Day 2: January 15, 2015

(This is part of a series of writings I made while in the hospital recently, originally written January 15. Read the introduction post in this category for more background information.)

I feel a bit better today, what a thing sleep can do. I feel a bit more clear headed, yesterday I actually wasn’t sure why I was even here. I am still very scared though, no one wants me to go back to like with J and A, but I don’t know where I’m going to go from herr. I overheard some social worker talk to someone about placing them in Camden, I really don’t want to end up in Camden. Maybe I’m just seeing too much into this.

What should my goal be for today? I’ve slept a lot yesterday so I’m trying to sleep less today.

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Meet Laura

(Laura found my request for guest bloggers on twitter, I asked her to introduce herself…)

A little introduction about myself: My name is Laura and I live in Oregon. I am a Preschool Teacher by day but by night, I’m a complete emotional mess. Struggle isn’t even a strong enough word for it but it seems that I’m struggling constantly.

My life got turned upside down once I was in Oregon for a few months. Back when I was living in Pennsylvania, the Psychologist that I saw diagnosed me as Major Depressive Disorder and Anorexia. That’s what she thought so that’s what I thought. Although, I always felt as if something else was wrong. I started seeing a therapist in Oregon and during the very first session, she told me I was bipolar. Oh my god! I knew she was completely right. She also said I had PTSD (because, at that time, I was getting memories come to the surface of sexual abuse from my father). This therapist encouraged me to get a doctor who could give me the right medication.

So now, after years of living with the wrong diagnoses, I was ready to get the right help for the new diagnoses. Bipolar (mixed episodes and rapid cycling), complex PTSD, anxiety, and Borderline Personality Disorder. I’m not sure I always agree with the BPD but I definitely think I have a lot of the symptoms.

Mental illness is a bitch. To me, it feels like this huge weight that I have to bear and will never get any relief. Most of the time, I am super depressed and suicidal but also extremely agitated and irritated. It’s been a couple years since my last suicidal attempt and 5 years since my almost fatal attempt. I guess what I’m trying to say is that things are definitely better than they were years ago. I got the correct diagnoses almost 6 years ago. It’s been a very long and draining fight to live but it is slowly getting there, usually. The correct meds, dr appointments, blood work, $$$$. It’s all too much sometimes so that’s why I decided to write this post and hopefully find a new coping skill that will help.

Missing My Friend MANIA

Every Friday I’m going to feature a guest blogger or a interesting blog post I come across, this week, an interesting look at mania.

Truth and Grace

Started my new meds.  My Pysch progress report would read, “Mania is gone and by all measures depression seems to have lifted”. This is progress and I should be happy, the medication has shown some success in balancing out my life. But, I miss my mania.   I say MY mania, because I imagine to each person there’s something independentlypersonal about it.

I miss my mania because she came unexpected, crept into my life with her new perspective, different from the old drudge of depression. She brought with herenergy.

I finally had the physical energy to formulate an exercise plan so I could achieve my long time goal of getting back into shape and losing weight. Every day I worked out for at least an hour, sometimes longer as I pumped music and lost track of time, lost myself to this new discipline.

Mania replaced…

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Day 1: January 14, 2015

(This is part of a series of writings I made while in the hospital recently, originally written January 14. Read the introduction post in this category for more background information.)

The past few hours have been a little blurry but I know one thing for sure, something has to change. Going into this I was sure that I could co-habitats with Sarah. I was wrong, the resent and anger got the best of me last night and got me admitted. I’m not sure exactly what I did to get me here but I got admitted. What bothers me right now is exactly how I got here and the fact that I don’t think I can go back home with her there, and what gets me even worse is that he doesn’t feel he has any part in what happened between us. I don’t like it here. I guess no one really would. I feel like I have to constantly look over my shoulder. I only slept like 3 hours last night and didn’t have much for breakfast, it’s gonna be a long day.

Upcoming blog posts

I will be starting to post my writings from when I spent about six weeks in the hospital (Jan 16-Feb 26) but first some notes:

I’m gonna post them as I wrote them, curse words and all so a lot of it might not make sense.

Names will be changed to protect mainly me.

I did not post every day

Before anyone asks, I am feeling “somewhat” better after my discharge, I still have bad days.

Constructive or positive comments are appreciated, all others will not be approved.

All posts will have the category and tag “hospital” without quotes.

Thank you in advance for reading.

Where was I?

Now that I’m somewhat settled in to my new place let me update you to what happened and why I was gone so long….

On January 13th I had for lacking the proper words a nervous breakdown. After the ongoing ordeal with my soon to be ex wife I have had enough, I wanted to die and take her with me. In a rush i fled the house, not telling her where I was going. The thought of crashing my car into the lake crossed my mind, but there was something in the back of me head telling me to run for help. Needless to say I ended up in an emergency room not really knowing what was going on. The severity of my situation didn’t occur to me until after the first full day on the psych floor.

In the six weeks I spent in two separate hospitals I lost everything, my wife, my girlfriend (we were separated at the time), my job, my home, and my car. I felt that in some part my wife was to blame.

I’m out now since Thursday, I’ve found someplace else to live and getting continued treatment for my bipolar disorder and ICMS caseworker to keep me out of the hospital. I’m talking with a former girlfriend from almost ten years ago. I think my life is starting to look up. I still get major anxiety and thoughts of my past (flashbacks I guess), but I’m trying to work thru it. I did write throughout my hospital stay and will post them here as time allows. I’m gonna get thru this, one moment at a time.