well my week or so has included being discharged from a php(partial hospital program), attending an emotional wearing/ spirtually encouraging conference, pulling out vla and using him for worship, and various meetings explaining to me DMH(department of mental health)/Mass Rehab/Goodwill ect.
it was a bit hard hearing from my therapist that i crossed the line from "normal" to needing to be on DMH and seeking state services, but knowing that i haven't fought this fight in vain and getting out of Steadman household territory is a goal that's more reach able in the near future. i know i have to have much more of a fire lit under my ass to fill out applications and such. i need to find out how much i do need to fill out those aps and how much i need to rely on those interviews ect for dmh, goodwill, and mass rehab.
anyways, tomorrow may include a trip to the unemployment office despite all the nice folks i'm meeting.also included in tomorrows mundane adventures, an oil change and filler up o'my dad's truck, a possible filing for section 8 housing, a glance through roommate postings, and the hope to wake up on time and say something worthy of therapy in my therapist session.
peace...i think i'm feeling it a little more :)
Sunday, March 9, 2008
there's an old addage i repeatedly hear in every recovery program i've survived.
you are not your illness.
yet as i recover from another verbal exchange with my mom and since she holds the keys to the place i lay my head i honestly can't tell wether or not she sees me as elizabeth her daughter or bipolar 1.
there's a lot of recovery i'm going through now and as my eyes glance over my last post i relize i have a long way to go.
i'm kinda emotionally feeling some of the pain in bearable incriments of the abuse of not even being told why i was locked up in Ft. Smith, or the fact that Sgt. Dallas abandoned me and i couldn't accept it right away recovering in St. Vincents in Little Rock.
to let people know i wrote the Dallas a final communique just asking for some items to be returned...i fully expect it to be ignored...but it was almost some closure to whatever happend as well. i never want to go back to ft smith...but i will miss some neighbors who were supportive and cool to the native new englander out of her element.
there's a lot of stories to be told about my excersion from Salem, Ma...but right now i'm just thankful to have a bed...clothes...food that i like to eat... and the prospects of reclaiming a functional existance (despite being in NE).
like i said there's still a lot to recover from. but i have a therapist, and thank you Jesus for being back on some medications. i know it's weird to thank Jesus for things like lithium, but just being in an era where the hospital stay at Mclean is now just about a week or so to get stable on chemicals i wake and take or take before sleep, as opposed to the fact it used to take months and scenes like those out of One who Flew over the Cuckoos Nest. i really don't think i need a lombotomy thanks.