I just found out one of my best friends died the other day. I found out through facebook which isn't my favorite way of finding stuff like that out but at least I found out. I don't know how she died but I do know she was beautiful. This girl was always there for me when I needed her and I tried to be there for her. We watched Rocky Horror together along with Girl Interrupted. She made me art projects that I have and always will cherish. She was one of the most loving people I have ever met and I pray that one day we will meet again. There are so many words that I wish I could find right now but through the tears and wondering I can't really think straight. I love you my lovely angel party it up in heaven til I get there!
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
Friday, November 1, 2013
Some Bad News....
So I went to the nurse here at the shelter about how I haven't had a period since August. She decided to do some blood work and I waited a week for the results...yesterday I got those results. I have a tumor on my pituitary gland. She said its probably nothing to be worried about but I do need an MRI of my brain since that is where the gland is located. I will keep you all updated. I love you guys!!
Friday, September 13, 2013
The Last Month of my Life
So, August 9th I was admitted to Hendrie CRU, two weeks later, on a Wendesday, I was discharged I ended up being readmitted that Friday and was there until September 4th. September 4th I was discharged back to Common Ground's screening center where no one cared. I was crying and telling them that if they sent me back to where I was staying I would overdose, hearing this the doctor said "If you overdose, God Bless You.", and he sent me on my way.
I was back in reality for a few hours and, even though I was in a house where I knew I was loved, after a few hours of being there I overdosed. I just couldn't handle life anymore.
Then, I thought of the family I would be doing this to I thought of April, Chuck, Kate, Ben, and Karl and how last year they lost Willis to suicide and how just recently they lost a family friend to suicide. Those thoughts, those people are the reason I called 911. They are the reason I am still alive.
A bunch of cops showed up, a firetruck showed up, and an ambulance showed up. I was patted down to make sure I didn't have any weapons, I was asked to tell the story over and over. All of this while my heart was racing, my head didn't quite feel right, and I could barely keep myself upright, and through all that I could do was wonder "Is this what it was like when they found Willis?", "What have I done to these people who have done noting but care about me?".
I was escorted to the ambulance, each step taking great amounts of concentration. People were staring.
I don't think there was ever a point in my life where I felt worse about myself. These people opened their home to me, and all I did was hurt them.
In the ambulance I was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. My heart was racing, my pulse was high, and my blood pressure was really low and getting lower and time went on.
When we got to the ER at Crittenton the first thing they did was stick a tube down my nose in the hopes of emptying my stomach of the pill fragments. It hurt so terribly bad, and I ended up puking all over myself. They emptied my stomach, but found no pill fragments, then they put charcoal down the tube to neutralize the chemicals from the pills. They did a EKG and put me back on a heart monitor. Physically, I was feeling better.
Not long after my arrival at the ER the moved me up to the cardiac floor because my heart still wasn't quite right. I was there overnight and was medically cleared the next day. One of the psychiatrists from the Behavioral Health Unit came down to talk to me, and decided I should be admitted to the unit.
A few hours later there I was, my freedom gone. They took most of my stuff, and did a body check. I soon discovered that I knew one of the patients, for reasons of confidentiality I cannot say her name. I was put in her room and we spent some time catching up. She was soon discharged and I miss her and worry about her everyday. The psychiatrist there put me on the highest does of my anti-depressant, gave me my Klonopin back, and changed my sleeping medication.
I then got a devastating phone call, I was homeless once again and this time my stuff was already packed and moved out. I cannot say I was shocked and I cannot say that I am mad, but I am upset. The only reason I am upset is because I found out through someone else, not the people I was staying with. It's just that I am getting really sick of people not saying things to me directly.
I tried finding a new place to go but it wasn't easy. Finally, I called a friend I have had since elementary school and asked if I could stay with her for a bit, she said yes and here I am. Looking for my next place to stay because I know I cannot stay here forever.
Life just keeps getting more and more unbearable and I don't know how or if I am going to be able to fight through this, but I do know that right now all I want is a place to stay long term so I can stop living out of duffle bags and suitcases.
I was back in reality for a few hours and, even though I was in a house where I knew I was loved, after a few hours of being there I overdosed. I just couldn't handle life anymore.
Then, I thought of the family I would be doing this to I thought of April, Chuck, Kate, Ben, and Karl and how last year they lost Willis to suicide and how just recently they lost a family friend to suicide. Those thoughts, those people are the reason I called 911. They are the reason I am still alive.
A bunch of cops showed up, a firetruck showed up, and an ambulance showed up. I was patted down to make sure I didn't have any weapons, I was asked to tell the story over and over. All of this while my heart was racing, my head didn't quite feel right, and I could barely keep myself upright, and through all that I could do was wonder "Is this what it was like when they found Willis?", "What have I done to these people who have done noting but care about me?".
I was escorted to the ambulance, each step taking great amounts of concentration. People were staring.
I don't think there was ever a point in my life where I felt worse about myself. These people opened their home to me, and all I did was hurt them.
In the ambulance I was hooked up to an IV and a heart monitor. My heart was racing, my pulse was high, and my blood pressure was really low and getting lower and time went on.
When we got to the ER at Crittenton the first thing they did was stick a tube down my nose in the hopes of emptying my stomach of the pill fragments. It hurt so terribly bad, and I ended up puking all over myself. They emptied my stomach, but found no pill fragments, then they put charcoal down the tube to neutralize the chemicals from the pills. They did a EKG and put me back on a heart monitor. Physically, I was feeling better.
Not long after my arrival at the ER the moved me up to the cardiac floor because my heart still wasn't quite right. I was there overnight and was medically cleared the next day. One of the psychiatrists from the Behavioral Health Unit came down to talk to me, and decided I should be admitted to the unit.
A few hours later there I was, my freedom gone. They took most of my stuff, and did a body check. I soon discovered that I knew one of the patients, for reasons of confidentiality I cannot say her name. I was put in her room and we spent some time catching up. She was soon discharged and I miss her and worry about her everyday. The psychiatrist there put me on the highest does of my anti-depressant, gave me my Klonopin back, and changed my sleeping medication.
I then got a devastating phone call, I was homeless once again and this time my stuff was already packed and moved out. I cannot say I was shocked and I cannot say that I am mad, but I am upset. The only reason I am upset is because I found out through someone else, not the people I was staying with. It's just that I am getting really sick of people not saying things to me directly.
I tried finding a new place to go but it wasn't easy. Finally, I called a friend I have had since elementary school and asked if I could stay with her for a bit, she said yes and here I am. Looking for my next place to stay because I know I cannot stay here forever.
Life just keeps getting more and more unbearable and I don't know how or if I am going to be able to fight through this, but I do know that right now all I want is a place to stay long term so I can stop living out of duffle bags and suitcases.
Sunday, August 25, 2013
I Have To Go (A Poem)
Goodbye
Goodbye
Goodbye
I have to go
Though I love you so
Strength is fading
The pills are aiding
My suicide
Slipping away
Keeping tears
At bay
I'm dying
Bleeding cuts
Mind filled with
"what ifs" and "buts"
My heart slows
I hate to leave you alone
These cuts
Cannot be sewn
I whisper
"I'm sorry"
As I die alone
Saturday, August 24, 2013
This Is Probably Not Good...
So I know this might not be something people want to read but I need to get it out and I'm not forcing anyone to read this.
On thursday I cut myself. This would just be something I normally do and it wouldn't bother me except for the fact that this time it didn't hurt. I cut my arms and thighs and I felt nothing but a calm peacefulness...no pain. Usually it hurts...a lot. So I'm kinda freaking out...has it really been something I've done for such a long time that my body is used to it? That would be a possibility but I hadn't done it in 6 months so my body is not used to it anymore. This is not good...
A Long Few Days
It has been a long few days ...i was discharged from Hendrie House on wednesday and went straight back to common ground. After a few hours common ground sent me home with an appointment to go to thursday morning. I went to my appointment thursday and was completely honest with my doctor and therapist about my suicidal ideations and plan but they didn't do anything to help me and just sent me back home. Later on thursday I went to the emergency room. I went to the ER instead of straight to common ground because when you go to the ER they put you on a petition and cert. Those are legal documents that basically mean I could not leave common ground on my own once I got there. This was good because last september I left common ground and overdosed the next day. I spent all night thursday in the ER and went to common ground friday morning. Common ground was really frustrating because they wanted to send me back home and it seemed like they didn't want to help me. After a few hours I finally convinced them I needed more help and they decided to send me back to Hendrie. I had to sit there all day while they did the paperwork but finally I got back here to Hendrie. I was welcomed back with open arms and after days of crying and panic attacks I was able to laugh and feel safe. I'm really hoping it helps this time!
Monday, August 12, 2013
Back in Recovery
So, as of last Friday I am back in recovery. I'm back at Hendrie House. It's a really good place to be. The staff are so kind and supportive. I was welcomed back with hugs, something I need on a regular basis. The groups here are helpful for the most part, though some of them are substance abuse groups which are hard to relate to. Another good thing is the seemingly unlimited amounts of Jolly Ranchers. On a serious note as much as I am thankful to be here instead of in a hospital, I wish I didn't need to be here. They switched up my meds...took me off of my Wellbutrin because one of the side effects is anxiety and I have been having really bad anxiety. The doctor also put me on an anti anxiety medication that I have no idea how to spell. Its helped so far. I haven't been rocking back and forth and I haven't been having racing thoughts. So far so good. Hopefully when I get out of here I won't need to come back, but if I do I will.
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
Not Worth Any Tears
Lately, I haven't really been myself. Though, I'm not entirely sure who I am.
People keep telling me how proud they are that I'm handling all this so well, that I haven't slipped back into my depression, that I'm doing so good.
Little do they know, they're just making it worse. I can't show what I feel because I'll disappoint people. So, I'm going to type it because, chances are, people from TTI, who have been saying such things, don't read my blog in their spare time.
The following is not a threat of any kind, I have no plans of anything, it's just how I feel...Read at your own risk...
I feel like everything is worthless. I feel like there is nothing I can do to stop all of these crappy situations from happening. I've been fighting all of this depression and such for 11 years, I'm so sick of it. I just want to be done. Sure, there are good things that happen. I have a place to stay and a way to get to school, but the bad things are so much more. I'm not going to go into them because if you've been keeping up with my blog you should know what's been going on.
I feel like the depression is spreading through my life, as ink spreads through water. It's taking over. This blackness is consuming me. I spend my time alone, I listen to sad music, I don't want to do anything, and I have no goals. It takes so much out of me just to get up and shower, let alone go to therapy and pretend I'm pretty much okay.
I tell my therapist when I have bad days because I don't want it to seem like everything is perfect, but she doesn't know how bad it's gotten. She doesn't know that there are nights where I sit in bed awake contemplating whether or not I should cut. There are days where all I can think about is ending it all. Thinking how wonderful it would be to be done with all of this after a long 11 years. That is a selfish thought and I am not a selfish person.
I don't think I could do that to this family, they've been through so much already. That doesn't mean I can't do it once I get my own place. It just means that the chances of me taking my own life at this point in time are very slim, and even if I were to attempt anything I would feel so terrible about it that I would call 911.
Sometimes, when I feel this way I call my therapist for coaching, but nothing she says helps. I can't call her every second of every day.
This isn't what people expect me to feel. So, I don't really communicate it because I want to be the person people expect me to be.
I know it'll happen, I know I'll be the one to take my life...I never have been able to see it any other way...I just don't know when it'll happen.
I'm seriously contemplating telling my therapist all of this tomorrow after group, but I really don't want to go back to the hospital...I've been out for 6 months and that's the longest I've ever gone. I would hate to ruin it now...
People keep telling me how proud they are that I'm handling all this so well, that I haven't slipped back into my depression, that I'm doing so good.
Little do they know, they're just making it worse. I can't show what I feel because I'll disappoint people. So, I'm going to type it because, chances are, people from TTI, who have been saying such things, don't read my blog in their spare time.
The following is not a threat of any kind, I have no plans of anything, it's just how I feel...Read at your own risk...
I feel like everything is worthless. I feel like there is nothing I can do to stop all of these crappy situations from happening. I've been fighting all of this depression and such for 11 years, I'm so sick of it. I just want to be done. Sure, there are good things that happen. I have a place to stay and a way to get to school, but the bad things are so much more. I'm not going to go into them because if you've been keeping up with my blog you should know what's been going on.
I feel like the depression is spreading through my life, as ink spreads through water. It's taking over. This blackness is consuming me. I spend my time alone, I listen to sad music, I don't want to do anything, and I have no goals. It takes so much out of me just to get up and shower, let alone go to therapy and pretend I'm pretty much okay.
I tell my therapist when I have bad days because I don't want it to seem like everything is perfect, but she doesn't know how bad it's gotten. She doesn't know that there are nights where I sit in bed awake contemplating whether or not I should cut. There are days where all I can think about is ending it all. Thinking how wonderful it would be to be done with all of this after a long 11 years. That is a selfish thought and I am not a selfish person.
I don't think I could do that to this family, they've been through so much already. That doesn't mean I can't do it once I get my own place. It just means that the chances of me taking my own life at this point in time are very slim, and even if I were to attempt anything I would feel so terrible about it that I would call 911.
Sometimes, when I feel this way I call my therapist for coaching, but nothing she says helps. I can't call her every second of every day.
This isn't what people expect me to feel. So, I don't really communicate it because I want to be the person people expect me to be.
I know it'll happen, I know I'll be the one to take my life...I never have been able to see it any other way...I just don't know when it'll happen.
I'm seriously contemplating telling my therapist all of this tomorrow after group, but I really don't want to go back to the hospital...I've been out for 6 months and that's the longest I've ever gone. I would hate to ruin it now...
Sunday, July 28, 2013
22 Things I Miss...
So, I should be sleeping, but I felt the need to write this. This is a list of things I miss:
1) My Dad's pancakes on the weekends. I hope my siblings enjoy them.
2) Laying in bed with my dad watching Pokemon.
3) Biking up to Spencer Park with my Dad and my brother.
4) Fishing and canoeing with my Dad and brother.
5) My Dad's "Train wreck." That stuff was amazing.
6) That raspberry dessert my Dad made for family get togethers.
7) The way my Dad cut up strawberries and let them soak in sugar. My favorite!
8) The way my Dad would tuck me into bed at night.
9) The way my Dad told me he was proud of me when I got good grades.
10) My Dad's bear hugs.
11) The way my Dad was the only person I could trust to tell things to.
12) When my Dad put those pictures of my drunk Mom as the screensaver on the computer in the basement.
13) The Emmons house.
14) The way my Dad would drive me to school early so I could get help in math.
15) The way my Dad left work to see me in the hospital when I told him not to.
16) My Dad's cheesecake...sooo yummy!!
17) The trampoline in the backyard at my Dad's house.
18) The "blueberry" pool in the backyard at my Dad's house.
19) Sushi...the dog my Dad bought for me.
20) Tigger...my Dad's cat.
21) Girly-girl the Husky we took in.
22) Cookouts in my Dad's backyard.
Sooo...obviously I miss my Dad. We had a lot of good times when I was growing up. We got along real well until he got remarried. I feel like she replaced me. He started liking her more. Spending more time with her, something I wasn't used to. I felt threatened by her. Needless to say me and her never really got along. Not that I'm trying to talk bad about her. I'm happy that he's happy, I just wish he could be happy with me in his life too. He had a choice all those years ago and he picked her, it hurt then and it hurts now. Every girl needs her Daddy and mine forced me to leave, then moved to a whole other state. I can't even count the nights that I wish he were here to hug me and tuck me into bed. Dad...if you're reading this...don't be mad because I feel this way...I'm just being honest.
1) My Dad's pancakes on the weekends. I hope my siblings enjoy them.
2) Laying in bed with my dad watching Pokemon.
3) Biking up to Spencer Park with my Dad and my brother.
4) Fishing and canoeing with my Dad and brother.
5) My Dad's "Train wreck." That stuff was amazing.
6) That raspberry dessert my Dad made for family get togethers.
7) The way my Dad cut up strawberries and let them soak in sugar. My favorite!
8) The way my Dad would tuck me into bed at night.
9) The way my Dad told me he was proud of me when I got good grades.
10) My Dad's bear hugs.
11) The way my Dad was the only person I could trust to tell things to.
12) When my Dad put those pictures of my drunk Mom as the screensaver on the computer in the basement.
13) The Emmons house.
14) The way my Dad would drive me to school early so I could get help in math.
15) The way my Dad left work to see me in the hospital when I told him not to.
16) My Dad's cheesecake...sooo yummy!!
17) The trampoline in the backyard at my Dad's house.
18) The "blueberry" pool in the backyard at my Dad's house.
19) Sushi...the dog my Dad bought for me.
20) Tigger...my Dad's cat.
21) Girly-girl the Husky we took in.
22) Cookouts in my Dad's backyard.
Sooo...obviously I miss my Dad. We had a lot of good times when I was growing up. We got along real well until he got remarried. I feel like she replaced me. He started liking her more. Spending more time with her, something I wasn't used to. I felt threatened by her. Needless to say me and her never really got along. Not that I'm trying to talk bad about her. I'm happy that he's happy, I just wish he could be happy with me in his life too. He had a choice all those years ago and he picked her, it hurt then and it hurts now. Every girl needs her Daddy and mine forced me to leave, then moved to a whole other state. I can't even count the nights that I wish he were here to hug me and tuck me into bed. Dad...if you're reading this...don't be mad because I feel this way...I'm just being honest.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
The Girl Wearing Jeans (A Poem)
Okay...this is my first poem in over a year so be nice!
The girl wearing jeans
With a smile on her face
Seemed perfectly normal
Not a bit out of place
Not everything is how it seems
That jean clad girl
Filled with broken hopes
Broken dreams
I weep at night
I'm full of despair
My sadness so heavy
It just isn't fair
Finally, one day
I couldn't deal anymore
I sat with a razor
Hoping to see the blood pour
I watched my blood
As it pooled on my arm
I'm not scared
No reason for alarm
I was suddenly happy
Filled with peace
My heavy sadness
Seemed to cease
I stopped the bleeding
Put on a bandaid
My sadness is spreading
I wish my happiness had stayed...
The girl wearing jeans
With a smile on her face
Seemed perfectly normal
Not a bit out of place
Not everything is how it seems
That jean clad girl
Filled with broken hopes
Broken dreams
I weep at night
I'm full of despair
My sadness so heavy
It just isn't fair
Finally, one day
I couldn't deal anymore
I sat with a razor
Hoping to see the blood pour
I watched my blood
As it pooled on my arm
I'm not scared
No reason for alarm
I was suddenly happy
Filled with peace
My heavy sadness
Seemed to cease
I stopped the bleeding
Put on a bandaid
My sadness is spreading
I wish my happiness had stayed...
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Frustrations and Anxiety Run High
Today has been a very trying day so far and I haven't even been to class yet. I spent the first part of my day at T.T.I attending my DBT group and my med review. Group was not a good one today. I was extremely aggravated because of my lack of sleep due to the return of my nightmares (that would be a good title for a horror movie lol) Anyways, I have been sleeping about 3 hours per night and that has caused me to become increasingly aggravated. So, the whole time I was in group trying to learn the skills people kept trying to turn it into an individual session for them, and I really just wanted to tell them to shut up, or smack them, or both. Then, my therapist decided to tell me that I'm not homeless because I'm staying with people. I tried to explain that I still don't have a home or a permanent place to live so, in my mind I am homeless, but she just ignored me. All through that I really wanted to hurt myself. I have had increasing urges to self-harm they just keep getting worse. I told my psychiatrist but he didn't do anything about it, though I'm not really sure there is anything he could have done. He refused to put me on anything for my anxiety, and he doubled the dose of my sleeping meds to help me sleep through the nightmares. I met my new case manager while I was there and she seems nice. I also ran into my previous case manager which was nice...I got a hug from her and it was much needed. Hugs are amazing.
Now, soon, I have class. Not just any class though, it is math class...of course. Oh, and to add to my frustration and anxiety we have our first test tonight. Now, this is a little known fact but when tests frustrate me I cry. I really hope this one isn't bad enough to make me cry...I already cried today and I would not like to cry again today.
I hope to sleep tonight and have tomorrow be a better day, but I don't have very high hopes because of these dang nightmares. I really think I have PTSD even though I have never been formally diagnosed with it.
Thanks for taking time out of your day to read my rant.
Love you lots! xoxoxo
Now, soon, I have class. Not just any class though, it is math class...of course. Oh, and to add to my frustration and anxiety we have our first test tonight. Now, this is a little known fact but when tests frustrate me I cry. I really hope this one isn't bad enough to make me cry...I already cried today and I would not like to cry again today.
I hope to sleep tonight and have tomorrow be a better day, but I don't have very high hopes because of these dang nightmares. I really think I have PTSD even though I have never been formally diagnosed with it.
Thanks for taking time out of your day to read my rant.
Love you lots! xoxoxo
Monday, July 15, 2013
4th of July, Willis, and a Family Who Cares...
So, this past month I have been thinking about Willis a lot more frequently, for those of you who don't know, Willis was a guy I knew, and cared very deeply about, who committed suicide in his own backyard just over a year ago.
What really started my thoughts about him was the 4th of July. The family I'm staying with, who also happened to be his family, had a BBQ and a bonfire. This was the first time they have actually celebrated the 4th since Willis died. All I could think of is how much fun he would have had. I could imagine him sitting and laughing with us around the fire and everything. It was really hard for me...I can only imagine what it was like for this family. Another thing that really hit home is that I got to see where it happened. We were walking down to the river behind the house and we passed the tree where he hung himself. That part of the tree is now a stump, but seeing that made it so much more real. I guess I was still in the "is he really gone" phase of grief, and seeing that made it more concrete that he's not coming back.
A lot of the time I feel really awkward and such because I know this family wasn't ready to take someone else in, even if it is only temporary. I know that they're still healing, I know that it still hurts. But they took me in anyways. Me, a girl who has attempted suicide many times, a girl who has been on life support because of her suicide attempt, a girl who can't help but think about suicide sometimes. They know that I struggle with suicide on a regular basis and they still took that chance and offered me a safe place to stay.
There aren't really words for how much I appreciate this family. They give me a place to sleep, they feed me, they let me use their shower and such, and they take me to school 4 nights a week. They don't have to do this for me, but they did knowing that I have nothing to give them in return.
I'm completely terrified that one day soon they will get sick of me staying with them and they will kick me out just like my parents have done. This really does seem too good to be true.
What really started my thoughts about him was the 4th of July. The family I'm staying with, who also happened to be his family, had a BBQ and a bonfire. This was the first time they have actually celebrated the 4th since Willis died. All I could think of is how much fun he would have had. I could imagine him sitting and laughing with us around the fire and everything. It was really hard for me...I can only imagine what it was like for this family. Another thing that really hit home is that I got to see where it happened. We were walking down to the river behind the house and we passed the tree where he hung himself. That part of the tree is now a stump, but seeing that made it so much more real. I guess I was still in the "is he really gone" phase of grief, and seeing that made it more concrete that he's not coming back.
A lot of the time I feel really awkward and such because I know this family wasn't ready to take someone else in, even if it is only temporary. I know that they're still healing, I know that it still hurts. But they took me in anyways. Me, a girl who has attempted suicide many times, a girl who has been on life support because of her suicide attempt, a girl who can't help but think about suicide sometimes. They know that I struggle with suicide on a regular basis and they still took that chance and offered me a safe place to stay.
There aren't really words for how much I appreciate this family. They give me a place to sleep, they feed me, they let me use their shower and such, and they take me to school 4 nights a week. They don't have to do this for me, but they did knowing that I have nothing to give them in return.
I'm completely terrified that one day soon they will get sick of me staying with them and they will kick me out just like my parents have done. This really does seem too good to be true.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Sick of Life
I know it has been a while since I posted, but I'm back...
So, a few weeks ago my mother kicked me out, making me homeless once again. It hurts so much to know that my parents don't love me. Parents who love their kids don't put their kids on the street not caring where they sleep, what they eat, or how they get to school.
I found a family to stay with, but no matter how welcome they try to make me feel, it isn't my home, it isn't my room, it isn't my bed, and it isn't my family. I feel so helpless staying with people who didn't have to take me in, and not being able to give them anything in return; it's not fair. In the past few weeks, these people have shown me more love than my parents do, and that's sad.
My safety was ripped away from me in a matter of minutes, and ever since then the nightmares are back, I cry whenever I'm alone, and I'm more depressed than ever. Truth is, I don't feel safe anymore and I don't know if I ever will.
The worst part is I had to leave my little brother and my cat behind. The two things I love most in this world and would do anything for, and I can't be with them. It was offered to me that I could bring my cat where I'm staying only to find him a new home because I'm broke and can't afford food or litter for him, but I could never do that. Asking me to get rid of my cat who has been there with me through everything, is like asking a parent who cares about their child to get rid of their 9 year old child (I say 9 because that is how old my cat is). So, for now my cat is with the person I have to call my mother. I wish I was there for my brother, but I can't be and chances are, as much as it breaks my heart, I probably wont be able to be there to see him graduate high school next year.
Now I'm stuck with a choice. Keep going to school and wait to see if I qualify for SSI, or quit school and, at the risk of a complete mental breakdown, try getting a job. I would love to wait to see if I can get SSI, but that can take months and I don't know if I can stay here that long. Everyday I fear that they are going to get sick of me and make me leave like my parents did.
Luckily, I can still go to therapy because TTI picks me up and takes me there, and TTI is paying for my medication since the state wont give me insurance.
Also, I need to have my gallbladder taken out, but I can't afford it because I have no income and no insurance. So, I just live with being sick and in pain all the time as it slowly gets worse.
I have people telling me to just be more positive. NEWSFLASH...it isn't that easy!!! I can't just turn off my depression and be positive, that's not how it works.
Anyways, it is 4:05 am and I have to be up for therapy in 6 hours so I am going to try to sleep even though I'll probably just end up in tears like I do every night.
xoxoxo
So, a few weeks ago my mother kicked me out, making me homeless once again. It hurts so much to know that my parents don't love me. Parents who love their kids don't put their kids on the street not caring where they sleep, what they eat, or how they get to school.
I found a family to stay with, but no matter how welcome they try to make me feel, it isn't my home, it isn't my room, it isn't my bed, and it isn't my family. I feel so helpless staying with people who didn't have to take me in, and not being able to give them anything in return; it's not fair. In the past few weeks, these people have shown me more love than my parents do, and that's sad.
My safety was ripped away from me in a matter of minutes, and ever since then the nightmares are back, I cry whenever I'm alone, and I'm more depressed than ever. Truth is, I don't feel safe anymore and I don't know if I ever will.
The worst part is I had to leave my little brother and my cat behind. The two things I love most in this world and would do anything for, and I can't be with them. It was offered to me that I could bring my cat where I'm staying only to find him a new home because I'm broke and can't afford food or litter for him, but I could never do that. Asking me to get rid of my cat who has been there with me through everything, is like asking a parent who cares about their child to get rid of their 9 year old child (I say 9 because that is how old my cat is). So, for now my cat is with the person I have to call my mother. I wish I was there for my brother, but I can't be and chances are, as much as it breaks my heart, I probably wont be able to be there to see him graduate high school next year.
Now I'm stuck with a choice. Keep going to school and wait to see if I qualify for SSI, or quit school and, at the risk of a complete mental breakdown, try getting a job. I would love to wait to see if I can get SSI, but that can take months and I don't know if I can stay here that long. Everyday I fear that they are going to get sick of me and make me leave like my parents did.
Luckily, I can still go to therapy because TTI picks me up and takes me there, and TTI is paying for my medication since the state wont give me insurance.
Also, I need to have my gallbladder taken out, but I can't afford it because I have no income and no insurance. So, I just live with being sick and in pain all the time as it slowly gets worse.
I have people telling me to just be more positive. NEWSFLASH...it isn't that easy!!! I can't just turn off my depression and be positive, that's not how it works.
Anyways, it is 4:05 am and I have to be up for therapy in 6 hours so I am going to try to sleep even though I'll probably just end up in tears like I do every night.
xoxoxo
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Suicide
Some people say that suicide is selfish. I have to respectfully disagree.
I think that suicide is a cry for help. Most people who threaten to kill themselves are just wanting to be saved, and when no one can save them they do what they think is saving themselves, which unfortunately is killing themselves.
I have been very fortunate to have the people I have in my life. The people I have in my life have saved me so many times, but they save me in a unique way. They make me save myself with their help, and I appreciate that greatly. I would never be where I am in my battle with mental illness if everyone did everything for me.
Anyways, it is time for group here at Hendrie House, so I must go.
xoxoxoxo
I think that suicide is a cry for help. Most people who threaten to kill themselves are just wanting to be saved, and when no one can save them they do what they think is saving themselves, which unfortunately is killing themselves.
I have been very fortunate to have the people I have in my life. The people I have in my life have saved me so many times, but they save me in a unique way. They make me save myself with their help, and I appreciate that greatly. I would never be where I am in my battle with mental illness if everyone did everything for me.
Anyways, it is time for group here at Hendrie House, so I must go.
xoxoxoxo
Life As It Is
I am currently in a Residential Crisis Unit called Hendrie House. I am here because I decided I wanted to shoot myself, and because I am hearing voices. So, I am here where I am safe while they adjust my meds.
This morning we did a group on grief and loss. It brought up a lot of negative feelings and emotions for me. It made me really miss Willis a lot more than I normally do. Just thinking about him makes me cry nowadays.
I have been a lot more emotional lately ever since I started hearing the voices. I cry at almost anything. I really hope theses new meds will help me with that. The doctor changed my Wellbutrin to Celexa and my Abilify to Risperdol. Celexa is an antidepressant, and Risperdol is an anti psychotic. I really hope the Risperdol helps with the voices, and the Celexa helps with my over emtionalness.
Hendrie House is really great. Everyone is so nice and we do a lot of helpful groups here. I am really glad I got to come here, but it wasn't easy getting here. When I was at Common Ground talking to the doctor he told me he didn't want to hospitalize me and he asked me what I would do if he sent me home. I told him that if he sent me home I would kill myself, and he laughed at me. It was very upsetting. So then I fought to come here since he didnt want me in a hospital. Finally, he sent me here and I was able to be in a safe place.
Thanks for reading.
xoxoxo
This morning we did a group on grief and loss. It brought up a lot of negative feelings and emotions for me. It made me really miss Willis a lot more than I normally do. Just thinking about him makes me cry nowadays.
I have been a lot more emotional lately ever since I started hearing the voices. I cry at almost anything. I really hope theses new meds will help me with that. The doctor changed my Wellbutrin to Celexa and my Abilify to Risperdol. Celexa is an antidepressant, and Risperdol is an anti psychotic. I really hope the Risperdol helps with the voices, and the Celexa helps with my over emtionalness.
Hendrie House is really great. Everyone is so nice and we do a lot of helpful groups here. I am really glad I got to come here, but it wasn't easy getting here. When I was at Common Ground talking to the doctor he told me he didn't want to hospitalize me and he asked me what I would do if he sent me home. I told him that if he sent me home I would kill myself, and he laughed at me. It was very upsetting. So then I fought to come here since he didnt want me in a hospital. Finally, he sent me here and I was able to be in a safe place.
Thanks for reading.
xoxoxo
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Saw my Psychiatrist Today...
So, today I went and saw my psychiatrist. He decided that, even though I have randomly started hearing a voice telling me to slit my wrists, I do not need any additional medicine to help with it. However, he did say that I am not active in the community and being active in the community would help. That doesn't even make any sense whatsoever!!
I am getting so fed up with TTI! The only helpful people there are Jamie (My case manager) and Annie (The DBT peer support person). My case manager leaves in 2 weeks on maternity leave. So, all I will have is Annie.
I really think that I am going to request to switch Psychiatrists. Mine just doesn't make sense.
Thanks for reading!!
xoxoxo
I am getting so fed up with TTI! The only helpful people there are Jamie (My case manager) and Annie (The DBT peer support person). My case manager leaves in 2 weeks on maternity leave. So, all I will have is Annie.
I really think that I am going to request to switch Psychiatrists. Mine just doesn't make sense.
Thanks for reading!!
xoxoxo
Sunday, February 17, 2013
College
So, I have officially left Rochester College. It just wasn't the school for me, and though I love it dearly I needed to leave. I miss it very much, and I miss my friends who are still there, but I guess I'll deal. I was going to transfer to Oakland University, but my financial aid got all screwed up. So, now I am probably going to Oakland Community College in the fall.
Having all this time off has been a blessing and a curse. It gives me time to focus on getting me better, but it also gives me a lot of down time. I miss having homework and physically going to class and interacting with people. I miss having teachers.
People think that I'm never going back to school, but I am going to prove them wrong. I love school, it is one of the things I have always and will always love.
I am thinking about changing my major, but I cannot decide what to change it to. I want to do so many things like medical assisting, phlebotomy, social work, stuff like that. Too many choices and not a lot of time to make this decision.
Anyways, thanks for reading.
xoxoxo
Having all this time off has been a blessing and a curse. It gives me time to focus on getting me better, but it also gives me a lot of down time. I miss having homework and physically going to class and interacting with people. I miss having teachers.
People think that I'm never going back to school, but I am going to prove them wrong. I love school, it is one of the things I have always and will always love.
I am thinking about changing my major, but I cannot decide what to change it to. I want to do so many things like medical assisting, phlebotomy, social work, stuff like that. Too many choices and not a lot of time to make this decision.
Anyways, thanks for reading.
xoxoxo
A Turn for the Worse
Welp, I know you guys have better things to do than read about my mental health, but here is an update. Recently I went MIA, that is because I was back in the Behavioral Health Unit of Crittenton because I was feeling uber suicidal. I had to call 911 to come get me because I was home alone, and as most of you know, I don't drive. I went to the ER and they sent me to Common Ground, and Common Ground sent me to Crittenton.
Now, ever since then, I have been hearing this voice that is telling me to cut myself and slit my wrists. Some of you may know that I would never have the idea to slit my wrists, I always overdose. This is really scary for me. It's not just my own voice, it is a very demanding male voice. A male voice that I do not recognize. I have a med review on Wednesday, and the doc upped my anti psychotic the other day. So, I am getting help.
I've been so suicidal lately, it's crazy and very scary. Though I can't overdose because TTI has me on a weekly medbox, which basically means I get my meds on a weekly basis instead of a monthly basis. So, that is a very good thing because I am determined to beat this. One day I will live a normal healthy life.
Anyways, I hope you all are doing well. Thanks for reading my little blurb.
xoxoxo
Now, ever since then, I have been hearing this voice that is telling me to cut myself and slit my wrists. Some of you may know that I would never have the idea to slit my wrists, I always overdose. This is really scary for me. It's not just my own voice, it is a very demanding male voice. A male voice that I do not recognize. I have a med review on Wednesday, and the doc upped my anti psychotic the other day. So, I am getting help.
I've been so suicidal lately, it's crazy and very scary. Though I can't overdose because TTI has me on a weekly medbox, which basically means I get my meds on a weekly basis instead of a monthly basis. So, that is a very good thing because I am determined to beat this. One day I will live a normal healthy life.
Anyways, I hope you all are doing well. Thanks for reading my little blurb.
xoxoxo
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