Maintained

Overall I have to say I'm doing alright. Things have remained even for many months now. I haven't had a really bad day for months.

I think about the hospital a lot. That was such a turning point in my life. Hard to believe it's been a year and a half since I was inpatient at Swedish, after attempts on my life. That was rock bottom for me. I can see that now. I was so hopeless going into the emergency room that day. It makes my heart ache even now to write this to think of exactly where I was. From then on it was either I go up, and start to heal, or I die. There was no more going down. I chose life. I chose to fight another day. I somehow found very deep in me one last ounce of hope and I clung to that for dear life. I know I am incredibly lucky to have had such a positive hospital experience. I went into the ER with my arm cut up, with cuts on my neck and on my face. My razor blade was my lifeline. They took my blade from me in the hospital. They had to dispose of it because they said it was unsanitary. Which it was. I figured I'd just buy a new one once I was released. That's what I'd always done when my blades went missing or taken from me. But I didn't. And I haven't. I haven't cut on myself since I've been released. I haven't had a desire to. It's nothing short of a miracle. Cutting was my lifeline, my go to when things got bad. But something inside changed during my stay and I found out maybe I'm worth more than a measley razor blade. I may be done cutting for good. I don't see a future where I have desires to cut anymore. My arm will always serve as a reminder of those times I fought demons and won, and in a way I am proud of that. But I don't need to add to it anymore. Of all my hospital experiences, my week as an inpatient in September of 2015 changed my life. I owe my life to those good doctors and nurses and mental health professionals who cared and understood what I was going through. I started cutting at 16 years old. Then one day I didn't anymore.

My sleep is a disaster still. I can't sleep at night, I sleep all day. I can't stay asleep at night, I can't stay awake during the day. It's rough. It definitely takes its toll on my life. It makes it hard to be social and I miss out on a lot of things I would like to take part in, simply because I feel I have no control over when I will sleep, so I take it as it comes. I doubled up on my sleeping medication one night. One tablet does nothing for me. Two tablets and I slept for 18 hours straight. That isn't good either. I can't seem to find a healthy balance between the two. I wonder sometimes if I'll ever have a regular sleep schedule, and ever not be so incredibly exhausted all the time.

A couple months ago the pharmacy started mailing my medication to me. They stopped sending it to the Port Orchard office of KMH, and instead directly to me. I was only allowed to pick up two weeks at a time before to prevent overdosing, it was very controlled. Now suddenly with no supervision or word from the psychiatrist or anything I'm sent a months worth at a time. And I don't know how they figure it, but I get my new meds every couple of weeks. So on my microwave right now I have 2 1/2 months worth of medication. It scares me. I feel strong enough not to take them all at once, but I would be lying if I said the temptation isn't there. Even now, even feeling so much better, I have suicidal thoughts that haunt me. I probably will forever. What if I slip again and fall into a dark despair? I'm maintained now through proper medication, but what if. I'm not comfortable having this much medication on hand at once. But I can't afford to go to Bremerton to pick them up every month, nor would I make the trip. I know my limits and my boundaries, and I know I wouldn't be able to make it there when I was out and then I'd just be out my medication for who knows how long until I could force myself to make the trek over. It isn't far, but it's far enough. I suppose this is the best way right now, I just have to remain strong.

I still find it hard to do things I once enjoyed. I haven't crafted in ages. I miss being creative and using my hands. But the desire just isn't there. I do have my joys though. Mr. Purrington continues to be my greatest joy and my greatest strength. And my greatest annoyance. Just kidding. His cuddles are always perfectly timed and I know I would be lost without him.

One more thing. I've been doing a lot of thinking, and I think I'm going to stay in Washington for awhile still. I know I had plans to move to Maine when my lease was up here, which it will be in October. But it just doesn't feel right yet to leave. I do love it here, I have found freedom here. I need to stay awhile longer. I feel good about this.

So overall, I wouldn't say I'm happy, but I'm content. And that's fine with me.