Just Want To Sleep…

Today… I am writing because I am bored out of my mind. I am staying at my grandparent’s to build a prototypeof a business idea I have. I am here till tuesday and running out of things to do. I have almost completed the skeleton of my idea, but have to wait on some parts in order to continue.

I have kept this idea stored in my mind for so long, I don’t want to stop. I am actually seeing it work out. I have pitched my business plan to a couple people and they all really liked it. I am getting a lot of support now and help to make it come to life.

I thought my business plan was one of those that you keep thinking about, but never get around to doing. Boy was I wrong. When I first started, I had no idea how I was gonna start. It’s like me and sketching…

It takes me so long to actually get started, that I eventually forget and never do it. I was challenged by a relative to follow through with my plan and to see what happens. So far, I am so excited to start getting it manufactured. It will probably take me a while before I can because I have to get some sort of patent.

I don’t know how long that takes… I’m really praying it goes quickly. I have thought about selling my idea to get the money up front, but decided to sell it myself. I have plans for the money that I will make from it. For a good cause, mind you.


Noble is still hard at work…

I have already taken my night meds about four hours ago, but they aren’t working
yet. Sometimes my mind is running so fast, that it overpowers the meds. Hate it when it happens, but it happens. That’s when I’m left staring blankly at a wall thinking about… Everything.

Tonight, though, I decided to put my mind to work and do some blogging. I apologize for the lack of posts. The past couple months, I have been in and out of hospitals for multiple reasons. Anyways, thought I might let you know I’m not dead… Good thing, too.



I am still really struggling… It appears that I’ve been released from the State Hospital too soon. I have relapsed. I went to my second doctor’s appointment and ended up having one of my episodes. In my delirium afterwards, I had confessed my plans to commit suicide again. So, I was sent to the ER once again Monday afternoon.

The good thing is that Noble was there, so everybody got to see him in action. The sad thing is, they got to see him in action… Apparently they didn’t let him do exactly what he was supposed to until Papa came. He then just let him go. He did exactly what he was supposed to do. He gave me Deep Pressure Therapy and then licked my face until I came to. I was so tickled to hear that.

Anyways, I was admitted to what is called the Hope House. It’s a short-term live in facility for people who are suicidal. I was told that I wouldn’t be allowed to because my conversion disorder is considered medical. They don’t have medical staff at the Hope House. The crisis evaluator ended up setting it up to get me into the Hope House.

Sure enough, I had three episodes the next morning, and they sent me to the ER. Very frustrating to wake up in the ER with two IVs, and people yelling at me to stay awake when I so badly want to sleep. They apparently called my mom to let her know I was in the ER and my mom chewed them out. My seizures don’t cause brain damage, so I don’t need to go to the ER after every one.

They got the message after that and I had some more seizures the next day. I didn’t end up in the ER. Yay! I was actually getting really frustrated because it took three days for me to be seen by one person. Wednesday was a really bad day. U was struggling with suicidal thoughts. No fun.

Then, I had another episode last night and I fell out of a chair. My episode only lasted 5 minutes instead of 15, but I ended up getting a concussion when I fell. I am always pretty confused after my episodes, but I never remember the confusion. This time though, I was so confused. It was scary. I ended up in another seizure after that.

I didn’t come back from the ER until 11 PM last night, and staff had me sleep on the couch so that they could keep an eye on me. I didn’t sleep very well, so I’m probably gonna go back to bed. In my room this time on a bed… I will probably take some Klonopin to help me sleep and with the anxiety.

Committed (Part One)

You have probably guessed by my previous post that I have been in the hospital for the past month. After being released in March, I went back after near attempt at suicide again. I packed up all my things and drove the two hours to the psych hospital.

After being in the psych unit for a week, I was not getting any better. I continued to isolate and still had the urge to kill myself. That was when my provider and I decided that the best option was for me to be committed to the state hospital. I was at peace with that decision and had to go to court before I was sent off in handcuffs to the hospital.

I was absolutely terrified of what it would be like. You here a lot of horror stories about the state hospital in the psych unit. There was one patient in the psych unit that prepared me for what it was really like. She even gave me her contact information to call her if I got scared or confused. I was so touched.

Once I arrived at the hospital, I got entered into the system, showered, and walked up to the unit I would be in. When I first walked in, I realized that it was no different from the psych unit (It was actually a little better). There were two TVs with couches and tables. Our rooms had a sink, and a closet with a desk attached to the wall. The beds were so comfy and you could open your window.

They brought me something to eat since I arrived at 8pm. Their food was terrible, but still edible. When you were really hungry, the food was a delicacy (Not that rare of an occurance). They gave me my meds through a little window in the med room door. I thought it was actually kind fun (I’m weird that way).

The best part was that you could turn off all your lights. In the psych unit, they had a “night-light” in the rooms that were more like an artificial sun. I must have the room dark in order to sleep, so I was able to get another hour or two of sleep that night…

Please help contribute to my fundraiser by clicking Here. All contributions and shares are greatly appreciated.

The Bad Stuff…

I promised to fill you guys in on the bad stuff going on today, so here goes… 

The majority of it is finances. The cost to stay in the psych hospital in $10,000 a day and I was there for ten days with two ER trips and an EEG. So I have some pretty big bills coming my way. I had my social working on getting me some health insurance, but just found out I don’t qualify for any that she can find. Stupid.

Now I have started the process of finding and applying to health insurance companies that I can find. So, in swamped with paperwork. While I was about to print some crucial information for my applications, our printer crashed. Now I have to find some way to finish the application before time runs out.

I am still looking for a place of my own, so I have been picking up even more applications for the past couple weeks. The only thing is that I have to get Noble licensed by the city. I didn’t know I had to. I went online to get him licensed, but turns out that my town still uses snail mail. I sent his paperwork out today, but it will probably be a while.

It is way past my bedtime, so I’m gonna leave it at that and call it a night. I will pick up where I left off on Thursday. 

First Solo Doctor’s Appointment

Well… yesterday I was in a really bad place. I had suicidal thoughts and I knew I needed help. So, I called my doctor and scheduled an appointment. She sensed the urgency and scheduled me for today. I called my boss and he said he was cool with me leaving early.

I didn’t sleep at all last night. I might have gotten an hour but that’s it. I was anxious about how my parents would react and how the appointment would go. Every time I mention how I’m feeling with my mom, she either blames it on hormones or gets mad at me. So I chose to not tell anybody. I don’t have to tell anybody because I’m eighteen.

The morning at work went by really fast and I was making myself sicker and sicker as the day went on. We ended up spraying white primer again, so I was a mess. I hurried home, changed, and scraped most of the paint off my face. I grabbed all my belongings and ran out the door.

Me after spraying…

I got to the clinic early and walked my shaky self up to the third floor. I do not have good memories of the place and the smell sent me nearly over the edge. I went to the front desk and I sat down to wait when the nurse came in to take me back. She was refreshingly cheerful, and chatted me up and down the wall before she asked details on my visit.

After we talked, she took my blood pressure and said, “You don’t like being in here do you?” Turns out my blood pressure was high and it seemed to have proven my anxiety. I waited a bit and soaked my shirt with sweat in anticipation. 

I was afraid that she would think I was lying or something because my mom wasn’t with me. But it turned out quite differently. She understood my reservations to trust my parents and took me off my parents’ file and into my own. She said that some people just can’t grasp the fact that anxiety is as hard to control as leukemia. 

I finally got myself started on prescription and will finally be getting some help with my migraines. We discovered that I am having panic attacks whenever I go to work. My doctor said that she thinks my depression is caused by my battle with anxiety and that we should get that figured out and see where to go from there. She also gave me resources for if I’m ever in crisis. 

I told my parents that I went to the doctor when I got home. They were both angry. There is just no way to please them. They didn’t have to pay for anything or go out of their way for me. Ugh…

Nevertheless, I am very proud of myself. I didn’t think I was gonna be able to do it. I’m glad I did reach out. I knew that I was gonna do something if I didn’t. My doctor was very glad too. She could tell that I was struggling.

The story of this rock…

If you ever see me, I will have this rock. Either in my pocket or in my hand. I am never ever without it. People give me strange looks when they find me fidgeting with a rock, and I want to tell its story.

On September 2nd, 2014, I had been in IPC for four days. My doctor, Dr. Blodgett, sat down with me in his office and we were chatting about what I am going to do today. This was the second time I have seen Dr. Blood get, the first time was when I was in the surgical ward for malnutrition. During the first stay, we had gotten to talk about my likes and dislikes and so on. One of the things I mentioned was that I absolutely adore petrified wood.

So, while we were chatting in his office, he reached into his bag and pulled out this rock. He said that his wife collects rocks and gave this one to me to keep. She had found it thirty years ago and it was rock tumbled through the river. Which means the rock was naturally polished and in its true form. He let me touch it and gave it to me when I was released from IPC.

Since then, it has been very dear to my heart. It is kind of like my lucky charm or my worry stone as my great grandfather would call them. I take it every where with me and I hold it in my hand when I am anxious or stressed. I love it. I don’t know if this interests you, but I find it helps to bring my anxiety down. Which I will do anything that helps.