Thankfully, I seem to have calmed a bit on day two, save for a nasty little breakdown due to being overwhelmed during a group. It was supposed to be a relaxation group, but it involved rubbing on and over my joints, which since I was already a pile of nerves, hurt like a mofo.
Then they tried to take my vitals while I was upset and crying. Automatic blood pressure monitors are a special sort of hell for me. It squeezes too tight right over a trigger point, and then keeps squeezing. So yeah, not useful.
Anyway, here’s Day Two. Thank you for the kind words here and on FB.
So, I had a breakdown this morning. More and their sounds and this group I wasn’t ready for.
I don’t want to touch myself. It doesn’t bring me any comfort, only pain. Rubbing hurts. I don’t want to do groups. I want 1 on 1 or maybe 1 on 2. I’m comfortable like that.
Don and Jodi and Brianne came by for a visit. Don brought me stuff – more clothes, notepads (with skulls!!), pens. He was supposed to bring my fleece, but I said “skulls” when I meant spiders, so I got a pair of skull pj pants. With drawstrings.
So can’t even wear them*. Oh well.
I’ll ask for my shawl next time.
And mouthwash. My mouth feels stank.
And denture tablets.
I asked for forgiveness because I’ll be missing out on SWW. Everyone says that’s fine, but I kinda wished I hung on a lot longer – a week. Do the thing, then break apart.
It would have been bad, though. I’m not in a good place to do the talky thing, even though I’m an “expert”. And social stuff? Nah.
Pity. I wanted to Hiba and hang with Desiree Schell and meet Heina’s hubby. He’s got fibro too. We could commiserate.
Jodi was awesome. I found an article about dog behavior and that got her going.
Brianne got me a stuffy.
A Beanie baby.
It’s a snail.
The eyes are weird, like Derpy Hooves. Charming.
I don’t know what to name it though.
T.O.P, the hottest dork ever?**
G-Dragon, it’s weird like that.
Or XiuXiu the pink wonder.
I think we have a winner.
Wrote it on its tummy.
I got Ioz*** today. It doesn’t have any Kpop on it, but I’m happy to have familiar sounds. Calming.
Also, earplugs. Earplugs are saving what little sanity I have left.
The silence is so soothing right now. My mind is free to have its thoughts. I can be in my head again. It’s nice.
Dorky little XiuXiu. I think I like that.
Too small for a cuddle, though. Might ask Don for my bigger IKEA heart.
The food is standard cafeteria fare. And I’ve eaten every meal. In my room. It’s nice to have this peace white I eat. I miss it.
Got stuck for blood today. I’m gonna start calling my veins “The Humbler”, capable of sending even the most confident phlebotomist into rethinking their trade. Didn’t help that I was terribly dehydrated either. Four sticks. Some digging. I had needles.
Pissed in a cup. Dark yellow. Wasn’t hydrated.
Now thought? I’m practically full of water. They’re good at that.
NO MORE AUTO BP!!
Especially when you’re panicking.
Also, there’s an order to keep me alone for now. Also earplugs and headphones.
I got books. I started reading the Complete Sherlock Holmes, Vol. Two, but Don brought me Eric and Zahra’s books. Galley Proof is delightful. I feel so bad that his other surgery fucked him over. I wish nothing but hope and happiness for him and T.J.
Asked Don to bring a copy of TLW****. Might as well figure out how Patch is doing by reading up on what I’ve done to him already.
Weird! I’m chatty in here, but can’t even maintain eye contact outside. I’m weird.
Oh, some doc spoke to me about pain management. Pool therapy and massage and acupuncture.
If another person suggests anything acu- to me, I might scream. This is a hospital. Give me real medicine!!
Talked to nurse-practitioner-shrink as well. No one gets why I’m weird with sounds. Maybe autistic or Asperger’s? Dunno.
I’m off the Adderall and the Prozac. We’re trying other shit. I’m also losing M___. Fuck him.
How do you look at someone obviously in distress and just…let them go?
With a survey to inform you of how they feel about their care?
I wanna sue. Heartless fucker.
Men from the Midwest should be banned from psycho- medicine giving unless they’re very, very gay. Like my old shrink.
So, screw him. I’m ready to listen to those who will hear me out, banter with me, take a joke.
So, screening. Don’t know what they’ll find, but it involves the World’s Longest Scantron Test. I think both the SAT and the ACT were shorter than this monster – 520 questions! And some were just hilarious I laughed a lot.
“Do you fell hopeless?” HA!
“Have you recently thought about killing yourself?” HA!
And all the sex questions! My asexual ass was not having that. Though I got a good chortle out of the freaky sex question.
Even though I’m ace.
There’s apparently more to do tomorrow, so that’ll be fun.
More tests, more talking, less freakouts?
I’m down to one nail on my right hand, btw.
They want me to set goals every day. Don’t even know what’s that about. My goal? You tell me. I can’t adult right now.
Except I have to. I’ll lose my benefits so I’ll have to call the state and then let my legal people know what’s going on.
Maybe I can stay here forever. They bring me food and make sure I take my meds. They check on me. I don’t have to think right now.
Maybe this is where I belong. In an institution. It’s safe here, unless it involves groups.
I hate people.
They smell weird and speak too loud.
But yeah, can’t stay here forever. I miss my bed and my cats and my man. I miss the Internet like a missing limb. What’s going on in the world? Outside of the fucking local newspaper? Have my favorite blogs updated? How are my online friends? How’s music? Did a new song come out?
I’m missing updates on Jimquistion and Steve Shives, and reaction vids and WTFIWWY?
Those are my entertainment. Not TV and Comedy Central and fucking Adam Sandler movies.
Ugh. I feel snobby, but for fuck’s sake, can a bitch get some WWW up in here?
*There’s a long list of things visitors can’t bring and drawstrings are on it for obvious reasons.
**The listed are all Kpop stars I like a lot. I link to gifs so you can at least know what they look like. You’re welcome for the eye candy.
***My iPod Touch. I name my stuff, doesn’t everyone?
****My first novel. No, I won’t link to it.