grad school
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I am a man who feels more stable under routine conditions: I develop routines for my day, my week, for grad school and work and I apply these routines to the smallest things like what clothes I wear or how I arrange my house. I have always been into a routine. Or sought to develop
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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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So sensitive to noise. Every crash and bang startles me. Reminds me of the mental hospital, all the cacophony and slamming of doors. But I’m getting through it. The meds deaden my response. I’m not cycling so hard. I have short lived mood swings, especially if I miss my meds even one day. That did
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Things are bad at home. There was a fight…and I’m not sorry but I still feel like shit. I never called names, I felt instead like I was defending myself. But she’s so good at positioning herself as the victim and me some kind of evil abuser. Who knows, maybe I am. And I don’t
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I am ahead of schedule in my grad school studies. I’ve written and read a lot, mostly. My mind is otherwise blank. I’ve thought of everything and nothing. I reordered my meds. The bursts of energy followed by sluggish melancholy adds a bizarre dimension to everyday existence. My back itches and tingles. It is healing
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Putting on my watch. The color of rust. New triggers that aren’t new. I have to live with it. My watch always reminds me of the restraints. It’s so dumb. The color of rust is the color of the scrubs for elopement risk patients at work when they’re on med surg. It’s a new thing.
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I suppose I see myself as some sort of renaissance man, an eccentric philosopher. I’m a regular Jean Paul Sartre, who argued life is an unwelcome interruption to a peaceful nonexistence. I’m not suicidal right now, but even in manic moments I am reminded of what a dark burden life can be. Everything has to
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I’m feeling pretty good. I get so much done. I ran around all morning. I don’t need as much sleep as other people. I’m thinking of another book. Some kind of sequel. I dropped 1000 dollars on a cruise next year, in June. It’s a land and cruise tour. The land portion is 4 days;
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My brain is churning with thoughts. I have an internal monologue; talking to myself but not out loud. I converse with the voices in my head silently. I’ve finished the first quarter of grad school. Mostly – I talk to one of the teachers in the morning to get more guidance on the eportfolio. Turns
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My mind is a swirling mess, so many anxious thoughts and visions of the future. So many triggers in my world despite my best efforts to mitigate them, to manage them, and use the therapy, so much therapy. When I want to sleep, I’m wide awake. I take the Gabapentin, Vistaril, Melatonin, sometimes Ativan. Force
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 