It’s been exactly four weeks since I was discharged and I haven’t updated this blog since! I’ve kind of been operating under the assumption that nobody was reading it anymore since I can no longer just shamelessly advertise it to any staff who will listen. It was kind of a sad day and I missed Dr. X. I had a doctor’s appointment in the big city so someone from the group home was kind enough to drive me. Unfortunately, he was the very worst driver I’ve ridden with aside from the time my mother’s mother insisted on driving us into town to prove that she didn’t need her license revoked. I was absolutely terrified the whole time and I wanted Dr. X’s wise thoughts. BUT, I got through. I recognized that I was in a traumatic experience and powerless to do anything about it, and the best thing to do was probably to close my eyes and hope I was alive when it was over. We got home safely somehow, but now I have a new problem that I feel extreme apprehension whenever this staff member is in eyeshot, which would be less of a problem if he didn’t work 16+ hour days every day. He is the kindest man and me being unable to be within eyeshot or earshot of him is not going to be beneficial to me, so I have to figure out a plan.
But anyway, we got home and I thanked him for driving before bolting to my room. I emailed the house director a polite email saying that I was going through a hard time and needed some space so I would appreciate it if staff didn’t knock on my door. I reached out to my friends and they were amazing. I allowed myself to curl up in a ball in my bed for as long as I needed (which turned out to be two hours) and then emailed the house director again, this time sternly worded, explaining to him that my riding with that particular staff member again was not going to be an option. I’m still shaken up but no one was hurt, and I’m learning to deal with traumatic events better. It wasn’t until I’d been home for half an hour that I was grounded enough to cry, but previously I never would have cried.
In good news, a miracle occurred and I got a therapist and I’ve met with her once and she is lovely and I get to see her again tomorrow. Honestly the whole group home thing is working out much better than I had feared. It’s nice to have people around and I think I’m someone who should never live alone. I find the other residents very difficult to relate to because the nature of their difficulties is different from mine, but it’s good to have people around. I enrolled in a certificate program at the local community college and I’m hoping to get back to work early next year and find some roommates to live with in the spring. I have completely neglected to work on my book even though I think about it a lot. I start day treatment again tomorrow, which I’m excited about because I know the clinicians. And generally I’m just constantly amazed at how much easier life is now compared to before I went to the hospital. It’s been a month and I haven’t had a single crisis. I have had things externally like being forced to ride in a vehicle with an incompetent driver, but I feel like I can respond to those things in a healthy way.
I would write more but I’m tired. If you read this, you’re my hero! Leave a message in the comments; I’d.love to hear from you.
