sixty-five days of mental breakdown

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Roughly sixty-five days ago I began having a mental breakdown.

Forty-four days ago I went into the hospital.

I spent seven days (not enough!) in a ‘residential mental health facility’.

Thirty-seven days ago I came home from the hospital.

Over the past forty-four days my meds have been changed more times than I can count. I stopped keeping track at some point because I just couldn’t keep up. The anti-depressant meds that I’ve been taking for several years at the highest recommended dose were reduced and increased and then reduced and increased and then again and maybe even again, over a span of 3 weeks. Three. Weeks. These are meds that require a very slow titration up and an even slower titration when tapering off (read: just a little bit of an incremental increase/decrease every 2-4 weeks). Slow as in weeks to months. I’m not sure I can even explain what this flip-flopping of dosage in such a short amount of time does to the brain and the body. It made me feel insane (more than I was, ha!), and like I wanted or hoped to die, and like my brain was being electrocuted and I just wanted to fucking rip it out of my skull.

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strength is what we gain / from the madness we survive :or: having a very public nervous breakdown

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Oh look! I failed Self Care 101!! I wrote this blog post back in August about self care and listening to my body because it knows.
I was watching myself spiral.
I thought I was catching myself.
I was wrong.
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bluetooth connections from the grave

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I pull open the car door. Climb in. All the soft blurred in shape lines of my body settle into the soft worn blurred in shape contours of the leather seat. Feel the cold steel metal of the key in my hand as I slide it into the ignition, and turn. The machine stretches and yawns and let’s out a low rumble as it awakens and comes to life.

I sit for a moment in the silent cocoon of the space. Feeling the car stretch and shake out all its limbs. Feeling the vibration of the engine as it pulsates through metal and plastic and leather and skin and muscle and bone.

Silently, and without hesitation, phone and car reach out and search for each other. Mysteriously connecting over the airwaves. Desperate to feel the fingertip touch of current and connection. A heartbeat that allows them to communicate.

I’m sure I haven’t turned on the Bluetooth on my phone.

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