I was 15 when my mental illnesses really showed their teeth. Overtime I identified I have two mindsets; “The Mental Health Patient” and “Lauren 2.0”. The patient loves being stuck. The patient likes to dig a dark hole. This dark hole consumed me. I felt comfortable being suicidal and hopeless. For the longest time, it was be stuck or death. While being in the hole, I was admitted to St.37 (Abbott Inpatient ) 6 times. My first stay I was there for almost 2 months. I was used to being in burnt orange scrubs. I also had made many friendships with fellow patients and staff. Though I seemed to find a way to cut, no matter how safe it was. Eventually, it became a daily ritual to have a plan for my death. I made the biggest attempt of my life on October 21, 2015. I felt this presence after that almost fatal cut. My entire life flashed through my eyes. Well, I lived. At points, I regret telling my ma and at times I don’t. The next day I went to a MN Wild game. Anyway, I have tried every medication you can think of. Some nurses say “I could teach a class on DBT and CBT”. I knew every skill out there, but I just didn’t use it.
Being in day treatment just wasn’t enough for me. So after a long process, I got into a residential treatment center. Let’s just say this place saved my life. I’m not saying being there for 5 months was easy. It challenged me. This is where “Lauren 2.0” started having a say. I started thinking about me. I was trying to find my new identity. Yes, having suicidal thoughts and urges is still be part of it, but it’s about how I cope with it now. While in residential, I discovered Islam. During crises, I prayed to Allah. Islam brought peace to my hectic world. I have also discovered that I am an activist. Black Lives Matter, gender equality, standing up against islamophobia are what I’m really passionate about. Though, on the 5 month mark I was discharged. I let the treatment center help me. I worked my a** off to get where I am today.
I am proud of what I have done. Though it is not easy. There are “bad” days, and that is to be expected. My ma would tell me this saying when I was struggling, “One Day at a Time”.
In the last two years, I have spent 264 days in the hospital, after three intentional overdoses of various medications. Admitted to psych ward, I was kind of cut off from everyone who I would normally see all the time; husband, family and friends. I felt (and still often feel) very alone in this....
I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety while I was in nursing school. This is a story about my transition from being a student nurse to being a patient on an inpatient psychiatric unit.
The first thing I noticed was that I barely slept, at all. While insomnia is some people’s baseline, I used to only have trouble sleeping the night before a clinical day. Now I was waking up multiple times in the night, for half an hour or longer. I started skipping afternoon classes because I was too tired to sit and take notes. While I still managed to do the readings and study, I didn’t think I could go on for much longer. Something was wrong.
Later, I started to have thoughts about hurting myself, and self-harmed for the first time. I promptly told my brother and my therapist, and several sharp objects disappeared. But I found other ways to hurt myself, and gradually everything in the house with a pointy edge was hidden. I was in so much emotional distress that physical pain was attractive. Hurting myself also seemed like a way to gain control over the intensity of my emotions. Student Nurse me looked at my behaviors and thoughts, and knew my condition was growing serious.
As the law stands on HIPAA patient protection there has to be a bridging of the articles within the means of justification 4 the patients are subject to non-adherence of the clearing policy within our formal mental health structure title 9.16. The current provisional hearings allow for the termination of the law as it stands from the new adjudication. That is being ratified, though the subtitle of the law has no justification on the brevities of the initial patient protection policy. HIPAA which in itself has Justificates of law which exclude and conceal the patients writs of Corpus and medical history. Now they are being subjected in the provisions of an electoral year the widespread health of the law would be too diminished in its itenaral definition.
Twiggy
Hello my name is BPD. I can turn a good day, into a bad day, a happy day, into a sad day, and I can make everybody hate you. But I love you more than you will ever know so please don’t leave me. The thought of you abandoning me kills me inside, although I’ll push you away anyway. I give you no control over your life and I have controlled you since you were young. But if you try therapy or to get help you may be able to take over your own life for once. Everybody tells you to go to therapy and learn to control your emotions and actions so take their advice so you can seek some happiness. Prove to everybody you don’t want them to abandon you and leave you all alone. I’m tired of running your life anyway and I’d love to see you happy for once. So listen when they tell you you have control of your life. I’m tired…
Sincerely,
BPD
“You are my inspiration, my strength, and all that I hold closely. The person I laugh with or the person to cry with. Whether the day is with sunshine or not. You are my other half and I’m besides you no matter what. I love you dear.”
My husband-to-be has bipolar type 2 disorder. He was diagnosed a year ago, and today, he left me this lovely message.
As a young 22 year old woman who has spent most of her years with a dysfunctional family, I am familiar with mental illness.
When I fell in love with my husband-to-be, Rikki, I didn’t know he was diagnosed with bipolar type 2 disorder, but I also didn’t stop loving him once he told me.
As a young woman trying to find her own footing in life, I’m having trouble coping with the in’s and out’s of life lately. I’m having trouble coping with the pains of seeing my own family undergo mental illness, including that of Rikki.
Regardless, I think a common point is rarely touched upon for those who have mental illness and those who care and love the people in their lives that have mental illness: You are both in this together.
As a young woman used to doing things alone and without the full physical and mental support of her family, I grew up isolated and independent as a way to survive. Now that I have Rikki in my life, I’m shedding my outer skin of loneliness to reveal a stronger skin of togetherness.
My husband-to-be has bipolar type 2 disorder and I don’t. And yet, he remembers to include me into his life as much as I do him. He has type 2 bipolar disorder and that doesn’t mean he can’t support me or love me. I may take care of him when he has his tough times, but that doesn’t mean he can’t care for me too when he can. We support each other when we need each other most, and we continue to love each other even through the up’s and down’s of life. Caring for him doesn’t mean I’m alone, it never has and it never will.
Life is hard enough without someone to love and grow with. It’s time I remember he is more than just a man with bipolar disorder; he is Rikki, my husband-to-be, and every day we choose to live and love life together.
On May 25, 2017 at 4:28pm I was yanked into a world I know nothing about. I am here scared and uncertain but the one thing I do know… I’m NOT leaving here without him… I’m bringing him home! I love you brother
Dear Bipolar,
What can I say? You have not always been kind to me. You continue to push me everyday. Some days you push too hard it seems. Do you know my limits?
You have brought me so much pain over the years my brain literally cannot fathom all of it. The memories fade but some of them have left scars. You haven’t just hurt me you have also caused pain to the ones I love. You have destroyed friendships and opportunities while making me feel helpless at times. You have reeked havoc on my body and worn it down to the bone. I feel exhaustion from the constant fight you put me through.
It seems at times you rear your ugly head and bring to light a side of me I wish would stay hidden. You tempt me with darkness which seems comforting and then tease me with dreams that seem achievable. Only to drop me somewhere in the middle stagnant. You are a disgusting, toxic, crutch but I wish to have this relationship with you no longer!
Bipolar you are mine! I will determine what you are to me! I will take you over and change what is to be my legacy. Bipolar you will make me proud. I will use you to be the best person that I can be every day so that I can keep you at bay. Bipolar you will always be there but I hope you will teach me kindness and empathy towards others. I will use the resilience you have forced me to have only to come back stronger. I wont fight you anymore. No, I will work with you. My emotions are strong because of you, I love harder and laugh louder! I thank you for that. I will appreciate the fact that you have helped me create so many beautiful things. I will share with the world that you are not what you seem to be but instead you are a beautiful difference between me and them. One I am happy to have and at peace with today.
Love, Melody
“ Paranoia’s Tears”
Father, whispered in your ear over the telephone, “I love you.”
The crowds yell for more.
I can see the souls of my feet reflected on mirrored floor.
Salvation lets out loud roar.
I’m so full of thoughts, I can’t look Grandma in the face anymore.
The truth is too painful.
I wonder to a mirror, “what for?”
Life and age were created to ignore.
To discover life’s pleasures, I’m too poor.
“Get the hell out of the door!”- they implore.
I say, - “No more!”
Jon Billet-05/04/16
“Life’s Lunch”
Father, whispered in your ear over the telephone, “I love you.”
The crowds yell for more.
I can see the souls of my feet reflected on mirrored floor.
Salvation lets out loud roar.
I’m so full of thoughts, I can’t look Grandma in the face anymore.
The truth is too painful.
I wonder to a mirror, “what for?”
Life and age were created to ignore.
To discover life’s pleasures, I’m too poor.
“Get the hell out of the door!”- they implore.
I say, - “No more!”
Juan
