"My son has something wrong with his brain, the chemicals are messed up (bipolar) and you just have some emotional thing." This is my friend after I was hospitalized for the 8th or 9th time 2 weeks ago. What? Then she said," Oh, I saw a T shirt that said I have PTSD and I'm armed," and she thought that was really funny. I said I didn't like the shirt because it perpetuated the idea that all people with PTSD are dangerous to others. She said it was healthy for people to laugh at themselves. Whatever.
My therapist was going to hospitalize me 2 weeks ago, and I swore I would be safe. I was sobbing because I didn't want to go. He said if he sent me home and I tried anything he'd "kick my ass. No, don't laugh, I swear I will kick your ass. Look at me, I will kick your ass". That makes me cry now. It didn't then. I started giggling because I was thinking how is he going to kick my ass if I'm dead. But I stopped when he said to. What the f*ck was that? He ended up taking me to ER anyway.
My pain doctor told me I need to stop taking my "tiny" (her words) dose of pain meds and do vigorous aerobic exercise instead. This is after all the other medical people told me I would never work again with my back. She said it is bad to be on antidepressants and pain pills for a long time so I just need to stop taking them. OK, then I will have increased depression and pain, which will trigger me even more. Then what? Do I just not matter? I'm sorry, the last was off topic. Pencil and I do that sometimes.
