depression
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Slowly and methodically, I’m going through my small house and clearing a lot of things out, and cleaning a lot. My mother is not as clean as she thinks she is so it’s been a whole spring cleaning style endeavor. I enjoy it, I can meditate while I do chores and look after the seven
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Sometimes I am just floating, going through the motions, not sad or depressed or manic or anything. I exist in a state of melancholy. I use work to cope. I’m working 9 days this week, and I realize 9 days is more than a week but that’s just what it is. If I didn’t have
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I have kept crazy busy to avoid the anxiety, but the stress of a lot to do with the mental preparation of living with my mother again has my heart beating fast sometimes. I got a carload over there. Started taking stuff over, whatever can fit in my car. Going through the last of my
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What a wild ride. I always send out a little prayer into the universe, to whoever is listening (probably nothing and nobody) but I do it anyway, hoping for a chill shift. Hoping there’s no one in restraints, a million admits, crazy vitals, and the like. But it has been an interesting and intense shift.
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I’ve been visiting my mother at my house daily after work. Subtly stressing how time is rushing by and my move in is fast approaching. We drink a few mimosas. Sometimes I order some breakfast. She looks like hell. So much smoking and drinking. She doesn’t attend to hygiene well, making excuses about being forced
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I had two appointments Friday. I work so much so I often set appointments all in one day. Friday it was seeing my supported employment case manager and seeing my meds prescriber. I saw my prescriber first. He asked about how I’m tolerating them and was I having any side effects or other issues. He
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Every time I drive to work, I have to drive by the mental hospital. In the beginning, this was a major trigger for me and required I sit for a minute and let the panic dissipate before heading in. So many flashbacks and so much anxiety. Now I drive by and try to reframe it
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The AC is down at work. Everyone is sweltering. Except for a few cold vets who still ask for warm blankets at night. I don’t mind the heat. It feels nice to me. I have negative associations with the cold, and it reminds me of sterile hospital environments, the psych ward AC chill, and growing
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I can’t slow down my mind. The anxiety is absolutely palpable. The light fixture is installed and my desk moved into place. My mother bitched about the flooring restoration and all kinds of other things while I was there the last few days. I try to let it roll off me but the truth is,
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 