Brain Barf at 2 am

It is January 9th, 2019. I have been on a leave of absence from my job for about a month now. It has been an incredibly difficult task, moving though life with a broken brain. I know I should be grateful for my brain, it does many many things that allow me to look, and most often, behave like an average person. I am able to walk, and understand language. I am able to read and add up sums of money quickly. For some reason, likely many reasons, my brain is very depressed right now. Very anxious. Over the last several weeks I have had thoughts about not wanting to be alive. Thoughts about how I would end my life, who would find me. I’ve wondered, if I died on purpose, would my family still get my life insurance? Likely not, as I haven’t named a beneficiary.

This morning I was crossing Kellogg Ave in St. Paul. A big semi was driving toward me, fast, while I waited at the crosswalk. I thought to myself, “I could walk in front of that truck”. I responded back to myself, “I’m not ready”. I also thought of my Dad, waiting in his car across the street. He was tired, but drove me to an interview for a part time job. I couldn’t get clobbered by a semi truck and have him witness it. That would be too much. Besides, he was in a car accident with my brother and I when we were small kids, and my brother almost died.

It troubles me, and scares me, that I said “I’m not ready” to myself. Who the fuck is READY to jump in front of a truck? I don’t ever want to be ready.

I’m in this outpatient mental health program 3 evenings a week. The Program Social Worker asked me last week if I had ever considered doing ECT treatments. Modern-day shock treatments. I was devastated. I must be pretty unwell if she brought it up. She brought it up again tonight, and also mentioned doing a partial hospitalization program. It’s in the same space my evening groups are, but 5 days a week, 6 hours a day. She said the structure might be helpful to me, since I’m struggling so much to get up in the mornings. I’m definitely interested in doing the more intensive program. Less interested in the shock treatments, though I’d seriously consider doing them if I continue to feel unwell.

Meds have helped me over the years, but not greatly. I’ve done extensive gene testing, which confirmed that many psych meds aren’t a great fit for me.

One other thing. The Psychiatrist that works with patients doing the partial hospitalization? Is really fucking handsome. He did an intake with me, and I wanted to pounce on him. I could be wrong, but I think he was digging me too. He asked a fair amount of questions about why I was single, the last relationship I was in, and why it ended. Thinking about that guy working closely with me, even doing ECT on me, has me feeling kind of uncomfortable.

I seem to live in the land of discomfort.

I’m beginning to fear that I am going to burn people out. My roommate/besty, my sisters, my family, my dear friends. I don’t want them to worry about me. I don’t want to cause them stress. I’m concerned that I’m always going to be the older, single, fat, unhappy, mentally ill and under-achieving family member that is both loved and dreaded. I’m afraid that my youngest sister will tire of my crying, that it will make my brother uncomfortable. That my Dad will be at a loss, and my Mom will continue to love me from a safe distance away.

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