Archive for the ‘mental-health’ Tag

Because hallucinations are ~hilarious~   Leave a comment

So Deb was out of the hospital, and now she’s back in the hospital. But today they decided that she was doing well enough that they could take her breathing tube out, if her family agreed. Deb is sick of having the tube out, so James agreed, provided that someone in the family was there. Since I got off work at noon, I volunteered to go to the hospital.

I showed up around 3:00, and they removed the tube at 3:10. It went swimmingly. At least I assume it went swimmingly. Once the respiratory specialists showed up to take the tube out, I was ushered out of the room. I chatted with a nurse about a new movie theater in town, but mostly I just stood in the lobby of the ICU, trying not to look casual. The room next to Deb’s has way comfier-looking chairs than the ones in Deb’s room. I plotted.

Anyway, the tube removal went swimmingly. I took out my book of word puzzles and a pencil and began working on a puzzle.

After a few minutes, Deb began murmuring. I went to her. Because of the damage from the breathing tube, her voice was really shallow and hushed; I could only pick out a few words. I finally managed to get “forgot the handle” out of her. It sounded medicalish, so I went and found a nurse.

“She’s saying something about a handle?”

The nurse went to investigate. She listened carefully, then finally:

“Ma’am, where do you think you are?”

Deb whispered an answer.

“Well you’re at the hospital. You’re in your hospital bed.” The nurse produced her staff badges as proof. Deb studied them, and reluctantly agreed that she was, indeed, in the hospital, and not at her friend’s house. The nurse smiled and said that James would arrive soon. The nurse told me that, as Deb was getting off of the sedatives, she was going to be a bit loopy. Whenever she got like this, we just had to explain nicely that she was in the hospital and that everything was okay.

So Deb coughed and moved her hands from her lap to her mouth, and I did word puzzles. I checked on her toes to make sure they were covered up (they were), and I brought her tissues and a washcloth when she asked. I also had to keep pulling the sleeves of her gown up, to keep her modesty.

I looked up from my word puzzles one time to see her gesturing at the remote on her lap. It was a TV remote, but it also had the giant red button asking for a nurse. It’s plugged into the room.

I struggled my aching body up and went to her.

“They can take the plate away now,” she said.

There was no plate. Deb hasn’t had solid food for days. Surely I had misheard. I leaned in closer and asked her to repeat what she had said.

“The waited can take the plate away, I’m done with it.”

“Uh, Deb,” I said, “You’re in the hospital. You don’t have a plate.”

Deb gestured at the remote and said, “I don’t care if it’s a paper plate. They need to take the plate away, I’m done with it.”

“That’s the remote.”

Deb stared at me.

“James will be here soon,” I said, as much to myself as to her.

I had difficulty looking at her for a while, I was so embarrassed over how I handled her hallucinations. When I looked up, she was carrying on a conversation with the wall. She didn’t seem to need anything, and indeed seemed quite happy, so I buckled down and focused on my work puzzle.

When I looked up again, Deb was staring at me. She was wide-eyed. She looked…concerned? Panicked?

I hopped up as quickly as my stupid body would let me, and hobbled over to her. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Who’s giving you a ride home?” Deb asked. “Are you riding home with me or James?”

I sucked in my breath. I was supposed to remind her that she was hallucinating, but I really couldn’t do it. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “James and I came in separate cars. I drove myself here, so I’ll drive myself home. James isn’t even here, but he’ll be here soon. You just get some rest.”

Deb nodded and went back to coughing and dabbing at her mouth. She started drifting in and out of sleep.

I texted Lacey and asked if it was okay that I found Deb’s hallucinations funny. I wasn’t laughing, but I thought it was pretty funny anyway. But they shouldn’t be funny, right? She was hallucinating. Lacey replied that it was okay to use humor to deal with stress. Deb would probably find it funny, too, once she was all better.

Finally James did show up. He checked up on Deb, talked with the nurse, helped Deb get comfy, then helped me finish my word puzzle. We chatted about how she had been for the past few hours. I took off the ace bandage on my ankle, and we reapplied it while we explained to Deb that I had sprained it. And somehow I started talking about how my sisters are doing and how Katie and I are going to take our children to art museums.

Deb murmured something. James immediately went to check on her. He leaned in and listened.

“Who’s Kevin?” he asked.

“Kelsey’s wife,” said Deb.

“Uh,” said James.

Eventually Deb’s sister, Lynette, showed up, and James and I went to dinner. When we returned, I left, as I had been at the hospital for five hours, it was 8:00, and I had been up since 3:30AM.

I said goodbye to Deb.

“Don’t hurt yourself at work,” she said.

“No more wild parties,” I told her.

I stepped out of the room.

“So Deb says you’re three months pregnant,” said Lynette.

We laughed.

Posted February 21, 2016 by agentksilver in Personal

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Updates updates   Leave a comment

1) I have an appointment for this Thursday with a Cognitive Behavioral Therapist
2) I have an appointment the following Wednesday with my primary care doctor

The laundry is still where it is. I will eventually pick it up.

I was considering auditioning for a play next week. I was looking forward to the audition. I love and miss theatre, and it would be a good opportunity for me to meet new people. I did as well as I was in 2013/2014 because I was surrounded by loving family and friends, and it’s easy to forget how upset you are when you’re surrounded by love. But I was distracted, I think. Even when I was talking about it to my doctor, I told her about my annual March breakdowns and she said that was still the same depression, still omnipresent.

I’m having something similar to my March breakdown. So I’ll be fine soon.

Anyway, I decided not to audition because:

1) I’m in one D&D campaign and running another one (speaking of which, I’ve missed two updates! I need to do that soon)
2) I’m planning a wedding
3) I work closing shifts several days a week

Especially with Point #3, I just don’t think theatre is realistic for me right now. Ah well. I’ll live. I’m applying to UNC soon. That’ll be fun. And I’m distracting myself more and more with dollhouse room layouts. Stairs are complicating everything. Complications are good.

Posted August 1, 2015 by agentksilver in Personal

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A good day   Leave a comment

There’s an ever-increasing pile of laundry at the foot of my end of the bed. It started out small, just a few pieces of underwear and socks, remnants of a few days. It’s growing bigger and bigger, as each week goes by and James does more and more laundry, and I continue to not put it away. I know I should put it away. Every time I see it I think about putting it away. But that would take minutes. Several minutes. Minutes that could be spent on other things, like hiding under a blanket and feeling terrible.

Depression is an obsession turned inwards. Some people are obsessed and begin collecting, like that one former neighbor of James. Or they are obsessed with a certain ritual, like washing their hands or passing a threshold a certain way. Sometimes they are obsessed with a person, like that one lady who was an extra in that zombie film I was in. She was obsessed with Marilyn Manson.

When I was nine years old, I was sitting in the living room after school watching cartoons. Suddenly something went off. It was like a lightbulb in my head or something. I can’t get rid of it. For nineteen years now.

the thing

I’ll sit there and I have to flick my eyes like that. Four to the right, two to the left, three down, two up. And of course if you flick your eyes one way to have to flick it back and so you have to start the whole process over again. It hurts if you don’t. I don’t know what exactly hurts. I have to do it physically too. Even as I’m typing this I have to twitch my pinkies if I feel off-balance. If I type too much with my left hand or something, I have to twitch my right pinkie four times to fix it.

To be honest I have never, ever talked about this because I feel it is genuinely something insane about me.

But depression is an obsession with feeling negative about yourself. So this pile of laundry grows (waves her thumbs four and two) and I won’t do anything about it (twitches her thumb knuckles three and two) and I won’t do anything about it. Maybe because I need to feel bad about myself. Every time I look at that pile of laundry, I think, aha, look, there’s proof that you’re terrible, you won’t even put your laundry away. Like my mind feeds on that negativity. (four and two, four and two, four and four) (one two three)

Sometimes lately I’ll be working and all the sudden the thought will pop into my head: Aren’t you tired? Yes, I am tired. All the sudden I’ll feel absolutely exhausted and I’ll literally sigh out loud from how tired I feel all the sudden.

There was a list of things I was going to do today:

1) Work from 6:30-12:15
2) Take a shower
3) Eat lunch
4) Refill prescription
5) Call doctor, confirm time with therapist
6) Read, take a nap
7) Work from 5:00-10:00

Today I:

1) Worked from 6:30-11:45
2) Ate lunch
3) Paid student loan
4) Took a shower
5) Read
6) Worked from 5:00-10:00

Today was a good day nonetheless. I think because I read in the middle of it. A good day.

(pokes to the right four times)

(flicks thumb down three, right four)

It is lovely to get messages from people saying that they love me but really the problem is that I’m having trouble loving myself. I should start by putting away that pile of laundry. Tomorrow though. Tomorrow I will put away that laundry.

Posted July 31, 2015 by agentksilver in Personal

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It’s not introspection because it’s all very superficial   2 comments

So, I have depression. This is a diagnosed thing. Depression. I have it.

Normally I flitter through life saying that I totally used to have depression but I don’t have it anymore, hahaha. And sometimes when I’m very stressed I’ll say that I’m a recovering depressed person, the same way a recovering alcoholic will always be a recovering alcoholic (haha family history). I try to push it behind me and say act like it’s all part of my past, that I’m not depressed anymore. But I am still depressed. It doesn’t way on me as heavily anymore, doesn’t affect all my actions every single day, but it’s still there, every day, like the world’s worst Instagram filter.

And then every few months it gets to me, particularly in March. I don’t want to do anything, ever, even though what I want to do is very easy. I got over depression the first time by always keeping in mind what my job is, in every single location. That works for most places. So I go to work and I work. I go to school and sit in a classroom and ask questions and take notes. But I can’t — I can’t be social. I will go to a classroom and not look at any other students, because no. I can’t. I will go to work and be friendly with customers, but then I’ll sit in the breakroom and keep a book up to my nose and not read the book. I will deliberately avoid visiting places where there will be nothing but sociality going on. I was really looking forward to that dance, depression, thanks.

This post is turning out a lot longer and more rambling than I intended.

A few nights ago I cried myself to sleep.

I’ve barely started on this paper due tomorrow. I’ve been saying for three days that I’ve been working on it in my room, but then I hide in my room and sit under the covers and stare at my bookshelves or my lizards. Or I’ll spend hours on imgur and facebook. Anything, really, to avoid the introspection that comes from writing. Even if I’m just thinking about my opinions on the Chinese Cultural Revolution, it’s too introspective. I don’t want to touch it.

Today I went on facebook and then flipped through my boyfriend’s timeline. I’m not sure why. That was going to be the main point of this entry, actually. I was going to laugh at myself for feeling insecure about him talking to other girls in 2007. I was going to post a picture like this:

Ahaha feminism exists somewhere.

Ahaha feminism exists somewhere.

Which I totally did anyway. But then I felt like talking about my feelings. And I can’t stop. I can’t stop writing about anything other than Chinese history. I can’t stop thinking about myself. All I want to say is horrible things about myself, like I’m ugly and not going to succeed in anything and I’m going to lose my boyfriend and I’m going to get fat and I’m not smart and nobody likes me and I’m not creative and I’m just a waste of resources on this earth. Sometimes I read about Laurence Oates and people like that and I wonder if I could really assess my life and do something like that. It’s not introspection. It’s just horrible obsessive thoughts, this weird OCD that makes me constantly need to control my actions by thinking hateful things about myself. Where is the line between vanity and pride? Where is the line between self-hatred and humility?