bipolar
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Maybe something is changing. Even if just a little. I have so much pent-up energy and my bones are sizzling. I used ativan, melatonin, vistaril, and gabapentin to force myself to sleep before work. On my way to work, I drove by the mental hospital as I always do and this time, not the panic
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A man knows not where he is. Drifting through a conscious unawareness, confused at why these people are in his house. Calling out to his long dead wife. Do we live too long? Have all our medical advances only prolonged the life of our bodies at the cost of our minds? I don’t know. We
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I ordered the bunk bed with shelving and the two twin mattresses. I am totally fixated. I want this done and the room restored. It’s a storage area too, and I’ve told my mother to put in there whatever she wants. I bought a nice two layer clothing rack and hung up all her stuff.
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There is a construction zone around 4th avenue, and I must detour on my way to work. The mental hospital is on my route to work, so now instead of driving by it, I drive with it looming in front of me. I don’t know that I will ever get over it. I have a
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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
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All Hallow’s Eve…and patients are off the hook all around me. The only day I work this week at Sacred Heart – and I’ve got sad cases, chaotic cases, all of it boiling down to the violence of our hyper capitalistic living. What people do to cope is incredible…like the 30-year-old girl dying of liver
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I don’t feel very good and I feel bad for feeling bad. I’m thinking a lot about my psych meds. The first group I had to attend my very first morning in the mental hospital last year was about “making the most of your psychiatric medications.” How to take them every day without fail no
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I’ve caught up on my meds. I’m feeling rather turbo charged despite a lack of sleep and living on mostly chocolate the last few days. The PTSD symptoms are still ever present. I saw a rust-colored car and immediately felt short of breath and my heart beat faster. Rust is the color of the elopement
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I missed my meds this morning. Oops. I can’t decide whether to stay home or go out this Halloween. Both options are overwhelming. Home with my mother, who is often plain miserable to be around, or my elaborate costume idea and going to a show to which I’ve been invited. Here is the idea: first
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My heart constricts in my chest, and my breath shortens as I go through triggers in the environment. I perseverate on memories and traumas, and my body goes through it all over again. I’m so frustrated at what feels like a never-ending battle. I’m not supposed to fight it but comfort the painful feelings and
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 