It’s been a while…

It’s been a while.

Since I last wrote, I had a surgery to remove the scar tissue from my uterus.  During my recovery, in response to the hormones I was taking, and a combination of life related stressors, I suffered a pretty intense nervous break down, and had to take several months off of work to seek treatment for my mental health.

It was a wild ride, involving the mistreatment and neglect of medical professionals.  I was hospitalized three times within a month time span, at the same facility,  and while I had suffered a psychotic episode at the beginning of the crisis, most of the subsequent treatment that I sought was directly due to the fact that I was being over medicated in a manner that made it pretty much impossible for me to function with any normalcy.  I couldn’t sleep.  I was shaking and drooling, and my body was constantly in  an restless state.  My legs wouldn’t stop moving, and my body ached from constantly slamming my heels into the floor out of nervousness.

I agreed to go home twice from the hospital and be released back into my home, while attending an intensive outpatient program.  Both times, I was being medicated so heavily that I wasn’t able to really operate a vehicle.  I would try to sit in the 6 hours of classes each day, but I was so tired, and spaced out, and I just kept asking for medical attention, No one would really address the medication I was taking immediately, and I knew it was making me worse.  I felt crazy, because in both inpatient and outpatient treatment they assigned patients to take classes about psych meds.  Each time I took one of these classes, I just heard all of my side effects being repeated, and I felt so exasperated.  I had a PhD level pharmacist explaining how these medications were working against me, and my doctor just refused to listen.

I explained repeatedly, that although they were treating me with a bipolar diagnosis, I had in fact just suffered a psychotic episode due to a hormonal imbalance.  I definitely have major depressive disorder, as well as generalized anxiety disorder, but until this point in my life, this had all been relatively well managed with minor anti-depressants.  All of a sudden I was being given anti-psychotics, sedatives, and honestly in the state of panic and distress I was in, it was hard to keep track of how much of which medications they were giving me, and how often they were changing it.  I felt like I needed to be consciously aware of how I was being treated, but the medication I was given made it near impossible to do this.

I agreed to my third time in the hospital with the agreement that I would get a new doctor.  Thankfully this request was honored.  She listened to what I was saying, and she agreed to take me off my some of the meds that were effecting me the worst.  It was also agreed at this time, that I shouldn’t be released into my home again at this time, but instead I should do into a residential treatment facility.

That experience was certainly one that I could talk about for a long time.  While I felt extremely frustrated with some of the conditions at the facility, as well as some of the staff’s behaviors, and the programming, I think this was a decent transitional space for me to exist in.  I was lucky enough to have had the support of my best friend to help advocate from me after the third hospitalization, and with her assistance as well as the support  of Charles and the rest of my family, I was able to somewhat stabilize on my medication, and come back home.  At the time my mom and dad were in town, and my sister also came.

I don’t think I would have been able to acclimate back to life as easily without my sister. I know I wouldn’t have.  I needed clear direction, and guidance.  I needed someone who could listen to me start to meltdown and start redirecting me to take more concrete actions that would help me move forward, rather than hold me back in a place of frustration and exasperation.  She stayed with me for a month or so.  During this time I realized that she needed the time with me, just as much as I needed the time with her, and it felt healing to reconnect with her, and to start feeling like I really could start being myself again.

During the time I came back home, and my sister was helping me out, I also attended a really excellent outpatient program in which I felt like I was able to gain a lot of clarity, and start really understanding that I could have control of my reactions to my emotions, rather than letting them control me.  I felt like I was able to relate to others in the program, and to be vulnerable about what I had been through.  The routine of going to the program everyday was good for me, as I began to establish other good habits like exercising in the morning, as well as eating healthier and regularly.

Eventually, with some struggle, I was able to get a doctor to agree to release me to go back to work, which had been something major looming over my head.  I went back to work, and continued to attend the outpatient program for a few weeks.  I was honestly pretty exhausted and overwhelmed, but I felt like I was really what I needed to, to take care of myself, and that felt good.

It’s been just under 11 months since I returned to work, and things “went back to normal.”

Due to recent events in my life, I have kind of realized that during the last two years since the miscarriage, I have done a lot of internal processing of all the events that have happened, and in some ways, even though I have shared a lot with certain people in my life, I have kind of shut others out.

My relationship with Charles has really suffered during this time.  I don’t know why, but I think as some point I has just resolved to being with him, but also really being alone. I found myself unable to express my true emotions, and frustrations, and just constantly afraid that any conversation would lead to confrontation and disagreement, and I honestly just felt I didn’t have the energy for that.

In the past two weeks, after a relational crisis point, Charles and I have taken some time to be honest with each other.  After one conversation with had with each other, where we shared to many things, I found myself feeling like I hadn’t really talked to him openly and honestly for years.  It’s a little mind blowing, because it feels a bit like dating for the first time again, but there is so much history, and so much we have been through together, that it’s so much deeper that the initial infatuation of love.  We’ve been having super hopeful conversations, but also just being very honest with each other, and I can say for myself, that this just feels completely new.

And although there are hopeful conversations, and lots of meaningful connections, I find myself in an extremely heightened state of anxiety and unrest.  My mind is honestly at war with itself.  My heart says to be hopeful and grateful we’re both getting on the same page, but my rational mind says that I’ve been trying hard to make things work with people for years, and in the end I really could just wind up alone. A few weeks ago, when we hit out crisis point, my body and mind just went into panic mode, and while it seems conditions have improved immensely, there is still this adrenal part of me that is telling me to do something, ensure safety and health, and keep assessing the possibilities to see the best way to take care of everyone, and survive the situation.

On top of all of this, I decided in the last few months, that with the excitement and anticipation of meeting my niece in December, it’s finally time to move back to the east coast.  And even though I thought it might take a bit longer, it’s seems like things are actually happening that are going to make it a possibility very soon.  That’s an emotional mind fuck in and of itself.  This has been my home for 18 years now, and I have such a great friend group here, and I want this more than I have wanted most things for a long time, but I just don’t see things slowing down or getting any easier anytime soon.

I want to be open and vulnerable about what I have been through, am going through, and am about it go through, and I want to start sharing again.  In an attempt to just get myself out there, and use this as a space to heal and grow, I decided to focus a bit less an perfection and branding, and a lot more time on just putting myself out there again, becoming more comfortable and confident sharing myself with others, and trying to learn to laugh at myself again.

I hope to pursue creativity, storytelling, podcasting, and many many things at some point, and I would love to share the journey with anyone with is interested.  I want to represent myself authentically and honestly to foster connection and openness with others, and to prevent isolation.

I am sharing my story, because it’s what happened and it happening, and it makes me stronger and who I am. It feels good to share again.