voices
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“The universe knows. You’re a good person.” No. The universe doesn’t know of our existence. The universe doesn’t care about our existence even if it could know. Justice is not inherent to anything. According to biocentrism, the universe and all within it might not exist at all till it is observed, similar to the results
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I started to write. Frantic, hurried writing, as though my memory had an expiration date and it was fast approaching. As though I were making up for lost time. And in a way, I was. A few days into my detainment, psych ward staff gave me a notebook to use as a journal. I wrote
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My 7th night saw me pass out shortly after meds, practically asleep before my head hit the pillow. I pieced together my episodes of sleepwalking from medical records, chart notes, and verbal reports. That night I actually got up and started walking around my room. I went out and headed straight for the main doors.
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My fourth, maybe fifth, day in the hospital came. The meds had slowed me down significantly. I was pacing less, groggy and sedated. I suppose that was the goal, get me to slow down a little. I was hearing the voice less but he did still pop into my head to remind me I was
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When I was released from the mental hospital last month, it was with the understanding I would be enrolled in intensive outpatient treatment to maintain and continue learning coping strategies, distress tolerance, and better impulse control, among other things. I had my assessment through the mental hospital’s IOP program on Thursday, which lasted over two
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I had been in the acute care psych unit – a smaller 8 bed unit for acute crisis cases – three days. My 5-day hold was nearly up, and you guessed it – the doctor petitioned up to two weeks. I paced nervously in my room, slowly descending deeper into madness. I conversed with the
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I woke up slowly, wrapped in blankets up to my neck. I blinked and looked around and tried to roll over. This took monumental effort, and I didn’t get very far. I tried looking around. The room was spinning, and I moaned – the room was bare, white, small, and empty save the bed I
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“They’ll never let you go.” My eyes flew open at the voice. No one was in the room. My head was throbbing and I was confused, not remembering where I’d been taken the day before and where I was. “You will be their guinea pig. They’re going to experiment on you,” the ominous voice said
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I have tried to keep busy. Yesterday I saw my supported employment case manager for the first time since before my recent detainment. He is still rather new to me, but I’ve been involved in the supported employment program at the VA for over 10 years now. They helped me get the job I have,
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 