back on my drinking, but not today. I spent last night on my back, amongst my new weighted blanket (more on that in a minute) sucked into flashbacks and strange
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 