One of my biggest pet-peeves is when someone calls me something I’m not, like when someone calls me “manic”.  I do not have bi-polar, I have depression.  I’m highly creative and I talk a lot, but that doesn’t mean I am manic.  I have severe anxiety, but I’m not manic.  I know what mania is – I’ve seen it in so many other people, from my mother to people in the hospital setting. 

I’m under an extreme amount of stress right now, which has resulted in sleeping problems.  I want and need sleep, but toss and turn all night long.  I’m very good at using my coping skills during the daytime, but at night — I get easily overwhelmed and almost paralyzed. 

I’m trying to prepare for residential treatment at Mercy Ministries.  I’m also still getting used to NOT BEING IN THE HOSPITAL, as I was discharged less than 30 days ago, after spending almost 6 months there for psychiatric reasons.  My family life is horrible.  My folks are always arguing, I’m an adult living with her parents again (after moving out and being on my own for years), and I’m trying to live a healthier life.  I still have so much progress left to make and I’m really excited about going to Mercy, but I don’t know how long I’ll have to wait until a bed becomes available in their St. Louis home. 

I know myself and I know my symptoms.  I’m taking my medicine as prescribed.  I don’t drink too much caffeine (except on special occassions), I have a set routine and schedule.  I talk a lot, so what??  I don’t have trouble concentrating and I haven’t lost interest in activities.  I can sit down and stay focused.  I’m not isolating myself and I’m actively seeking out additional treatment, such as personal counseling and online support.  I keep in close touch with my support system and I’m starting to give back to others, which is a huge step in recovery — “paying it forward”.  I don’t exercise as much as I should, so I’m going to start addressing that problem at 6am tomorrow morning!  The only time the weather is cool enough to walk where I live is early morning and I’m an early riser anyway.  Tomorrow morning, I’m going for a good walk. 

I just hate it when people claim they know me better than I know myself.  I’m an adult.  I’ve gone through a lot of treatment already for my issues and I’ve agreed to get more help.  I think my family wants me to be more like them, but I don’t want to be like them – they are abusive and ill.  They are not a healthy influence for me.  They drink and don’t take medication as they should for their health/ mental health conditions, they have unhealthy communication tactics and love to lie and manipulate as much as possible.  I hate being around them, but right now…  I have no other choice.  I’m not healthy enough YET to live on my own.  I’m making the steps to change this as I type, but the changes aren’t happening fast enough.

I needed to vent and thanks for reading and listening…  I am determined not to self-injure.  I haven’t hurt myself since at least a week before discharge, which would put me at around 5 weeks.  I don’t like to really keep track of the days, as that tends to make me focus on something insignificant (time) – rather than focusing on day-to-day living (quality).