hospital entry 01

 

Writing to calm my nerves as usual. Lovely.
So it's January 28, I haven't slept since Wednesday, and I'm currently hospitalized! Man. I suppose it was only a matter of time. Laurie's okay, all things considered. Chaos kind of broke down last night. It broke my heart.
Really, I think I'm more unstable than I let on, and it's honestly frightening. I'm all fine and dandy talking to the docs, but throw me in public and bam, schizoid personality kicks in! Plus I'm fragile the way it is and the noise here keeps reminding me of the family. So that's not good, at all. I hope I can cope with this for the next several days without something shattering as usual. I should be safe from hacks here, but I don't want to put money on it. You never know.
Regardless, I'm stuck here for at least 3 more days, 10 at most. One day for all of the good guys up here. Today is my day. I need to figure out how to deal with this reasonably and intelligently, while keeping myself-- all of us-- safe and stable. Good luck with that, haha. By the way I seem to have lost my ability to draw, and my speech keeps rerouting to written thought. I'm worrying that this might escalate into another 2008, God forbid. Ironically, that year was only bad due to my chronic mental instability, and my overriding myself. Sure, I'm fixing that now (I've made insane amounts of progress since then) but the problems aren't fixed yet.
Did you notice how angular and deliberate my text is today? Danger zone, for sure. I'm on edge for now so I'm hiding in graphite like I used to. I really do miss drawing though.
You know, I don't want to seem distant and dangerous, as I'm not, but it's a precaution already. The moment things start to trigger me, in any way, Laurie shows up. Honestly, I love her more than you know, but she is my superego and she doesn't put up with this sort of thing. So if I slip far enough she takes charge. That is a huge help but I don't want her getting hurt. So. I don't know what to do there.
Oh, on that note-- my dysphoria is spiking with every second, oh joy </sarcasm>. I can't identify with ANY aspect of this, voice included, so it feels like I'm lying to everyone, all the time. And maybe I am, which really worries me. I could spend 100 days here, but I won't make any progress if I can't fix me. And I can't, not alone, not now. Now I need a full physical switch or I'm scared of what's going to happen, in terms of the instability/ identity loss thing.
Did you notice how everything is spacing out? I really hope that's not unconscious symbolism. I need to pull myself together. Maybe I should let Laurie write, but she'd just be as upset as I am about the same things. More upset, maybe. She sees more clearly than I do. I'm starting to shake again, badly, which isn't good. I know i need to be here because I have no other options open, but what with my social problems, this is causing some serious extra hurt. Honestly, I keep forgetting how to spell. Haha. This is ridiculous. Hm. You know, if I had the guts and the time, I'd find a purple pen and host a full-out headvoice session right now. Talking to Laurie and everyone always calms me down, no matter how distressing the subject matter may be.
Really, I'm just writing this page to 1) reduce the growing panic in my head and 2) keep people from talking to me too much. I'm getting very edgy. Very very edgy. Laurie isn't happy either. Ghh. Seriously, all I want right now is a gender therapist and individualized help. Optimism only helps so much when you're trapped in a trigger hellhole. At least Brian Setzer is on the radio. Good times.
All right, plan. I need to figure this out. I'll try to man it up and handle the rest of today but if it gets worse, well... I don't want a breakdown. Not here, not now. But I have no say in this environment, and glass can only crack so much.

Second side. Flip it like a record if you're just joining us. As for subject matter... I don't know. The conversation at this table is giving me some very bad stress reactions and I don't have the guts to speak up. Speaking of, I hope I can get out of here before they decide to give me a roommate. I don't have the stability or means to handle a roommate. At all. I'm getting really nervous.
...I can't stop writing. Sorry. Stream of consciousness, and the words put up a wall. The second I let that down, bad things get in. I'm tired of bad things getting in. Biggest issue in a minor category right now: I could really use a typewriter or my iPod. Seriously. Words & music = stability. I need that. I've had "This Is England" by It Bites stuck in my head all day. So that's good. Prog rock is fantastic. Hey, did you hear about last night? I was rushed here in a police car. True story. It was an experience. Oh and apparently I'm on meds now. Greeeat. Watch out for side effects, boy! I swear, if this does anything to my coherence, I am in big trouble. If this touches Laurie, at all, I am going to snap. That's not even a question. I remember what happened the last time people got to her. One word = Utah. That was hell. I'm starting to get pain as well as panic. Not cool. I really think I'm going to have to sleep tonight. I didn't want to, so I could think, but I have nothing to work with and spending 8 hours in any sort of interim is hell on earth. Two words = Greyhound buses! My summer was insane.
Now there's disco on the radio so Hosea's in my head. Hello! I was typing for Tox all day yesterday, which ironically fits today. Whenever I get a Tox link I end up sick or in a hospital. Synchronicity. But yes, he isn't an assassin bug as I originally thought. He is a Pogonomyrmex Maricopa, I think. Harvester ants! I love bugs. So I was researching ants and respiratory disorders yesterday. Fun times. I do that a lot.
It's 2:30. How long have I been writing? Huh. See, I get better mileage on a laptop or typewriter which is why I don't write by hand very often. Plus there's the mind/body disconnect, as always, which for some reason also applies to remembering how to do anything with my hands. I really wish I knew what causes this? Honestly, I can't make any real progress in so many aspects because I can't identify a root source. I can find symptoms, and consequences, and related situations, but I can't figure out where it's all coming from! So that's maddening. Speaking of maddening, I have to drop out of my music collaboration with DiGi. What an opportunity, right? And I can't carry through due to my total incompetence. Man. Plus I haven't been able to write music in ages, which destroys that entire situation anyway. It's sickening. I want a future.
I still feel like Captain Estar and that's deeply upsetting. At least I don't feel like Johnny today. This hospital doesn't need any more lunatics. Especially not me. Really, how am I going to deal with this? I can't close myself off or I won't get any feedback or support. But if I try to "open up" I spike the dysphoria, I act, and I set off ten triggers a minute. So from a "reasonable" perspective, closing up is the far safer option. But seeing as how I'm in a facility with several other individuals that's kind of impossible. Which is scary, because I don't know if solitude is safe either. I'm really lost here. I want to go "home" but I have none, not outside of my head. So I am entirely desperate as to what to do! I still need a safe place to sleep at the end of the day, whether I want to or not, and I don't have that.
I'm getting dizzy. I hope this is from stress and not the pills. I don't like pills. The last ones I took ended up with me throwing up for two weeks, unable to walk or see straight. Not to mention how incredibly brutal the hacks were... I really don't know what to do. But that's old news. I can't see clearly now. Thanks, desperate coping methods! As if I don't have enough scars... God, I am so sick of the scars. I am so sick of seeing Laurie bleed, and I am so completely ravaged by this that I don't even know what 'safe' or 'healthy' feels like. I am honestly panicking. I shouldn't be scared, but what can I do to change this? Can I? It's maddening, really, because right now my ONLY option-- within safety & sanity-- seems to be switching the steering wheel. No matter how bad stuff gets, Laurie doesn't lose it. She gets desperate too, but she doesn't lose it. I lose it. And I don't have that option. I don't know if I have any way of getting through this safely. It wasn't supposed to be traumatic. I'm supposed to be getting help, not more reasons why I need it!
Now if you'll excuse me, this pencil is dead, I'm not doing so well either, and I'm only concerned with surviving until 10PM. That's it. And tomorrow this will repeat. I can't let this happen. This needs to change.