Yup… That is what I am doing today. I’ve got a couple job interviews and I’m doing a bit of spring cleaning. So, nothing fun. One of the interviews is going to be a ride along for a paper route. I’m really hoping to get that job so I can maybe do the route on my bike.
I have been bike 20 miles every day lately. I have been loving it. It’s good distraction from life because it doesn’t cost anything to do. I don’t have to worry about gas, just if I am hydrating enough. The only thing is that I can’t find the leash attachment to my bike, so I can’t take Noble with me. I’m thinking that I could just make a leash that will work till I can afford another one.
Other than the interviews, bike riding, and cleaning, I haven’t been doing much. I am still recovering from my most recent overdose. It has nearly destroyed my kidneys and damaged my liver. So, I’m having weekly blood draws to check my liver and kidney functions. Yippee… My arms are all bruised up because of how many blood draws I’ve had…
It has been a crazy long time since I’ve last posted. I have not been doing very well. I have been in and out of the hospital for the past three months. I made several attempts and got a bogus diagnoses. That diagnoses then sent into suicidal thoughts, which I followed through with.
Now I have damaged relationships to fix and have no idea how to do so. How am I supposed to deal with other people’s feelings when I don’t even understand my own. My therapist is pretty sure I’m bipolar and have BPD (Borderline Personality Disorder).
This post will probably be a short one. I need to get my thoughts together. I’m a little flighty and I’m actually surprised I sat down and wrote a post. Anyways… Bear with me. I’m trying to get back to my routine.
On my first day of being at the State Hospital, I met with a lot of doctors. They do a full medical work up when you first come to make sure you’re physically healthy. The docs soon learned I was a difficult case. My TBI proved to be a complication in my mental health treatment… Yippee…
It was a lot of trial and error on finding the correct treatment, but eventually found one that kind of worked. The psych doc changed all my meds and upped them of couple times. I spent the first four days hiding out in my room. I had four of my episodes my first night, so my mattress was on the floor. Not very comfy.
The only reason I did come out was because a fellow peer dragged me out of my room. I’m an introvert and she is an extrovert, so we worked perfectly together. She talked and I listened. It may not seem like that is much of a change, but it got me out of my dark room and out among people.
I didn’t converse with anyone but my new friend, D. She of course talked with everybody, so I just kind of became her shadow and observed. Eventually, I became comfortable enough to make small talk with a couple new people. I hate small talk, so that took a lot for me to do.
It’s amazing how sane places like that can make you seem. There were quite a few delusional people who thought they were in the FBI, or whatever. But the craziest thing was that other people were actually believing their stories. That lead to complications in the gullible patients because they became convinced that the hospital was just a safe house. They believed they were in a safe house because the patient that claimed to be FBI, said they were just getting paperwork ready for witness protection for all of us.
Oh my gosh… I couldn’t help but laugh to myself…
Please help me out financially with my medical bills HERE. If you want to know how Noble’s training is going, follow my blog Noble Devotion.
Tomorrow is my first day back at work. I’m worrying about it of course, but I am itching to get back to work. To feel the exhaustion and sore muscles after hard day’s work. There is nothing like it… And I love it.
My employers are awesome and extremely supportive, so I’m not too worried about being picked on for taking two and a half weeks off work. I am worried about the questions about why I was in the hospital. But I’ve got vague answers figured out that will hopefully satisfy them.
I finally have my routine sorted out again, which brings me to another topic. While I was in the hospital, I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD). That is why I have to have my day planned down to the minute and can’t be changed. If it does get changed, I have a panic attack.
They also believe that I am on autism spectrum. I don’t think I am, but apparently I show a lot of signs. OCD being one of them. I’m not quite sure how I feel about that, but I haven’t been diagnosed with it so I don’t have to worry. Yet…
It’s not that I don’t want to be diagnosed autistic, but rather it would bring a whole view of myself. I don’t think I can handle one more thing to cope with right now. I don’t think I am severely autistic, but it would make sense why I have issues in social settings. Maybe it’s not just my anxiety. Maybe the anxiety is caused by the autism.
Anyways, I just wanted to get some things off my chest before I tried to sleep. Most likely I will be laying awake all night with my racing thoughts. I will try to sleep nevertheless. So… Goodnight everybody!
I am currently sitting in a coffee shop waiting for it to be time to go to my follow up appointment. I am absolutely terrified. My appointment is at this institution for mental health, and I don’t know what to expect. I’m not sure what this appointment entails.
I know it will be a lot of paperwork, but I’m not sure if I am just going to get accepted into the program or what. I am not bringing Noble because he will be just one more stressor. Ugh… I hate it when you get so anxious that you get physically uncomfortable.
I wish I could do a test run so that I know what to expect. Life would be so much easier ifwe could have test runs. But life has to be difficult, so we don’t get test runs. It’s stupid, but true. All I have been doing the past couple days is sleeping and moving.
My family just moved to a new house, so I am very slowly moving mystuff to the new place. My energy is drained so easily these days. A shower is so exhausting that I sleep for three hours afterwards (Which leaves me with bed head).
I’m probably just rambling now. I will let you guys know how everything goes.
Yup… I was hospitalized again after 2 years of… Coping. I was extremely suicidal
and made an appointment with my primary doc. Next thing I know, I’m having multiple seizures and admitted to the hospital. I was in the local hospital for a day, and then shipped two hours away to a psychiatric hospital.
I have been there for the past ten days. Most people think that being in a psychiatric ward is hell and that they would do anything to not be sent there. But I needed to be there, and it actually helped me get better. I slept for three days straight and then I hid from the other patients for four days.
I finally came out and ate a meal with a fellow human, and I actually enjoyed the interaction. Before I knew it, I was putting a puzzle together with a vetran, hippie, fellow teen, and a mama. We laughed and made fun of eachother, and helping eachother make it in that place.
Sadly, I only got to hang with them for two days before I was discharged. I am
actually greiveing their company. You have a special bond with the people you meet in there because they know exactly what you’re going through. We are all in the same boat.
Anyways, I haven’t been posting because I haven’t had any access to a computer… Or Wifi. Now I’m back and I will have plenty to write about. I have to take some more time off work to figure out where to go from here.
Warning: This post may be triggering for some people…
I love blankets. Growing up, my grandma always made us a quilt every couple years for our birthdays. I love blankets because they hold so much memory and meaning, especially when they were a gift. I have blankets from two of my friends and whenever I wrap myself up in them, I feel as if they are giving me a hug.
My grandma’s most recent quilt she made me, was given to me a few years ago. I don’t ever use it, and I think she is a bit offended by it. The thing is that the blanket holds bad memories for me. She gave it to me when I was admitted to the psych ward and then transferred to the surgical ward when they discovered I was malnourished.
I can’t even handle looking at it without the terrible feelings and memories that are linked to it, rush back. That year was hell for me. I will probably never forget it. The year before I was admitted, was spent trying to get a diagnoses for my seizures. I spent more of my time getting multiple EEGs, than I did at school.
After I was finally diagnosed with non electro graphic seizures, I was sent into a rapid spiral down to severe depression. People kept telling me that I can’t control my seizures and that it’s not my fault. Then I would have one and I remember waking to my parents or other family members discussing how angry they were that I kept having them. My dad being the worst culprit for telling me that I was faking it.
Every negative thing just sent me deeper and deeper into the depression, until I just had enough. I began planning and preparing for my exit from this world. Two years ago today, I was going to kill myself. I was saying goodbye to a friend and before I knew it, my mom was in my room. Reading my will and scolding me for ever thinking of committing suicide.
I was admitted to the hospital the next day and sent to the psych ward. I woke up the next morning, after being admitted to the psych ward, in the emergency room. I had had another one of my seizures during the night and the on call Doctor wanted to get me an EEG. He didn’t believe that it was a non electro graphic seizure. He said it looked too real.
So, I was sent to get another EEG taken that revealed it was indeed one of my usual seizures. I was then sent back to the ward to sleep, and I woke up again in the emergency room because of a high temperature of 103 degrees Fahrenheit. They ran tests and discovered I hadn’t eaten in nine days.
I was the. Sent to the surgical ward to get weened off the migraine medication that caused my loss of appetite, and to get a feeding tube inserted. That is where I met J and his service dog, Grace. That is when I got the blanket. My grandma laid the blanket on my hospital bed and looked at me with disappointment.
That is when the guilt and shame began. That look is all I see when my grandma looks at me. Disappointment. So, I don’t use the blanket that holds all that shame, guilt, disappointment, and painful memories. I know that is all my family sees in me anymore, and it really hurts. I gave up. I couldn’t keep strong.