Hey y’all, it has been a long time. Honestly, this has been the longest month and a half of my life. And since apparently, I’m no good at openly communicating my thoughts and feelings out loud, you, the lucky reader, get to listen.
It all started with a 2 week downward mental spiral. I had no idea human beings could cry that much for that long, but that’s all I did. Cried, pulled myself together for work, came home, and cried until I fell asleep. I was so lonely, and everything seemed so hopeless; I just wanted to die. All my friends seemed too busy, and I was afraid to tell them how I really felt anyway.
So, that’s how I landed myself in the hospital, in inpatient, which, I’m not gonna lie, was super nice at first. All my financial struggles disappeared, and I had no laundry to do, and I had all my meals brought to me. They essentially took away all of my problems, and it felt spectacular. However, it did get really old, really fast, though. I wasn’t allowed to listen to music unless they played it in art therapy which they rarely did. The food also got really old really fast, and they wouldn’t stop checking my vitals. Seriously there is nothing more annoying than being woken up at 7 in the morning just so they can take your freakin’ blood pressure. But when they do, it’s too low, “probably because you just woke up, so we will try again in a bit” (thanks for nothing). I was about to lose my mind for real by the time they finally let me go home. The first thing I did was put my earbuds in and listen to some real music. Obviously lol. Then I got home and was finally reunited with my dog, which was very nice.
After a week of torturous days in inpatient, I started a partial hospitalization program that was most of the day. However, I got to eat real food and still listen to my music. It was nice to have structure and social interaction. I learned a lot about myself, and it wasn’t awful. They made me talk about my feelings A LOT which was like “feelings? what are feelings”. I’ll tell you what feelings are. Feelings are annoying little monsters that never leave you alone. I also learned I am the poster child for passive-aggressive communication and, generally, not good with communication. It’s not my fault though; sometimes, I DON’T WANT TO COMMUNICATE. Often actually, because I don’t want to have to try and put the thousands of thoughts in my head into words. It’s much easier just to not talk at all, and then they want me to share my feelings with others as well??? Ewwwwww. I don’t do feelings talk. I do sarcasm, and I do it really, REALLY well.
So, you can probably see why they kept me around for 4 weeks instead of the traditional two. I really do hate feelings talk though, and that’s why they transferred me to another outpatient program. I’m not typically a serious person. Feelings and thoughts are serious, henceforth awkward, henceforth why I prefer sarcasm. I’m not gonna sell myself short though; I’ve come a long way. I’ve moved from “I just want to die” to “ugh, I’d rather die.” That’s progress, folks, but if you aren’t new to my blog, you know I wouldn’t tell you all of this unless there was still something bugging me. I still have a week to go before my new meds kick in, and it’s starting to feel like it never will.
Nights are the hardest. Around late afternoon it all starts going downhill until I’m crying myself to sleep AGAIN. I had no idea anyone could cry as much as I have. I feel like such a wimp, but I can’t help it. It all comes back to me at night. Other people are living my dreams and having a jolly grand time while I’m alone with absolutely nobody! Then the hopelessness comes back, and cue the waterworks because those feelings genuinely hurt, and I don’t know how to make them go away. It’s hard to want to live when my brain goes down that road. Thankfully, I have all these “skills” to help me now, but they only do so much. I just want anyone to rescue me, yet I know no one is coming because no one ever comes. I hate it. It sucks.
I just want to know it’s gonna be okay. It’s tough being a Christian because I can’t help but be so angry with God for letting my life get to this point. Like why don’t you do something? Everyone tells me they’ve been praying for me, and He’s with me but….. Ummmmm, I don’t see him, and if he cares so much about me, why doesn’t he do something. I don’t know. Like I said, it’s hard, and it sucks. My friend promised me that it would get better; I hope he’s right. I’ve still got a long way to go. I just hope my meds kick in soon. Sometimes I don’t know how much more I’ll be able to take, but this time I’m not gonna be a hypocrite.
A post or two ago, I told you guys that this world is not better off without you and because I firmly believe that, I have to assume that it won’t be better off without me either. I’ve worked too hard and come too far to give up now. I don’t know why God is so silent, but I know that I will keep fighting. I will keep fighting because I refuse to believe this is all there is. I refuse. All my therapists, legitimately ALL of them, tell me I need to learn to be patient, so maybe, just maybe…. this is my chance to figure out how to do that. Wish me luck, and hang in there.
Sincerely,
LIBD
Road to Recovery (Learning Patience)
