I’m having a rough time.
I’m sorry I’m not able to be as articulate when I’m very upset.
Here is my stream of consciousness.
High school English teachers used to get angry with me for writing in this disjointed way.
In my freshman year of college a prof told me my notes read like poetry.
I hate transition sentences and formal paragraphs.
Figure the transitions out on your own.
I don’t deal well with uncertainty
So many thing are up in the air right now.
I don’t know where anything will land.
I made an urgent appointment on Monday to see #27
and then saw him again at my regularly scheduled Tuesday appointment.
I need more support that that, but I just can’t travel all the way there very easily
It’s very time consuming.
I have so many commits and have done so little for them.
I’m using being busy as an excuse for falling behind on everything.
Oh sorry I’m overwhelmed doing X so I couldn’t get to Y.
In reality I’ve just been crying in my apartment.
My most productivity I’ve done the past week is writing two emails and scanning something.
I’ve gone out and physically been present at places I needed to be, but am not there mentally.
I actually went out yesterday and did something social.
A major rarity for me.
An old friend, from before I was crazy.
And I’ve been crazy for a long time.
She is is town for a bit and I insisted upon seeing her.
She doesn’t know my crap.
And she is going through some of her own crap, so I was able to forget some of my crap while taking a supportive role.
I had a good time.
Then came home and remembered everything.
Took some Klonopin and knocked myself out to sleep.
I need more support than I have access to right now.
I wish I could have therapy every day.
There’s just no way for me to get there.
All these ideas running though my head.
Maybe I could go to the school counseling dept and just only share certain information.
To supplement my real therapy.
Nothing about suicidal ideation or cutting.
Not about the bottle of suicide vodka in my cupboard
And the Klonopin I’m hoarding
That I’m saving for a synergistic drug interaction
There’s suicide grapefruit juice too, but I got thirsty and drank it as regular grapefruit juice.
Just talk about the terrifying uncertainty of not knowing anything about how my life will look in 2 months.
That’s socially acceptable.
I’m allowed to be stressed about this.
My stress is just out of proportion.
But it’s too complicated to hide bits in therapy
I did that with #24.
I refused to tell her where I worked or when to school
It got a bit ridiculous.
I easily meet the major depressive episode criteria
But what does that mater?
It’s all arbitrary
When is it dysthmyia and when major depression?
The DSM makes it seem clear, but it’s complicated
I laugh in classes.
I seem like I have a plan.
I’m taking it in stride.
I just fake it for a few hours.
All the therapists I see every day.
Not as a patient but as a colleague and student.
I hear them talk about self-injury and borderlines
Representing those with serious psychopathology.
No idea I’m there among them.
Well maybe I’m not borderline.
It all depends who you ask.
I feel offended personally when by derogatory statements against borderlines
Even if I am not a part of this group, I am perceived as a part of it.
The statement is directed at me.
Even if it is is not about me.
I did everything right academically.
Except for being crazy.
What else could I have done?
But nothing I’ve done matters.
I’m still in limbo.
The states are higher for me.
It’s not about a job and a career.
It’s about when I will kill myself.
My desperation is high.
I want it to work.
in that sense I want to live.
But I can’t stand the uncertainty.
I convince myself it won’t work and I should skip the waiting.
It was the same in high school.
I got into my first choice school.
Everything worked out.
Stakes are raised here.
I need to get back to seeing S.M. for therapy.
It’s not just a job, any job.
It’s a job where I can be happy.
If I have the time i would go to a partial program in the day
That’s the level of support I need
Not a hospital
Hospitals babysit
I’m not going to kill myself right now
But I need to keep things together so it stays that way
I’m envious of the UK bloggers who have access to this greater range of support services.
I just have therapy.
He’s (27) out of the office until Friday.
I didn’t listen to the whole voicemail message informing me
I hung up when I realized I’d have to wait.
He’s not that warm an supportive though.
More expressive on the expressive supportive continuum.
I need supportive now.
Crisis lines are only so helpful.
Awkward stranger pretending to care
Some better than others.
Sometimes i can ignore the awkwardness.
I hate giving background information.
I just want to pick up where I left off.
There’s a nice local crisis line, that allows that.
But their hours are few.
I always seem to freak out when they are closed.
You can leave a voicemail, they say.
But I’m scared to.
The national hotline.
The one that google recommends when you search about suicide methods
They connect to a random line.
Which is nice because calling specific ones I end up on hold.
Sometimes connected to ones where I’m not the target population.
Sometimes I get one where they say “Emergency Services this is ___”
I hang up, terrified.
I don’t want emergency services.
I just want to talk.
Don’t they realize they’re scaring people off with their greeting?
At the end of a crisis line call.
They have some time limit.
And they say call again anytime.
But I just feel rejected.
As they’ve kicked me off in the nicest way.
I have to go pretend to have my act together for the rest of the day.
Lots of talking and smiling and such.
So I’ll end this stream of consciousness post.
I usually put these in a more private blog, but I don’t think anyone reads that one.
Those are usually typo filled.
I tried to spell properly.
Some extra effort.
Just for you folks.
I’ll talk to you later.
And hope you’ll excuse the interruption from my typical posting format.
Tales of a Crazy Psychology Major 
This is exactly the way I think — and the way I prefer to write.
I don’t know if you read my blog; I’m never sure if I gave you the information. I made a post (it’s password protected now) that got things in motion. My teacher helped me get an appointment with school therapist. My first meeting is tomorrow; I’m kinda worried.
I would never be able to call the help-lines — I’m terrified of talking over the phone. I don’t really like talking in the first place. My brain freezes, and I say all the wrong things.
It’s kinda funny, my “big bad post” was titled, “Please Excuse This Interruption.”
I’m on the same page, I think. “No one would believe the shit that’s going on inside my head.” I’m always laughing, lively, smiling in class and around friends. But when I get home, or I’m out with just my BF and his friends, I’m a glob of goo. His group of friends calls it, “She’s a little salty.”
Thanks for sharing; and I hope my response helps you feel a little less alone :)
Please, PLEASE just let me share with you that you have to be careful about how you handle any suicidal discussions. Even if you feel like shit and don’t want to say “I’m not going to kill myself this weekend”, SAY IT and avoid the possible outcomes. I refused to make promises to my counsellor because I refused to lie, but also refused to be held down by some inability of my own to make choices for myself.
I ended up with two officers kicking in my door at my home. I beg you, just be careful.
Tales:I can feel the despair in your writing. You are right in that the options are limited outside of the core therapist room. Maybe a counsellor can a buffer for the issues that are up in the air for you right now and refuse to discuss the suicidal/cutting issues right out of the discussion, and maybe leave those for use at a call-centre? I don’t know if where you live, you can call a crises centre and it be anonymous or not.
Maybe them together could buffer you through until your next appointment where you could discuss it with your T?
I think I have a pretty good sense of where the line is with disclosing suicidal ideation. I’ll lie about it if I have to to protect myself from being hospitalized.
I don’t know what i was thinking about going to a school counselor but censoring. Looking back there’s just no way I could do that. I’d be terrified of recreating the trauma of being kicked out. No matter how careful I could be.
There’s not really some kind of local crisis center. There are some support lines, but what they’re able to offer is petty limited and the people often seem to have little to no training. I get a lot of “advice” that’s unwanted like tips on finding a therapist. Frustrating because they don’t know my background info.
There have been so many days where taking a shower was a great accomplishment. Odd timing for this, as just a week ago, I was also in a terrifying place of not knowing what my life would look like in two months. The uncertainty was paralyzing and what little motion I could summon the energy for was self-destructive. I simply couldn’t deal.
Today, things fell into place and seem to be on the path to smoother sailing than I’ve known in over two years. I hope the same holds true for you and something comes through in a drastically positive way very soon. And more than that, I hope you’ll take a chance on that happening and wait this one out, as precarious as it is sitting on the ledge in the meantime. No advice or special words, just that I’m here and can relate.
And if you want someone to sit on that ledge with you for a bit, email me and I’ll shoot you my cell number (and fyi, emails come straight to my phone as well).
Thanks for the offer. That’s really kind of you. I don’t think I could feel comfortable unloading things onto you though.
Thank you all for commenting. It means a lot. I don’t really have it in me right now to reply individually. But thank you.
I’m so there with you. I’ve been there. I’ve felt everything you’ve felt. You just articulated it exponentially better than I ever could have.
I’m thinking of you. Wish there was something I could do to help, but I know there really isn’t. Wish i had some amazing words or answers, but I’m pretty sure I don’t have those either, so I won’t pretend to try.
I care about you.
I’m there too and I’m here too if you need anything. I really like the disjointed writing. It feels more… I don’t know, more real I guess? No, that’s not really what I mean, but there is something about it that just feels less censored and more YOU.
I start a program tomorrow that is a step down from a partial program at only 11 hours a week. I hope it helps, but if it’s anything like the hospital, it won’t. I seriously hope the groups are more than ping pong and playing with clay.
I’ve learned that you must be very careful about what you share about suicidal feelings. Those feelings are not tolerated by many people nor is there really “help” out there for them. Everyone gets lost in the legal and “ethical” part of those feelings and forgets about the human part. They just create too much panic in professionals I think. Being honest about my feelings has left me in limbo with my treatment so I stopped being honest and ended up being stupid.
I’m not sure where I am going with this comment so I will stop now. I hope you’re feeling a little better.
I like the way its formatted. It makes for more interesting reading, as its actually in the form in which you thought it. Its original.
You are clearly a literary rebel
Hope things look up for you xxxxx
hello, I’ve read most(if not all of your posts) and I’d just like to let you know you’re not alone. I can relate, though I’ve never been diagnosed with anything as I refuse therapy vehemently. Not only do I relate but you sound so much like a friend of mine I did a double take so to speak. I believe I’m rambling so I’ll stop now by restating that you are not alone