I'm so sad.
I'm not ready to navigate the murky waters of the mental health system. I don't want to sort out all the questions and miconceptions. I just want some goddamn help.
That's a pipedream if I ever heard one, so here goes:
YES, I am going to have some seperation issues about the end of Day Hospital.
NO, this depression is not a result of seperation issues.
HEY! I need to tell you people that I need help getting through to the tough stuff and the stuff I get through to on my own needs to be addressed instead of charted and poked away until the next appointment.
I don't know...I don't feel like fighting my way through to any actual help. It's hard enough just asking for it.
Monday, June 30, 2008
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Where am I?
I feel lost again. Adrift.
Today PTDHSW, (I refuse to use names for short-term workers outside of treatment!) took me to check out the Triangle Program. I was really scared, so when I got to the station where I was supposed to meet him I sat down and started writing non-stop.
Writing does you no good when all you write is, "So so scared. Breathe. Why Scared? AUGH!"
Yes, I love to talk. I never bought into the secret-keeping thing that is inherent with my culture. Okay, so I lied to my doctor for the first year I was in treatment. I wasn't desperate enough to spill my suicidality to her! But once I hit rock bottom I sang like a canary and I haven't stopped. There are exceptions to my open nature. I don't like phones. Often I don't have the energy to breathe, let alone speak, and I always stutter more on the phone. I don't like strangers either.
So when PTDHSW said something like, "you do the talking and I'll jump in" he was surprised that I said, "NO! I don't like talking!!!" I'm a regular chatterbug in Day Hospital. That was okay though because he did just the right amount of talking, and I managed to resist clutching his sleeve in terror. Hooray for me...
He walked in. I scuttled. They told us about the program, emphasized on the self-directed piece which is obviously not new to me. I don't know...I missed a lot of it because I was trying very hard to stay there, firmly on the ground.
They kept talking about my credit counselling summary, how my grades are good and stuff and it felt like such a lie. I get good grades but I don't finish anything and then I ended up saying that and getting all mixed up... "I get good grades but I spend a lot of time staring at my books...and then I found out it wasn't staring and it was like hours textbooks time."
Thank God PTDHSW jumped in, but then I almost floated away just thinking about how floaty I was already and how awkward it would be to dissociate where people would notice, (as opposed to at Ward or at home) and have to get me to return to some semblance of consciousness.
That was kind of a shocker. I know I get lots of attention from workers, but to think of someone else actually noticing that I was in a different world... it's just weird.
To Remember: Meerkats are so tall and their heads are so small, it's like they're slinkys on the inside. I love slinkys, but not inside animals! Except if it's a weiner dog. Then it's okay.
Today PTDHSW, (I refuse to use names for short-term workers outside of treatment!) took me to check out the Triangle Program. I was really scared, so when I got to the station where I was supposed to meet him I sat down and started writing non-stop.
Writing does you no good when all you write is, "So so scared. Breathe. Why Scared? AUGH!"
Yes, I love to talk. I never bought into the secret-keeping thing that is inherent with my culture. Okay, so I lied to my doctor for the first year I was in treatment. I wasn't desperate enough to spill my suicidality to her! But once I hit rock bottom I sang like a canary and I haven't stopped. There are exceptions to my open nature. I don't like phones. Often I don't have the energy to breathe, let alone speak, and I always stutter more on the phone. I don't like strangers either.
So when PTDHSW said something like, "you do the talking and I'll jump in" he was surprised that I said, "NO! I don't like talking!!!" I'm a regular chatterbug in Day Hospital. That was okay though because he did just the right amount of talking, and I managed to resist clutching his sleeve in terror. Hooray for me...
He walked in. I scuttled. They told us about the program, emphasized on the self-directed piece which is obviously not new to me. I don't know...I missed a lot of it because I was trying very hard to stay there, firmly on the ground.
They kept talking about my credit counselling summary, how my grades are good and stuff and it felt like such a lie. I get good grades but I don't finish anything and then I ended up saying that and getting all mixed up... "I get good grades but I spend a lot of time staring at my books...and then I found out it wasn't staring and it was like hours textbooks time."
Thank God PTDHSW jumped in, but then I almost floated away just thinking about how floaty I was already and how awkward it would be to dissociate where people would notice, (as opposed to at Ward or at home) and have to get me to return to some semblance of consciousness.
That was kind of a shocker. I know I get lots of attention from workers, but to think of someone else actually noticing that I was in a different world... it's just weird.
To Remember: Meerkats are so tall and their heads are so small, it's like they're slinkys on the inside. I love slinkys, but not inside animals! Except if it's a weiner dog. Then it's okay.
