Finally, some good news

Heard back from Partial Hospitalization program at Local Hospital. They had me call financial, and after I got off the phone with them, I was told to call back on Monday to set me up for Tuesday morning. This is great. Shortly afterwards, I got a call from the community mental health program, and they did an over the phone intake for me, and I will go in to see them on Monday morning at 8:45am.

I have decided to go across the state with D this weekend, it's just a matter of driving up there now. We'll see how that goes. I really want to talk to T, but I doubt he'll answer his phone. *sigh*

A little more from the notebook...

5.31.11

At dinner my tomato soup was missing. How can you have grilled cheese without tomato soup? Oh well. I'll survive. I've been through worse. 

They did bring crackers for the soup, and I will admit that having my calories right there on the ticket for my meal is really a nice touch. A girl could get used to that. It made me conscious of just how little I eat in a day. No wonder I am at 162 right now. It's the lowest I've been in years and I am sorta proud of myself. Another 40 lbs and I'll be where I'd like to be. Someday the number on my scale will be low enough for someone to love, unconditionally. Hoping for an email from NA when I get home. I don't know if it is good to have, but I sure do appreciate having someone to talk to at times. 

Sitting across from Ben at dinner, and I notice that he's quite quiet. He's in his 40s and to look at him you would never believe he is one to have mental problems. Just goes to show you that even the ones who look like they have it all together are the ones who surprise you the most.

This afternoon I met Lynn. She's probably in her 30's, and she has cut up her arms like a fucking Christmas ham. She was working on the island and was air lifted off after her suicide attempt. The cuts are visible and are not very deep. They look more like a cry for help than a valid attempt. There were no stitches, and no bandages. She is convinced she will get out early, however. She is searching for an easy out with anxiety pills and pain meds. She has family, but doesn't want to stay with her sister or grandmother, she would rather be homeless and claim that they are negative, though from what she has told me, they are nothing but positive influences against drinking and drugs and self harm. I fail to hear any positives come from her about her situation.

Lynn's arms are cut poorly on her right arm, across the road, but on her left arm she has cut down the street. She also have marks on her neck, probably ligature marks from trying to hang herself. I can't imagine the scrapes on her arms being enough to warrant a suicide attempt, and if she were actually going to do it, it would be with the neck. She will not have a job when she gets out of the hospital, her job has told her not to return because she needs to focus on getting herself better. 

Daphne was discharged this evening, prior to dinner. We exchanged phone numbers, so at some point I will send her a text message to see how she is doing.

Mikel will be discharged in the morning. I feel for him as he doesn't have the options to go home to a greatly supportive environment. He comes from a family of alcoholics, and his friends are of the age where the most important thing is drinking and having a good time. It's sad that society has such a sway on how we view things. 

Al Qaeda asked me when I am leaving and I told him tonight. Hopefully he gets the help he needs.

I am so excited to get out of here.  

 Al Qaeda is now telling us about his tattoo from the "gang" he was in. He claims he was a "Crip" and that he is shocked that there are no gangs here in our Town. Of course not. It's our Town, after all. His haircut is bizarre, like a mangey buzz cut. In reply to Gania's comment of "It's wonderful to be free" he shouted back "It's wonderful to smoke crack". 

A new patient is moved into the room across the hall from me. Her name will be Wendy and I probably wont' meet her. Her hair is matted to her head, and she appears to be in her 40s. I wish her the best on the unit.

Ben and I will be in partial hospitalization together. It will be nice to see a familiar face. He describes it as "life altering". I certainly hope so.

As we were sitting in the TV lounge, post-dinner, waiting for a group therapy session that never happened, and really just buying time until visiting hours began, E showed up. We were sitting in the lounge, and in walks Jenna. She points at every single one of us in the room, starting with me, then E, then Doc, Gania, Al Qaeda and Ben, and says "You're not my friend" to each and every one of us. She then returns to her room and gets a notebook and pen and writes down all of our names. She worries me. 

Debbie, a nurse, comes into the room to have me sign my discharge papers and ask me if I have received my items back from lockup. I told her no, but that I had a few things in my room. E and I walked to my room to gather my things as she went to go get my things from lockup. I'm going home. She gives me back my hoodie and my wallet, I sign a few things and I'm free to leave. As she is unlocking the door and wishing me well, Jenna walks up to me and says "Goodbye and good riddance." The ignorance of some people amazes me. Though E and I had a good laugh on the walk down to his vehicle. I'm glad to be going home.  

Update (And a little more notebook)

I just got off the phone with partial hospitalization at Local Hospital. I can start on Tuesday, and so that's good.

A little more from the notebook...

Jenna just came into the TV room where Mikel and I were sitting. My book being read. She asked what we were doing and Mikel told her about leaving tomorrow. She went into a diatribe about how she can't live with guys because they are always sitting there and reading her mind. Then she went on to say she could read my mind, and Mikel's, just as we could read hers. Girl is nuts. And again, she called me "peanut". 

Great news came about 4:45pm. I am going to go home tonight. My foray into the world of darkness and psychiatric disorders will come to a close tonight... less than 24 hours after I slipped into what is my deepest moment of dispair. I think it's some kind of record to get out of here in that short of time. Just a little break to get myself together. Hopefully T will be acailable to talk to me tonight. I want him to know about the panic that sent me into this spiral that landed me in this place. 

I also hope to talk to K tonight. Of all the guys I know, I still feel a strong connection to him. Part of me is hopeful that he gets a job at the local Casino because I would love to see him more. Doesn't hurt that he's super hot, and tons of fun to hang out with. I miss that guy.

Mostly looking forward to being home tonight, being able to close my door and not have it opened every 15 minutes to have someone watch me sleep. That was creepy and unnerving. With that, I hope to close the door on the darkness of the last few days.  

 It's almost dinner time, and one step closer to going home. Tonight I have ordered a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. I'm actually looking forward to it. For hospital food, it's actually really good. I called E to come at visitation hours to pick me up. He could come sooner, but I really want to see what happens with the remainder of the group sessions that I am scheduled for. A 45 minute "wrap up" is supposed to happen, but doesn't, so it seems almost fruitless to have stayed. Could it be that I am actually enjoying the chaos that surrounds me right now? 

As we were sitting and talking in the TV room, Al Qaeda just shouted out "Alcohol makes you feel so much better though!" This had nothing to do with the conversation that was taking place in that room, and I fail to see how he has any chance of being released any time soon. 

On the board is a quote "THE PAST IS A TOOL FOR THE NOW WHICH DETERMINES THE PRESENT WHICH DETERMINES THE FUTURE"

Hope my few readers are having a good day, I'm watching some news stories unfold and trying to determine if I want to go across the state with D and her family for the weekend. It's a 7 hour drive, so hopefully... hopefully... it would clear my mind.

 

more observations

More from my 5.31.11 notebook as I was on the unit

Jenna, the annoying touchy one and Ken, the Al Qaeda kid are related. When they get out, they were planning on living together. Just no, in the hall, Jenna declared that Ken is not living with her"You're just not" is all she declared. Granted, there was no argument from him.  

Now Phillip is pacing the hall, hands in his pockets, nervous as ever. I kind of feel his pain. Of all the people here, I think he would be the one to follow through with his suicide threat.

My heart goes out to most of these people. Most of them are not crazy, they just have a lot going on in their heads. I've been there, so it's hard to judge, not that it's really my place. I think being here has given me some perspective.

I really miss T right now and I fear that my weakness and needing to be here will have me losing him forever. I love him and don't want that, I just wish he were open about how he feels about me. 

As lame as it is, Daphne, Mikel and I are all enthralled with the weather channel. It almost feels normal to know what is going on outside, because we are unable to go out and experience it right now. Just a small reminder about what is happening in the real world. I don't know how people can be in here for any extended period. Even working here has to drive you crazy. I miss my ability to be online, and as much as overconnectivity annoys me, I miss it.

Philip has joined us in the TV room. He talks to himself under his breath and I think he may be a touch schizophrenic. I am not relishing the thought of being here another evening. Granted, I don't have the fear as I did on my first day in, but I am a bit anxious. And if Jenna doesn't stop her predatory pacing, I'm going to need an Ativan. I just cannot be confined any longer. I don't want to be asking for meds, because I think that will slow my progress of getting the fuck out. 

Here's hoping that T will be talking to me and I'll be able to see him on Thursday.

E said he would stay at my apartment with me if I get out. I hope he is able to spring me from this joint. I think he will have earned the Arts and Crafts project.

I have a few things I need to do if I am going to go see D tonight and spend the weekend in the other part of the state. So I suppose I should get on that.

 

Psycho Arts & Crafts

Another excerpt from my notebook as I was on the unit.

The doctor just came in to talk to Mikel. He is a good person to talk with and I hope he does well in his life. With any luck, I'll be out of here tonight. 

The Al Qaeda kid just came to sit and talk with me. He's 22 and he came in after attempting suicide while "drunk on ten shots". He is unemployed, and from the vibe I get from him, terribly unstable. At 22 though, I was in chaos, too. So I can understand this. Not the getting drunk and trying to kill yourself thing, but the being so disorganized and uncertain that you feel there is no way out. 

Jenna is still pacing rapidly through the unit. This is unnerving to me. So bizarre.

At 2:45, scratch that, 2:30, there was an Art Class. I couldn't find a canoe to make for my friend, N, (kind of an inside commentary between N and I) so I settled for "stained glass". A plastic tropical fish scene, which I filled with goopy paint and little motivation. It's 3:30 now and I have asked again if it would be possible to go home today. As time goes by, I think my chances are dwindling. But I have to try. 

At this "art class" a woman by the name of Gania (pronounced like Tonya with a G) kept telling me how pretty my stained glass project was. I just wanted to finish the damn thing and swim by looking like I was participating. What I learned from being on the unit for this short period of time is, you are more likely to get out if you pretend like you are trying really hard and participating in all the inane activities that they make you do. If you go to your room and just nap, they won't mark you down as "involved in your daily life". 

The Nurse facilitating the art class, Cindy, kept asking me ad nauseum if I had ever been snorkeling. I explained that I had lived in Key West and had been many times. I also told her about my travels to St. John and now I was once a travel agent. I told her about my plans to travel this fall, to Belize and Honduras. 

 

 I'm home after my chiropractic appointment, feeling OK in my back and neck, but not really feeling like I am OK emotionally today. I tried calling E, but got his voicemail twice. R called me and we spoke for a bit, I also talked to D. I think I am going to go with D to a different part of the state for the weekend, as I don't have any appointments until Monday morning, and I haven't heard back from the partial hospitalization program. Perhaps just being out of this area and being around people, I will be able to be OK for a while until I am back to work full time. I also talked to M for a short amount of time.

Somehow, I am going to get through this.

On the Unit...

From the notebook I wrote in for the duration of my stay on the Mental Health Unit...

5.31.11

I really hope that someone comes to visit me today. I am sure E will be here, but I don't know if M, or K or T will come. I hope someone does. At least with E bringing my phone, I'll be able to check texts and facebook and other things. I think I never should have checked in to begin with. I'm occupying a bed that would be better filled by someone who needs it. Just waiting for that knock on my door to tell me it's time to go home

I think if I stay here, it really will drive me insane. I feel like a caged animal here.

Another person, a girl we'll call Jenna. A total wacko. She comes up to me and says "are you new on the unit? You need a hug." and hugs me. I generally don't turn down a hug, but this seems bizarre. Add to the fact that she smells weird, and I don't touch smelly things. And then there's the mustard stain on her grey shirt that is falling off her shoulders, exposing a dingy bra strap. She walks around, smacking her gum, barefoot like a tiger waiting for the chance to devour a pile of raw meat or an antelope carcass. She tells me I am "cute as a button" and calls me "peanut". 

It's 2:20 pm right now, and the nurse, Sharon, is talking to my social worker and doctor to see if I can be released into the care of E. I'd love to go home, get a real shower, and sleep in my own bed. As it is, sitting on this rock hard bed, I keep going back to the thought that if I stay here any longer, I am going to actually go batshit insane.

At this point of June 2, I have a Chiropracter appointment shortly, I will add more later today of the chronicle of my stay on the unit. I can't believe how much I wrote in the short time I was there.

Childhood friend, D, has invited me to go to another part of the state this weekend to be with her as she buries her grandmother's ashes. I will likely go, as I really have nothing else going on, and at least I won't be alone.