Darkness Until Dawn

    When I was on Spravato I was not working. Things had gotten bad with my families. The biological and the corporate. We weren't seeing eye to eye about Prichards and Clozaril. But it seems we've gotten past that. I think. Then we had to resettle the meds and argue about THC and Spravato. Supposedly now we're moving on. I spend so much time just documenting what I'm doing now. I like feeling more in touch with my emotions and more open with people.      I feel this yearning to be productive vocationally. I'm excited for the kids. They've got important stuff going on. I need to get some traction with my communication. Especially my auditory communication. I wanted to be heard on my concerns about my healthcare. It seems I've done that. So now I need to focus.

          Well, hopefully I can please my angels. I applied for another tutoring job. I'm researching some remote work. I've got my car in for maintenance. Tomorrow I'm going to focus on looking at those jobs and cleaning some more. I think I'll try to add some more uplifting posts. Maybe adjust my perspective. All these memories about health care and personal differences is getting tiresome. I need some humor.       It's just weird being around health care workers these days. It used to be I was just another patient but there's always something in the air. Like a vibe. There's so much in people's eyes. I can tell I make some of them nervous. Maybe it's not so different. Maybe it was always like that. Then I missed my sleep doc appointment. I hate that. I'm so embarrassed to even contact them now. I get preoccupied. I need to regiment my routine better. March really shook me. I need to refocus my priorities again. Get this job thing locked do...

     Now this I find funny. I guess I've really gotten a reputation. The hospital system contacted me the very next day not just once, but three times. The first time was a text survey about my ER visit. The second time was a phone call inquiry on the quality of my visit. The third time was an automated voice survey about the quality of my visit.      Honestly, I could have let the female nurse do the catheter and she probably would have been gentler. Ironically, I thought I'd be crossing fewer lines if males did it. It wasn't the first time I'd had a catheter. That first coma. Before I went into it. The female nurse did the catheter just fine that time. She did it more gently. But that was '98. Anyways! 😳

      What I do like about this middle ground finding thing is that I feel more peace and I feel more connected to myself. I don't always feel connected to other people. I have gotten a lot of advice. I like that I think about electronics less. I still use them a lot, but they are less of a preoccupation. I feel that I'm seeing medication more realistically. I feel that my compassion is actually increasing. I was always angry; it was just a medicated angry.       Now the emotions are more obvious, and that scares people. They think that they can drug or talk or explain away the anger and the issues, but life just doesn't work that way. I have to actually deal with my problems. I feel like part of that is having really honest communications with health care professionals and budgeting more carefully. Handling trust and relationships differently. Not hiding so much. Which is why I do these posts. So, people can see the reality behind the chaos. Otherwise...

      You know, I actually liked this Dr. Darcy the second time around. She was quiet and gentle, like my former Family medicine NP. That's not always easy in an ER. I'm kind of glad they had me talk to several people. It gave me a better perspective of the ER. I saw things differently. It was refreshing. And the Observer told me a little about some of the people that worked at the ER. Not names of course. But it made them seem more human. And that's what I wanted. For us to all seem human.

     I'm trying to keep a cohesive memory. So, I've been spending time reviewing what's happened. I'm actually surprised the ER visit went so well. I did have some intrusive thoughts on the way out. But I found them easy to ignore. It was just some of the anger coming back to me. They were nice though.      I guess when I was little, they really were like family because my dad worked there. I felt like they liked me better before I grew up and developed mental illness. I wanted to be successful so that they would be proud, I guess. Part of me still looks for them to be proud. I feel like life is supposed to look different when you come from a doctor's family. People expect it to look different.      It was weird to see dr. darcy again. They asked me about Bipolar and paranoia again. I'm tired of talking that stuff. The whole point of these labels is to describe people's problems accurately so that they can deal with them better. But if the da...

      If I really wanted to hurt hospital workers, would I go around telling everyone about it? I think not. And you can assume many things about Elle, but all I said was that I was her guardian angel, and if she needed anything, to find me. Do I actually expect her to come find me? No. But it's called gratitude. A strange way to express it, maybe. People make all sorts of assumptions. And if you're wondering, she did exactly what she was supposed to do. She knew I was a patient, because I told her who I was.       She said nothing at all.