I am in an incredibly comfortable guest room in Denver, Colorado. I think they use it for AirBnB or something. I get to use it until the end of the month.
Last week, I spent 5 days in a mental hospital because of suicidal ideation, rolling panic attacks, and long periods of dissociative episodes.
I left the hospital feeling pretty good. Found some meds that worked, got some help I needed (like this place to stay), and for the first time in a while had a feeling of hopefulness.
I even landed a date with one of the other patients while I was in there ("that sounds...safe" said the friend that picked me up. "You're gonna have the best sex ever" said the dude that I was staying with at the time).
I left the hospital on Tuesday, and by Wednesday had the music turned up as I drove through the Colorado mountains down into the Arizona desert.
A spent a few days with my family.
My brother and sister-in-law were cool, but maybe a little distant. They got awkward whenever I mentioned how awkward I was feeling having to spend time with family so soon after being let out of the nut house.
My parents were worse.
They were worried every time I tried to be by myself (which was often), they asked pointed and blunt questions about the state of my mental health (which I had trouble answering. It's hard to explain why getting stuck in the snow can lead one to such a state of panic and desperate hopelessness that they had to be hospitalized. At least not without providing all of the re-traumatizing context of the last several months or years). They also unloaded on me all of the mental illness shit they are dealing with. My mom is suicidal apparently. My dad is incredibly depressed. My mom has diarrhea when she's anxious. Do you have diarrhea, son?
This would have all been fine had I been able to take my new meds (they really were working for me). But alas, though I applied for Medicaid and should be approved (I have technically been homeless and unemployed for more than a year), my application is still pending. The drugs are over $350 out of pocket. The application for Medicaid can take up to three months.
Awesome.
So I was in the desert, still feeling exactly the way I was feeling when I went to the hospital, but now with the added fun of being watched under a microscope and being expected to be a therapist to my parents.
That's when the ole ex-girlfriend started texting.
Apparently, a friend of mine asked her to keep some distance because she has been a "stressor" for me lately. This is, of course, an understatement. For the last two months, she has refused to accept that I broke up with her and has called or texted at least once a day to tell me how much she loves me and asking me to take her back.
I should have blocked her, but instead believed I was helping her by always taking the calls and explaining over and over again why I broke up with her and just how bad my mental state was.
Well, anyway, she was upset that my friend (unbeknownst to me) asked her to give me some space.
She was yelling and crying at me and wouldn't let me talk.
While at the same time, my mom was calling because I haven't been at the house in over 45 minutes, so she had truly convinced herself that I had somehow killed myself in the middle of a retirement RV park.
And now I am back here in Denver. I have a place to stay for three weeks. No idea what to do after that. Still having rolling panic attacks and dissociative episodes. Still really unable to write or make money or figure out how to find any kind of stability. Still taking calls from the ex-girlfriend. Still without any meds. Still finding that when I try to talk to someone about all of this, they change the subject to talk about themselves.
I swear, it's like being in a mental hospital has made me an expert on all of mental illness. People keep approaching me for advice about all of their relationship and existential problems.
And I am doing better, but I am not doing well.
I am about to go see my psychiatrist. I hope they have some samples of my meds or some other way for me to get my drugs while I am waiting for Medicaid. If not, I don't know what I will do.
I just want things to be better.
8:31 a.m. - 2019-02-08
Recent entries:
Hometown Tulsa - 2019-04-08
This Place Fits Like Your Old Favorite Pair of Jeans. - 2019-03-21
9 Days - 2019-03-19
I am feeling so many things but just want to sleep - 2019-03-05
Waiting - 2019-02-19
My profile
Archives
Notes
Diaryland
Random
RSS
others:
holdensolo
loveherwell
lust-
bantenhut
nudeplatypus
comebacktome
musicman575
i-lost-sarah
newschick
stardumb
hexes
gonzoprophet
cybers1ut
meffinmisfit
movingsands
the-grey-one
dangerspouse
unowhatilike
silverluna
elusive-you
tobehis
kenny-loo
brothasistas
my-rant
is-life
godsintimate
ruby--sky
creme-egg
darkly-blue
reevo
i-am-jack
similar
dooki
dagkyo
obijuan
buddyboy5
u2october
mojo1915
dudemanflab
aryssa90
baby--girl
alwaysinhim
cindylou03
gr8legs
greenstar7
krunkjazz
spittingame