IOP
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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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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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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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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 am absolutely plagued with flashbacks. I pull out everything in my arsenal…distraction, meditation, medication, music, writing, reading…I can’t concentrate on a movie. I tried, but I keep losing focus. It’s driving me crazy. Work is a heavy stressor. There are a lot of politics going on, and bickering among staff, and poor management. Yet
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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
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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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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 am at a loss on what to say. I’ve felt a powerful sense of blankness and loss of feeling. I’m like a mannequin, or robot. Didn’t make it to work last night. Too much going on, house stuff, work, family stress… I spent most of the day at the house supervising a housecleaner who
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My house is really coming together. The restored hardwood looks amazing. It even smells good. He still has to add transitions – built in wood “lips” at the transitions from the hall to the bathroom and the hall to the kitchen. Then I’ll be adding the trim – that I already have because I bought
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 