mental hospital
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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
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I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. I woke up late and had to rush to work late. I barely got a cup of coffee in me! Haven’t slept much, or eaten much, in several days. I think I will sleep okay today. With meds. There is one nurse that falls
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As I sit with a schizophrenic patient in the same locking restraints in which I found myself not that long ago, I feel a tiredness I haven’t felt in a long time. To be sure, I didn’t think I could do this, I really didn’t. I’m still not sure how I am, other than white
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People started coming in to my tiny psych holding cell. First someone who said they were a social worker. Asked me about family, mental health history, substance use history. Asked if I wanted to kill myself. I did not really engage with her. She informed me I was detained while awaiting a designated crisis responder,
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 