Lucky

My room is clean- at last. My boyfriend helped me out with it and it took a couple of hours. It is almost complete- I have to better organize my clothes now that they are all clean and out of the hamper, I don't have enough room in my dresser and closet for all of it. I made a donation pile when I was taking out my fall/winter clothes, but I guess I am going to have to donate even more. It astonishes me that someone as poor as myself could have so much clothing. The reason is because I never get rid of anything and it accumulates over the years and each year my case manager takes me for new clothes. I feel guilty for letting go some of my stuff, but I shouldn't because I will be helping someone else out.

I got rid of some of my clothes also because I did lose about 25 pounds since March. I didn't really jump down too many sizes though. That is ok with me, I am happy to have lost the 25 pounds and if I lose more, so be it. Right now I am drinking a Dr. Pepper slurpee from 7-Eleven and listening to Tori Amos. I could be out walking, but I did walk earlier in the day and I am not going to push myself to do anymore. Tomorrow is another day.

Three years ago, I was in the psych ward at this time. It was the last hospitalization I've had. I was at the University Medical Center and they held me in the psych ER for way too long...like four or five days. There is terrible supervision in the ER, you'd think it would be better because that is where they are supposed to evaluate you for admission. Back in 2003, a girl in the ER punched me in the face. No one seemed to see it and when I said something no one gave a damn. She should have been in restraints after that.

The big thing with mental illness is that if you are a danger to others or a danger to yourself you will be held with or without your consent. I was in restraints for several times during my stay in the ER. I was a bit upset how they violently strapped down one of my arms and broke my bracelet in the process. Being in restraints can be a good thing, at least it was for me because it was an escape from all the other potential admissions that were running around. I also got the magic shot that wiped away every last ounce of anxiety from my body. Time seemed to slow down and I became intrigued and entertained by the patterns on the ceiling. When someone would sit in the isolation room with me, I wouldn't end up falling asleep because I'd be a bit nervous with the company. It is very hard to trust anybody, white coat or not, when I am paranoid. When I was finally admitted to the upstairs, I was given a roommate that I ended up keeping in touch with after that stay. She introduced herself to me and we had a lot in common; she also had trouble with trusting the people around us. I was actually able to find an ounce of trust though when it came to my roommate. I was lucky.