Surviving the BSI

So I got sorta in to acronyms yesterday. I got tired of talking about the giant intake i had to do yesterday morning for the hospital's outpatient program. So I renamed it the BSI...big scary intake. At times it was also the BFI, or the BFSI. I'll let you use your imagination on those. Most of you have probably heard about the BFI at some point or another cus it was pretty much all I could think or talk about for the last few days. But just in case I'll give you the quick rundown.

The hospital where I was inpatient also offers an outpatient program. Because I had been inpatient, I get 30 days free so it seemed worth checking out (and even when I have to pay the cost isn't awful). The downside? They told me to show up for my intake day at 7am and expect to be there for at least a few hours. A few hours??!! Yikes!! An hour in a therapist's office is PLENTY for me...especially when they're doing intake stuff which involves asking personal question after personal question without any real help to process any of it. Oh and the people are all strangers to you so it's extra scary. But I'm determined not to get back to how I was before the inpatient time, so I gathered up all the courage I could find and went.

Now the long part of the story...lol

I left a little late, but not too bad considering how impossibly hard it was for me to drag myself out of the house for this. I would've only been about 10 minutes late but it turns out the hospital is a giant campus with TONS of buildings. (I arrived by ambulance and left from the bus stop right by the main building so I never really realized before). I misread the map and the building i was looking for was tiny so I walked and walked looking for it. Thankfully 7am was the suggested time (since it starts getting much busier later on) but they could still get me in later even though it was almost 8 when I got there.

So the first part of the intake was an interview with this woman that i'm so so glad is not a therapist. Her demeanor was cold as ice. I was making stupid jokes to try to lighten the mood and help myself be a little less stressed and she'd just glare at me when I did. For example the first screening things were I guess to test cognitive ability or something, but the first question was what today's date is. I gave her a goofy smile and said "can I look at my watch?" (and really, who actually knows what the date is without looking?!) She glared at me and said no. There were a bunch of incidents like that. Apparently sense of humor is not required to interview someone there. I did finally get her to crack a smile towards the end. I sorta made that my goal cus it kept my mind off of what was really going on. The interview room was this long, narrow, bright white cell of a room. Super terrifying, especially when I felt like I was being interrogated.

After a bit, bitchy woman announces that the therapist i was supposed to speak to was only available til 9, so it looked like I'd have to come back tomorrow "if that's ok."

I replied with, "Actually no that's not ok with me. It took every ounce of my strength to get myself here this morning. I don't want to go back through that again tomorrow."

She asked, "Well how are you going to stick with the program if it's that hard for you to come in?"

I held my ground and explained that it was the fear of strangers and new places and new situations, and that once I had a routine and could build up some trust w/ppl and get used to it, it would still be scary but more doable. She left the room for a bit, came back and said that she thought maybe they could find someone different for me to see. And they did! I was very proud of myself for being able to stand up for myself to her even though i was so terrified I was shaking. (Side note...one of the tests involved copying a picture that had been drawn on another paper. It was two oddly shaped pentagons that met at the tip to form a little square. Now we know i'm not an artist anyway, but i was shaking like crazy! I couldn't draw a straight line to save my life, or even make my lines connect to each other. They kept missing...lol This is where I finally got her to laugh though...After jokingly grumbling about "no one told me there was gonna be an art test too" I finished with something to the effect of "Hey look I'm Picasso!" And she actually smiled and chuckled a bit.

After all that went back to the waiting area, did some more paperwork, and then met the therapist that was gonna be interviewing me. He was a he, which was a little scary, but he was surprisingly nice and calm. He asked me a lot of really tough questions and basically said that I couldn't ask not to talk about things because they needed to know everything that was goin on. Ugh. He didn't ask details or anything, but the amount of stuff I had to say was huge. Where my parents were, why i don't talk to them, what about my other relatives, what kind of abuse, etc. etc. So hard. But as we were going he would add in some really nice comments about how he was impressed that i'd finished high school and even gone on to college, that it was great that I was still fighting and facing this stuff, etc. So even though I was sure I was going to throw up in his office before we were done (I didn't...yay!) I made it through. He was really reassuring and said they've had lots of ppl come through this program with stories similar to mine...that they could eventually, when I'm ready, help me connect with other survivors...and that he could see that I was really ready to take this on even though I was super scared. He said as long as I keep the attitude of being willing to fight, that they would keep working with me.

Now about the program itself. Because it's a low-cost/free program, there are A LOT of hoops to jump through to get started. I understand they need to make sure ppl are serious, because there's a limited number of spots and apparently lots of ppl trying to get in. Understandable, but intimidating. I'll have to come in twice/month to pee in a cup and come in for random breathalyzers on days they decide. The breathalyzer thing seems a little odd to me just because it's "gee we think you might be drinking...could ya drive to the hospital?" lol Anyway shouldn't be a big deal, just sounds like I'm gonna have to come there a lot to start out with.

They gave me a schedule of group sessions which i'm not required to go to at this point but can if I want. Most of them are not anything I'm ready to do, but I noticed they have one called "coping through creativity" or something like that. I mentioned to the t I met with today that I had really liked the art therapy in the hospital, and it was one of the ways I'd been able to open up even when I was struggling to find words. (Interesting, because I hate doing any kind of art most times, but with a little structure and guidance it becomes a very useful tool to me). Anyway, he said that it may even be the same woman who was leading the inpatient groups which would be awesome because I really connected w/her. Unfortunately as I think about it more, I remember that the woman doing the inpatient groups said she was just filling in for someone, so it's prob. not her. But maybe. Of course I don't remember her name...considering I wasn't exactly at my best socially while in the hospital. But she and I really connected...she felt it too and told me she'd be thinking about me. Might try that group next week depending on how I'm feeling then.

So after the BFSI, I asked about getting my meds because they told me when inpatient that they'd give me a week's supply along with written scripts for a month's worth, and to fill the written ones once the medical card comes through. All sounds great except that when I called the medical card ppl to set up an appt to get the card they said they couldn't do it till next week, leaving a gap. I asked the guy I talked to today and he walked me over to an office w/a very nice guy (who also happens to have my middle name as his first name) who got me set up in minutes. Well, actually I spent another hour or so racing around town cus apparently I didn't have all the paperwork I needed and had to pick up more stuff....but once I did that he got me set up super fast so I could go to the pharmacy. So it seems like this program really can work for me and help me get stuff done...which is cool.

After that I got to see my school t (therapist). It was great to see her again bc she was the one that called the police and everyone to get me sent to the hospital. She told me she had been really upset about how it had all gone down. She was very upset w/the cops for shooing her out of the room and not even telling her that I had been screaming for her. (Even though I'd only seen her a couple of times, I knew she'd have better ways of calming me down than the cop's version of manhandling me and screaming at me to calm down. (I'm still stuck on that one....does ANYONE calm down by having someone yell at them? We all do it sometimes getting frustrated w/a bratty kid or whatever...but scary that this is apparently police/paramedic protocol). Anyway it was really nice to have a debrief w/school t about everything that had happened, and be able to let her know that I was ok. It almost scares me to say it but I really am starting to like this woman. I've never liked t's before because I hate the whole idea of sitting in an office being grilled on my personal life by some stranger. But this woman somehow has this amazing demeanor that puts me at ease...and she's totally willing to work with me to get me through stuff. (For example we still haven't done the official intake, which is required for the school place, put she said that if I wanted to I could write it out or draw it or whatever else I wanted to do, as long as she gets the info somehow. Not sure I'll be up for that before next week but I love that she's giving me options. I was surprisingly open w/her yesterday too...like she was an old friend or something. I was able to talk a lot w/very little prodding...i told her all about the hospital, the art i'd done (showed her the drawings, didn't have the painting with me) and also showed her a poem that I wrote for class and really liked (it's posted on here somewhere...too lazy to go find the link but you can look if you want to. :-P It's called silly class assignment I think). It drives me crazy that I've finally found a t I actually like (usually not hating them is the best rating a t can get from me) and feel relatively comfortable with and it's in a place where i can get a max of 8 sessions. Doh! At least she's helping me a lot to get comfortable with the idea that there are good t's out there despite the awful ones i seem to keep finding. That's a really good lesson for me because it's such a HUGE leap of faith to decide to trust someone you don't really know with your big deep dark secrets. Even if you're building up to it slowly, it's still scary cus obviously you don't want to take all that time building up the trust only to decide it's not a good fit and have to start over again.

So yeah...hell of a day...but thankfully i had my amazing friend waiting for me for the evening. We went to the gym so she could run and I could swim. Mostly it was just moving around in the water because I'd been so stressed and so shaky all day it felt like my muscles were all seizing up. I did a bit of real swimming...and then sat in the hot tub too. So relaxing and made me feel so much better. After that we went to dinner at my favorite burger place in the whole world. Oh, and I had pre-ordered myself an ice cream pie a couple days before and had picked it up earlier in the day...so we got to have amazing pie for dessert.

To put it simply, one of the most exhausting days I've had in a long, long time, but it felt good to get through it. And now it feels like, in a sense, the worst is behind me. I'm still really scared not knowing where it's going to go next but people know my name and people are listening. That's pretty huge right now. And i've learned that i have lots of good friends to help back me up.

That's enough of a novel for now. Thanks a ton to everyone who's been supporting me through all this and especially through the BFSI!

We

We is quickly becoming my absolute favorite word in the english language. It brings about more comfort than anything else I know.

A while back I was talking to a friend of mine. I was telling her that I was tired of the pain and really wanted to fight it but had no idea how. She was telling me to let my body get rest so I could be stronger to fight, rather than forcing it before I was ready. She said, "if you rest your vision will be more clear and we can fight more effectively."

"We?" I asked.

She replied with what has become my absolute favorite sentence in the world. She said,

"I'm fighting with you. You aren't alone anymore."

That sentence meant so so so much to me and still does. I teared up when I read it (online chat :) ) and immediately copied and saved the entire conversation so I could look back on that line. I'm not alone anymore. Wow. Someone knows what's happening in my head, and what's happened to me before, and is fighting with me. I'm not alone the way I always have been. I'm not drifting lost in the world, and there are people that have my back.

Tonight I was telling the friend I'm staying with about my fears for tomorrow (big long scary intake for the hospital outpatient program). I was telling her how concerned I am about them turning down or it otherwise not working out, since i've already been denied at a lot of places and not sure where I would go from here. My friend told me not to worry about it. She said to go in with an open min, and if it doesn't work "we'll find something else."

That we word again. Someone that's going to help me. It's still a huge, gigantic scary fight, but I'm not going to suffer alone. Someone knows I'm here, in the dark places, and will be there to help pull me out. I don't have to face the big scary monsters on my own. And that means more than I could ever express.

We. What a great word. In this case, so so so much better than I. Solitary I. Thank you to everyone who has been a part of my "we".

A brand new bad

I hope this post doesn't sound too sad and depressing. Definitely don't mean it to. Just noticing the very strange things happening to me right now.

Since the hospital I feel basically no suicidal thoughts or anything close to that. I don't know if it's the meds, the reality check of bein in the hospital, finally getting past my birthday, or what, but those thoughts are mostly gone. The difficult stuff is unfortunately not. But it's a different hard than the hard before.

Now, everything is a struggle and it's exhausting. I have to make very very basic goals for myself for each day (get out of bed, send an email, take a shower, etc.). The world feels incredibly overwhelming. The hospital opened up some very old wounds that I've kept very deeply hidden for a long time. That adds to the pain. I'm feeling very small and vulnerable, and everthing feels raw and exposed. I'm having intense panic attacks, even with the panic meds they gave me, and crazy paranoia. The paranoia might be because I told some of what happened, and it's been ingrained in my head for a long long time that very bad things happen when you tell.

I really don't know, and most of it is very hard to explain. However while writing this i've realized something good....a positive. I'm making goals. Before I would lay in bed and think about what I wanted to do and then say no i don't feel like it, or I can't, or whatever else. Now I'm able to see what I need to do and act on it. I'm sure it helps that I'm living with a friend who is very, very good to me rather than crazy ex-roommates that were so awful. My friend makes sure I'm taking care of myself, and she's an incredible cook so I've been eating well. I've been tryin to clean up afterwards as much as I can so I can at east add something. But she's very understanding about how hard all of this is. I think it also helps that my bed is the living room couch, so i can't really stay in bed all day bc other ppl need the space and it's weird to be laying there w/ppl comin in and out of the room and doin stuff around me. The sleeping on the couch thing was the main reason I didn't think here would be good, but turns out maybe it's a blessing in disguise.

Wish I could say more, but that's all I've got for right now. Life is just weird. Exhausting and weird. I think this is te start of the big battle, but I really really miss denial.

Strength, and other conundrums...

Here I am at my weakest, and people keep telling me i'm strong.

I feel fragile and broken, and I keep hearing that I'm doing great (considering what i've been through...).

I'm feeling at my lowest and I've had 3 random strangers tell me how beautiful I am. One was my friend's uncle who told my friend after meeting me only briefly (he speaks only spanish, I don't speak any spanish) that I seemed like a truly beautiful person inside and out.

It's like the world is looking at a different version of me.

I feel horrible and gross and vile and whatever else because I admitted out loud what had happened to me. I feel like the disgusting child who "made" her parents do horrible things.

I feel like others are looking at a very different person.

I wish I could see that person.

I'm gettin' sprung!

At some point this evening I'm gettin' outta here. Right now they're getting discharge papers filled out, getting some starter meds for me, and I'm waiting for my laundry to be done. (Thought it'd be nice to be clean and wearing clean clothes when I head back into the world.) I just looked up the bus schedule so I know how to get back to where my car is, and then i'll be going to a friend's house.

I have to admit a little part of me is scared about stepping into the real world. I obviously don't want to hang out here longer than I have to, but it's a little scary to be managing things on my own. I like being taken care of. But I also like my freedom and my cell phone and my facebook and my ability to get outside and etc. etc. I really really can't wait to go outside. Haven't had a breath of fresh air since Tuesday. I can't wait to go out and hug a tree and breathe fresh air.

They've got me on a bunch of different meds....my usual ADD stuff, one for flashbacks, an anti-depressant, a stronger sleeping med, and possibly something for anxiety. They haven't decided if the flashback one will be enough for anxiety or if they want to add something for anxiety in with it.

I have to admit as much as I've hated so many things about this place I think they've been good at workin stuff out behind the scenes. They have a really good program laid out for me. Also, when I get out I can still go to the outpatient program here at the hospital. They have therapists, psychiatrists, group therapy, and substance counseling. They've assured me that they have therapists that can help me deal with trauma specific issues. I'm realizing now that the only way I'm going to succeed sober is if I get a lot of help with calming myself during panic and flashbacks so I don't immediately reach for a drink to numb the pain.

I haven't decided for sure if I'm ready to quit drinking, since it is a useful coping mechanism, but we'll see. It will be nice to have the help of the hospital place to deal with that.

Will update more soon.

Hospital...a new day...

Things are starting to look promising. There's actually discussion of me being able to leave. It's cool cus I've been totally honest about everything and they still seem to think I'm ok. That's reassuring because I always thought if I said what's really in my head that I'd never be accepted and that everyone would think I'm too messed up to be a part of the "normal people" world.

I had a really great group therapy thing this morning. We did a painting thing where we painted our happy place. I LOVE watercolors though I rarely ever use them and it was really nice to get to paint again. I'm realizing how much easier it is for me to talk if I get to do artwork first. When people just start asking questions of me I get overwhelmed and can't handle it, but if I can do it in terms of talking about my art work it's much better. Today it was painting a picture of our happy place. I painted the mountains where I work in the winter in a snow storm, cus I thinks snowstorms are super pretty. I also included a family of snowmen. I said that was part of my happy place because it showed that kids had been out playing and having fun and enjoying their innocense. That means so much to me because I lost really any chance to have that innocent childhood, so I like reminders that there are happy, healthy kids that can still exercise their innocence. I was able to say all that to a group of ppl without freaking out and only crying a little bit.

Last night we were drawing things that give us hope. I drew a sunrise for a whole variety of reasons. Then my second pic had one side that was me sad and surrounded by bad ppl as a chid, and the other half had me as an adult surrounded by kids to lead and skiing and everything else I've done. I think it shows hope that I lived through something I wasn't supposed to survive and now have become someone with a passion to help kids and to help others.

One last thing for now....I'm asking you all to please please please leave comments, send email, send pm's if you're someone I know from one of the message boards...whatever you can do but it means so so much to hear from people right now. I've been especially struggling lately with believing that I matter to the world, so taking time to write to me helps a lot. Also this may be a bit of a shameless request, but if I've done something that has helped you in some way I really really would love to hear about that. Knowing that my actions have helped people and that they matter means so so much. So yeah, I'd love to hear from you.

It's possible I might be getting out today. None of it is for sure but when I asked to change beds to one by the window since my roommate left, they replied by saying we'll talk about it tonight when we know for sure if you'll be here for the night. So at least I know they're considering it. My hold is up this evening, so I'm really really hoping they'll let me out then, even though there is a small bit of comfort (amongst the terror) of being here. As scary as it is, it's nice to have people looking out for me, having meds that I need but being in control of them for me, etc. And they really seem like they have meds for everything...Even to make my flashbacks go away. So cool!

My housing stuff is all messed up, but as long as I know it's messed up anyway i'm not as anxious to leave. This may be just rambling lately but it's a lot to work out. It does feel like, for the first time in my life, the real, inner me is being helped and being heard. That's a really, really good thing

Will update more soon, but again would love love love to hear from all of you. Thanks you!

Hospital update...a little better...

I had a bit of a breakdown last night. It ended up working out well though bc one of the nurses was really helpful. I ended up getting a double dose of anxiety meds and sleep meds, and was finally able to go to sleep even though I was still terrified of the room. And get this...I slept for 10 HOURS! I only woke up a couple of times during it. I scared the hell outta myself when I woke up at one point cus I'd forgotten where I was. Anyway, for that reason I do like the hospital a little better...cus that was a level of meds I couldn't have taken at home. But since it's supervised here I can. Still feel unbelievably sick today. Everyone's assuming it's alcohol withdrawal and not really offering me anything. I don't feel like I drank enough to have withdrawals but I don't know. Still hoping to get out of here soon! Really need to get home and get my stuff from my crazy roommate. That's scaring the hell outta me right now. I sent her an email about what's going on and she said I'm taking advantage of her. Wow...because it's always about her!

I am feeling a bit of relief because my birthday is finally over.