hospital
-
I started this blog a year ago today. Hard to believe a year has passed since I had a violent and devastating mental break from reality and tried to kill myself, ending up hauled into the hospital by police. I felt the need, later, to write it all down. The aftermath was intense as well.
-
Don’t look. Don’t look at the mental hospital. Don’t look at the signs in Sacred Heart pointing down the hall to the psych unit. Every fucking day, triggers and flashbacks. Even flashbacks of the future. I take my meds religiously. But my sleep meds are quickly losing their power. Even the Ativan is just not
-
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
-
I feel like a fool sometimes. Taking on grad school, taking on this other job, moving back into my house. Everything compounds. Everything is a lot. And I have so many intrusive thoughts and feelings. This job. I don’t really need it, but I want it. A sick part of me insists on the exposure
-
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
-
A year ago today, the cops hauled me out of my apartment, and I was locked up in a mental hospital for a couple weeks. To this day, I still have flashbacks, a lot of anxiety around it, shame around it. I left that apartment and have moved back into my house. Living with my
-
I’ve completed nearly a week of grad school. The program is public health and is accelerated. So far it has been research practice, reading and writing. I’ve spent time scouring scholarly journals as I have total access to all of them. I’ve taken part in class discussions – conducted online of course – and I’m
-
What a painful night. For some reason, nightmares during the day. At work I’m exhausted and surrounded by screaming patients, patients in restraints, staff who need too much from me, and haunted by memories. I’ve tried to focus on work, to distract, anything. The memories come unbidden, untriggered, and then they are exacerbated by that
-
A lot of firsts this week. A first week at work back at my house. A first night back at Sacred Heart with a new commute. I drove by the mental hospital as there is no avoiding it and forced myself not to look. Every time, I have to force myself not to look. It’s
-
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
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 