writing
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Tomorrow is Veterans Day, and though I have IOP and work, I’m going to spend a little time at the VA after IOP for the Veterans Drive Thru Stand Down. It’s a yearly event. There’s sometimes speakers, depending on the weather. They give out food, lunch, resources, and just spend the few hours hanging out.…
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There is a kind of sadness that comes from knowing too much, from seeing the world as it truly is. It is the sadness of understanding that life is not a grand adventure, but a series of small, insignificant moments; that love is not a fairy tale, but a fragile, fleeting emotion; that happiness is…
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I am in recovery. That is what the doctors say, the IOP therapist. They say it can take time to recover from a mental health crisis. I should know this, I’ve had severe crises in the past and barely survived some of them. But sometimes I’m not sure what recovery even means. Does it mean…
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I could not sleep today. I take the meds, I make a bedtime ritual, I try hot showers and meditation and even masturbation but today I could not sleep. When I finally did, I had terrible dreams. I take a medication, prazosin, for bad dreams but it can only do so much. Pills only pack…
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“How are you doing?” “I’m good, I’m good. I called my brother; I need his help. I can’t do it alone anymore. I don’t know what I’m going to do about my living situation. I want to move out. I think I’ll move out.” “How about the meds, any side effects?” “Just from that artane…
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My first few days in the hospital passed in a blur, a fog of medication adjustments, sluggish pacing, and intermittent crying. I felt most suicidal, yet safe. At least that’s what I reported in my daily nursing assessments. It’s a strange juxtaposition of feeling – that given the chance, I would kill myself, yet in…
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I visited my mother today. At my house. I am not living there. She was drunk. She is often drunk. And I just brought her more. More rum, more cigarettes. I visit at least every Saturday with another load of both. She’s been a smoker since she was a teenager. She’s a broke penniless widow…
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Sometimes all you can hang onto are the little things. I got up early despite my meds making me feel a little groggy. I went to bed at 1am and actually slept until 8am, only waking up twice in the night, but able to fall back asleep. This new sleeping med, Lunesta, is helping. I…
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I still remember quite clearly my first morning in the hospital. I woke up after restless, fitful sleep, in which I was frequently startled awake by room checks. I just wanted coffee, so I went to the dining room. The kitchen would bring a large carafe of coffee in the mornings and it would be…
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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…
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 