Posted 10/18/23
Recorded a few months before
I had been looking for a show to watch so there’s a bit of rambling about what I was watching. Heartstopper season 2 and started Young Royals.
Y’all, Y’all. I’m in some (redacted). I love me right? I thought at the beginning of this year, I did not need a partner ever again. And then I kinda dated a guy. It was a thing. Then I kinda had a partner. Like 6 of them. I can’t think.
Redacted
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I could deal. I like me! I like hanging out with me. I like going around town with me. I like sleeping.
No, I don’t. That’s a lie. I have very bad dreams. They’re awkward and creepy. And stick with me forever.
I had a dream that my friend’s mom had died of cancer. Probably because my mom had died of cancer.
Her daughter had just gotten married. And she was like “be my daughter.” And I was like “No!” But I kinda like pretended, because I’m a liar! (odd voice)
I just kinda let her be. Let her do her weird things. People tried to force adopt me a lot and I never thought it was chill. But I don’t know. How do you tell maternal people that you don’t need a mom?
That you have three. You have a dead mom. Who was still very much alive and don’t steal her place because you’ll never compare to her.
You had an aunt who sucked but was still there. Kinda
You had a brother who was teased about being your second mom. Before your actual second mom came, your aunt.
So then, don’t force me to accept me as my mother.
But I had a dream that lasted a year and a half. That’s not the longest. I’ve had ones that lasted 7 to 9 years.
But it was a long one and she was slowly dying of cancer. She was getting sick. Losing her hair.
I don’t think my mom lost her hair until like the last month of her life.
But she (the mom in my dream) started losing her hair. And then like her funeral. I don’t think I dreamt of her funeral. But her husband came to meeting and I gave him a big hug and was like “how ARE you?” after she died.
Um, so then I woke up. And someone mentioned them like that day or the next day. I had the dream like Monday or Tuesday. I saw her on Thursday and I almost cried. Like it would have been so weird if I just started balling at the hall. Like she was not died. In my head, she was sooo dead.
And I’ve had a lot of dreams. Really, really abusive, horrible dreams. And I’m like this is not real, is it? And after I wake up for like 5 or 10 minutes, I’m like “is that real? Is that my life? Is that the situation I’m in?”
And it’s really, really overwhelming and really scary. And I have had to straight up tell people “like can we talk? Because I had a bad dream and I just wanted to make sure we’re alright.”
So yeah, I do not like sleep.
But in very weak stages of my life, I’ve survived hell. Multiple times. Pause. Multiple times.
Redacted for someone who has BPD. Like sometimes I wonder if I even have BPD and then something like this happens. And like last time an FP left me. Well, they didn’t leave me. I left them actually. But anyway.
I was inpatient in the mental hospital. And there was this kid, like 20 and he just felt so comfortable. And this was after (redacted but probably a count of how many hospitals I’d been in that year). And I was just not (redacted, comfortable?) and I had my year plan. And I had attempted a couple times at this point. For the year. And I just, long pause. I just couldn’t. Exist.
And there was this girl and we were friends. And she was real chill. And then like I think I slept all day the day she left. And I didn’t get to say goodbye. And that really hurt. So then like that same day or the next day he came. And (redacted). It energized me. He was real chill. I don’t know if I felt this like immediately. I don’t know if this thing has a feeling. But he’s never been kissed. He’s never been sexual. And after my assaults. It was just very nice to be in masc company without being vulnerable. Or I could be vulnerable without being a victim. And we just talked and like (redacted).
I think it was my second week there. Or like it was my second week but my second or third time being in the facility. In a couple months. Okay, so this is just going to be a story time. Because it’s like 7 minutes in and there’s a lot more to say.
But um, I. I met him on Thursday. And I made the mistake (playing Marry, Kiss, Kill, which is a great game to play inpatient. It is a great game because it never ends. And I think the main rule should be don’t talk about the people there. You can go back so many years and there’s so many celebrities. Thousands.).
So tell me why this douchebag who had the audacity to tell me. He was like “humor is great when you are depressed. Like I am the funniest person at this table. And I have the most trauma.” And I was like “excuse me sir. Excuse me.”
Why are we rating people’s trauma? I don’t think he should have said that. I don’t compare my own trauma to other ones of my traumas. Don’t you dare compare my trauma. You don’t know anything about my story. You don’t compare it to her. You don’t compare it to them. No. Don’t. No.
So like I was really upset. And I was like. Like in my head, the number one reason, not saying anything, I’m comparing my own traumas again and I shouldn’t. But he was there because he was depressed. LONG pause. Several seconds. A minute. A minute and a half.
Um, depression sucks. I think, Bipolar type 2, BPD, and chronic depression. I don’t know if they still say I have chronic depression because of the other ones. But if I also have chronic depression with those two things. It means that some people with BPD and Bipolar have mania, full mania.
It means that people either have full mania, or I call it contentment for Bipolar type 2. It’s not as intense as Bipolar type 1. But maybe I don’t know. Maybe I just have really chill Bipolar type 2. BPD is intense emotions. You’re 100 everything. You’re 100 scared, 100 happy, 100 sad, you’re 100.
If I have BPD, Bipolar 2 and chronic depression, that means compared to people who have (redacted), I am even more often depressed. My happy state (I hate the word happy. I don’t like the word happy. I use content.), my content state is still depressed. I can be content, and then like if I just died right now or tomorrow. If I just didn’t wake up, whatever. Depression sucks!
But having been inpatient like 16 times now, no like 13. Having been inpatient 13 times, the time when I was depressed. My first inpatient stay in 2019 when I was depressed. Vs at that point I had had 5 attempts. In my life, 5 attempts in less than 3 years. I’d been assaulted, I’d been in toxic relationships.
Yes he is 8 years older than me. Yes he was a soldier. Yes, he learned how to drink his own pee. Does not matter. To rank depression and then say like he’s the most depressed person at the table. My depressed stay and my 5 times tried to kill myself stay were completely different.
There were times when I (redacted) for no reason other than life was hell. And he was like “I killed people.” and I’m like “I tried to kill the most important person in my entire life. Have you done that yet?” And again, maybe his trauma is bigger than mine. Maybe he’s the worst off person in the entire planet. Which I don’t believe in. I think in your entire life, you’ve probably been the most depressed person in the world. BPD is intense emotions all the time. You’re 100.”
Anyway he hinted at it so much for the next day that the kid figured out.
Spectrum. There are 8 billion people on the planet. You have either been bottom 4 billion or top 4 billion. It’s just. That’s how life is. So no one has the right to say that they are the most anything. Ever. the most of you ever in your life. Sure. But don’t compare yourself to a single other person.
Anyway, this guy has the audacity to ask, who in the room out of all the guys, ignoring the fact that I’m pan and ace, who out of all the guys in the room, would I want to fuck.
And my stupid brain said this kid. I was not attracted to him. I was not attracted to anyone in that room. But because of my assaults, I knew that he would not do that. That he would be…. I almost said lover. Ew. I don’t even want to think of him in that term. And I didn’t mean to. It was just. It was just…. me being blunt. I’m always blunt. And I always answer and I shouldn’t always answer. And I tell the truth. But, even though I’m a pathological liar. I’m not a pathological liar. That’s like an actual disorder. But I’m such a liar. And then I tell the truth. And I don’t understand why.
Sometimes I can tell the truth. And sometimes I can lie. And I can’t do it at the times I actually need to.
I should have just been like “you. What are you going to do about it?”
So then he hinted at it for the next day and a half so much that the kid figured out. And then I had to have a sitdown moment by myself Friday night and be like why do I want to be around him. Like I was like, like I said I’d been asleep the last 5 or 6 days. For like 17 hours a day. I was missing all my meals. I was only waking up for my meds. They had taken away my morning meds which probably didn’t help. I’d been on all my medication for 3 or 4 years. Like my meds know me. My body knows my meds. So they took away my morning med. And there was no reason for me to wake up for breakfast. There was no reason for me to wake up for lunch.
Um, I was eating like 200 calories. I was very lethargic. I was madly depressed. I was still suicidal. I don’t like groups at that place.
So yeah, I basically had no reason to wake up. This kid, I swear, I woke up for breakfast the day after meeting him. I was, I was aware. He put up with so much shit from me. And if I ever meet him again, I want to apologize.
So the guy who asked me, he spent the time humming the wedding march.
I was bothering him so much but he was a sweetheart and putting up with it. And I think it was a little distracting him from his situation. I held back so many times, so many times. And I would do something stupid and bug him.
I think, I think we had dominos and I took one and kept aiming it at his stomach. It was sooo weird. I was a child again. And like, he was just so endearing the whole time and he put up with me.
Um, but on Friday I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. I didn’t want him think that there this person 7 years older than him creeping on him, like I want to …. I wasn’t even thinking like that.
So I tried to explain to him what a BPD person’s FP is. Favorite person. And like that’s even scarier probably. At least everyone’s used to lewd ideas about them. y’know?
But being like “you are making and breaking my life right now”. Maybe that was a bit intense. And he didn’t fully understand it and that’s fine. (11/26/23 - if I was ever to be inpatient with another fp, I would not explain it. It’s too much to put on a fellow person who is suffering.)
Um, but it was just so sad because I knew I was going to Griffin. I had been at one hospital for 2 weeks. They let me leave while I was feeling suicidal. I had been to emergency care, I’d been to my own mental health place. Um, they sent me back. This was like my third time at this facility. And I knew I was going to intensive care because everywhere is barely 2 weeks. And so it takes 3-6 weeks for your medications to settle. And they were messing with mine.
Anyway, um, last year was hell. I was homeless. I’m still technically homeless because I’m not on the lease (as of 11./26/23 STILL not on the lease). And so, every single doctor had this opinion that I was risking my life for shelter. Which is kinda fair.
I um, no. I had this suicide pact with myself, this suicide plan for 18 months regardless of, before I became homeless. So I probably would have been attempting all those times without this. Being homeless wasn’t helping. I had also been assaulted. I hadn’t been in therapy. And a bunch of other things. And I’m still not in therapy (as of 11/26/23 I’ve been in therapy almost 4 months.)
They, they decided that I was taking up other people’s space. Basically that my life wasn’t as important as other people’s. And I was not ….. Pause….. I’m feeling sad right now. And I’m very ADHD because I’ve had like 7 topics and haven’t explained why I’m talking about this. But.
I was so lost.
And he was this breathe of fresh air.
And I could just forget. About everything that I had been through.
And just act.. … like a stupid 9 year old boy.
Sorry boys. But you know the whole stereotypical boy with a crush.
I guess I had a squish. Idk. There’s a lot of terms. But it wasn’t romantic and it wasn’t sexual.
But I just.
I just needed him.
And he had to put up with me needing him.
And I was going to this hospital possibly for months. Until I could find housing.
So it wasn’t as intense, it was as (redated) as the girl before him. (11/26/23 untrue.)
I-I just processed y’know, someone leaving me. Someone that I had latched on to in a matter of minutes, hours, days. And so.. I could do this again. He could leave.
And I knew he was leaving. He, poor child, his story was so sad. And I feel so bad for bugging him.
I guess that’s my top symptom of mental health issues. Being unable to stop myself from bugging him.
If I, if I----excuse me. If he cursed me out, if I realized I was not making his life enjoyable. He was laughing, he was smiling. He was blushing a bit. But if I really thought I was making an issue, I would have stopped. I would have gone and laid down in bed and just like frozen. And I don’t think I did that;
If he ever hears from me again, it will be “Thank you so much and can I give you a hug?”
But he um, I didn’t want to see him Monday morning (that doesn’t sound right. Or possible), oh that’s what I was saying.
He had a reason to be there. He had attempted. It was very dangerous. And do I think he should have got out as soon as he got out, no.
But it had nothing to do with me. It wasn’t because I wanted him to be in my life. It’s just that I was worried about him.
But Monday morning, he got there Thursday night, Monday morning they um, it was not quite morning. No, it was. It was Monday morning at like 11 and everyone was going back to see their teams. My team meeting was boring because they were like this is your third time here. There’s no reason for you to be here. Well there is a reason. But like we’re just trying to make the system work. We’re trying to get you to this long term hospital.
Mental health in America. Mental health anywhere. Mental health struggles. Mental health life.
So I didn’t really care about being with him. I wasn’t expecting many people to go home since it was Monday. I wasn’t epecting anyone who came after Wednesday to go home. Because they generally wait the full 72 hours to 108 hours to release. They came on Thursday night so Friday was the only day that counted. Saturday and Sunday don’t count because the mental health team isn’t there.
So I wasn’t expecting anyone to go home. I wasn’t expecting to go anywhere. Um, I was just expecting to continue our week and have Tuesday. So one of my friends, my female friend, was having a moment and I let her go to the women’s side. And as she was leaving the boys said to go check on her. I said I was going to give her a few more moments. She had just gotten done with a phone call. And I guess it went bad.
So I went and talked to her. And saw what was going on. And I guess in that time, the boys, the men had gone to see their teams. So they were getting ready for lunch. And we were the popular table. Almost every time I’ve stayed I’ve ended up at the popular table. Just like 2 times I left at times. And then the other time I didn’t like the popular table and waited for a few people to leave before I joined.
I call it the popular table because one time we combined 3 tables to sit like 10 or 11 people. Half the unit. At one point a couple women took the tea and grabbed all of us cups for lunch. And Mr. Letter called out “put that back. Cool table stop.” And I was like yassss! We are in school again.
But when I had been in school, I didn’t go to public high school, we never had a real popular group. Middle was like 10 people that everyone I knew, knew. And elementary was 6. But somehow I talked to everyone in elementary because I was the mediator and would fix everyone’s relationships the rare times that I went to school.
I hated it at school. I hated home. I hated life.
Being a part of the popular table for inpatient is kinda like oddly rewarding because I’m popular for talking about my illness and being so chill.
The most scared I’ve been inpatient was when someone had a seizure and they were totally treating it wrong. I was shouting “turn him on his back” but they wouldn’t let me close enough to do it. I was like “I have cpr training.” These techs are supposed to have cpr training but they aren’t doing the right things. And it was barely when the ambulance came that, like 3 minutes into his seizure, they did that. I was like “he is going to die. And I can’t be here when he dies.”
Anyway. Way to make someone’s death about me. But we’re centric people. Yeah, it’s a terrible thing to say but it’s a realistic thing.
And people ask me how I stay so chill despite like yelling and takedowns to sedate people. I say “we are here because we want to die. What is the worst this person is going to do? Kill me? Is that a bad thing? I don’t get it. What are you so scared about?”
Anyway, I’m morbid.
So we were the popular table during this kid’s visit, or stay. You don’t visit inpatient, you get stuck there.
So I came back and the girl was washing her face or something. And I feel so bad because she was a sweetheart and gave me her number but I lost it. She even wanted me to live with her. But I couldn’t really be there for her. It would help me but not her. So I feel like I ghosted her.
So I walked to the boys side and called over the line “why’d you leave the popular table?” And they were walking behind me and I could hear them talking. So the soldier was like “you have to tell her.” and the kid asked “how?” and the guy was like “rip it off like a bandaid.” The kid told the guy that he had to tell his girl. So soldier had openly been flirting with the girl I had gone to talk to. Um, so we sit down and I was …. I don’t know if I asked them or if I was just pretending to be in my own little world. I was definitely like 60% just in my own little world. So I wasn’t pretending. Um, pause.
Basically they had both seen their mental health team and the guy was like “I’m leaving Tuesday.” I said “I’m happy for you.” Basically I’m happy for me because I don’t have to put up with him much more. I’m such an asshole. Laughs. I’m such a nice asshole. Um, I’m so nice all that time that I get shocked when I’m an asshole. I’m like why can’t I do this all the time. Just be a savage. And be that bitch.
But then my kid. My kid? Was like “I’m leaving today at 3.” And I’m sitting there and I’m like “Okay.” happy voice. And they were like “aren’t you bugging?” Like they both looked at me wide eyed. And the kid looked a little hurt, I swear. And they were like “he’s like your favorite person. And I was like it’s funny you should use that word.
I was like “there was a girl here before you and when she left I dealed. So someone else will come and I’ll deal again.”
And they were like just so shell shocked. Like I kept moving to sit next to him. And they were like “how are you dealing with this?” And I was like “there are 8 billion people in the world. I will find someone. That’s how I’m dealing with this.”
Um, it’s like 11:30. I have like 3.5 hours to prepare to say goodbye to this person. Like I can mentally say goodbye and whatever. And we’d already exchanged numbers. Which he didn’t have his memorized, very apropos to his personality. It was either perfect that he doesn’t have it memorized or that he would automatically lie about having it memorized. He didn’t have any social media. He was like I have like 4 friends. He for sure never wanted to talk to any of us ever again. So it could have been either way.
So I gave him my Facebook. And phone number and both have changed since.
So I was mentally preparing for goodbyes as lunch came. And as lunch came, they called me for Griffin. And I was like okay. And they were like stand up and get your things we’re leaving in 15 minutes. And I was like “oh!”
I’d already said bye to everyone. And they were like rushing me out. But I was making sure I had everything. It was just so whirlwind.
I hadn’t even been outside in like days. I had two people carrying my stuff. Two people walking me over. I hadn’t been alone in even longer than that. The last time I was alone, I tried to kill myself. So they sat me down and told me to wait for the doctor. And I had THE worst withdrawals of my entire life….. pause….. Pause. Worse than having a seizure from medication withdrawals. Worse than having a second seizure from my overdose withdrawals. Worse than passing out in my bathroom with less than 48 hours withdrawals. Well, I didn’t pass out but I like fell to the floor at 2am and yelled for my siblings to take me to the hospital. Worse withdrawals of my entire life.
I felt like someone had taken my heart and squeezed all the blood out. And it hurt. A lot. I was like what is wrong with me? I feel worse than when my mom died. How is this possible?
And it was because he was my FP. I’d never felt that way before. I haven’t felt that way since. It was really scary. I was like how can a person do that to you? I never want this to happen again.
And then my doctor accused me of lying about having BPD. About having Bipolar. And told me that no one has the memory of being 3 and looking out their fence at daycare and wanting a car to stop on the sidewalk as they crawled out the gate, through the ivy, pause, and get kidnapped, raped, and killed. No one. That could not be possible. Out of 8 billion people. And how many people in history? And that could not. be. possible.
So I must have been lying. Because I was homeless and I needed somewhere to stay. And she didn’t know I was going through the worst withdrawal of my life. And I was angry. And I never lashed out. I lashed out like twice in my life, like really lashed out. Just before that when I was in the hospital and a nurse said, he misspoke and said that what was an IV when I got to the hospital wasn’t an IV. But what he meant was that it wasn’t a viable IV anymore. That it was a dead line. But I thought he was saying it was impossible and he did not trust that I was suicidial enough to rip the IV off my person. And he was like “how dare you take life saving medicine that other people are begging for and treat it like this”. And I was like “give it to them then.” I thought that was the most ridiculous statement. Like do you know that I tried to kill myself less than 24 hours ago. Do you think I care about life saving medicine?
Don’t bullshit with a suicidal person. Don’t be logical. They aren’t logical. They are irrational.
So I lashed out at him. And I lashed out at this doctor. This doctor that was supposed to decide if I get life saving care. Or sent to the street. After trying to kill myself 5 times in 3 years.
And she told me I was lying.
Pause
And I told her I did not care. I would go into the street and kill myself right now. I will not make mistakes this time. I am here for help. I’m asking you for help and you’re being a jerk. And she sent me out.
And I pinched myself so hard I drew blood. (12/2/23 I hadn’t done that in over a decade. And I still have the scar 12 months later.)
Oh, and she told me my two rapes weren’t rapes. That I had consented. Even though I hadn’t consented. Because I didn’t verbalize my no. Like the denim. The reason we wear denim once a year. Her pants were so tight. That she must have helped take them off. So she consented. A woman doctor had the nerve to look me in the eye and tell me this.
And I pinched. And I pinched. And I drew blood.
I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to find my new FP. I wanted to become my own FP.
I wanted to live to spite her. And I didn’t care if she sent me out in 5 minutes. I didn’t care if I had to go down the street again. I didn’t care if I got raped a million more times.
I wanted to live to spite her.
And it was the most I felt like I could spontaneously die. Just with how much pain I was going through. Physically. Emotionally. And mentally.
And I don’t really remember how I got on this tangent. I was just saying I wasn’t having the best week. Because my current FP is out of town.
And moving.
And I’m having a hard time processing it.
But if anything I have reminded myself how much I have been through. How much I have survived. How much I shouldn’t be alive. And how much I want to see tomorrow.
And I probably don’t have time to record my shows. My alarm went off 13 minutes ago to take my meds. Redacted and I have work.
Live long and prosper. Peace and long life.
May your needs. The needs of the one. Outweigh the needs of the few. Or the many.
