mental illness
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I’m trying to use coping skills. The little dumb ones, like listening to music, especially during triggers and stress. Writing. You think this blog is cringe? Should see my paper journal. I use grounding when I dissociate – what can I feel? See? Hear? This involves a bit of mindfulness, and I am not always…
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Not as paranoid as I was. It felt, for a minute, like I was being watched. I still think old powers are at play, that never left. Maybe I’m being successful in my desire to stay out of any radar. I’m trying to maintain my momentum. I have started my third accelerated quarter, biostatistics and…
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I don’t feel very good and I feel bad for feeling bad. I’m thinking a lot about my psych meds. The first group I had to attend my very first morning in the mental hospital last year was about “making the most of your psychiatric medications.” How to take them every day without fail no…
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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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I’ve been reading a book popular in psychology circles and recommended to me by numerous doctors and therapists. The Body Keeps the Score, by Bessel Van Der Kolk. It’s thick and complicated and right up my alley. Triggering, too. He’s talking about the patients in psych wards and hospitals in which he’s worked. Talking about…
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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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I really need a haircut. It’s grown past my eyes and to my shoulders, almost. The 20th anniversary of Rob Zombie’s The Devil’s Rejects is Monday and is playing in certain theaters as s special screening event. I’m not going to work; I am going to go see it. That movie goes hard and is…
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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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This is so fucked up. The flashbacks won’t stop. Even in my dreams. Surreal nightmares of being locked up, tied down, and screaming in fear and despair. I am spared the horrible task of sitting with a suicidal patient tonight. I am often spared because some of my coworkers know my history. I can’t even…
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 