Inpatient Experiences and Nurses

I feel for nurses who work at psychiatric hospitals. I really do. It takes a special calling to be able to fulfill that type of nursing role. Sure, there’s less blood and guts, but the work is often thankless. Many times, the patients don’t want to be there themselves, and they tend to take their anger out on the nurses. This could be a verbal altercation or a physical altercation. As with all nursing jobs, the hours are bad, and the pay isn’t that great. There are many reasons why there is burn out among nurses on psych units, but that doesn’t excuse some behavior.

During my last stint, for example, I was intake room, and I could over hear the nurses gossiping about me from their station. They said, “The little psycho is back.” Yes, I had been there before, and yes, I was psychotic, that’s why I was there the time before. They said more, but I will leave those parts out.

The issue, however, is that this tainted my whole healing process at this hospital. I, basically, said what I needed to get home as soon as possible. I wanted no dealings with anyone there. I had lost trust in the staff, and I was extremely embarrassed.

Nevertheless, not all the nurses were like those nurses, who were there when I came to the hospital. When the hospital was discharging me, they couldn’t setup an appointment with my psychiatrist. They told me to call him, when I got home. To make a long story short, I had no medicine, and the hospital psychiatrist said I needed to get the scripts from my psychiatrist. Nurse D, went out of her way and got the inpatient doctor to prescribe partial scripts and called me to pick them up.

So, what’s the moral of the story? Thank goodness for good nurses! Also, if your burned out, consider a career change, especially if you are working in a psych unit. You could be doing a lot of unintended harm.


My Compulsion

As the age-old interview question goes, “What gets you up in the morning ?” I have to internally scream, whenever this one is asked. The truth of the matter is that I’m not entirely sure. I’ve been through a whole gamut of “traumas” in addition to suffering from mental illness, and I just keep going. Recently, my therapist brought up the point that I was probably in the 90th percentile for resilience. Presumably, I should feel some semblance of pride. I don’t. The truth is I don’t always know why I keep fighting. I find myself repeatedly getting knocked down only to get back up again. All along, I think I have things, finally, in place. Nevertheless, the cycle repeats over and over and over again. Getting back up, sometimes, is more of a compulsion than a true strength.I’m not entirely sure why. Still, a couple of obvious reasons come to mind.

And, it’s an odd compulsion. It’s not a compulsion that I expect for others to notice. It is something I have to do for me. Part of it, I’m sure is, essentially, giving the middle finger to everyone who counted me out previously. As unhealthy as it might be, I feel a rage for people who tell me that couldn’t expect to work or finish college. I get irritated with people the idea that people expect less from me just because of what I “have” or what I’ve been through. Now, I don’t generally have to worry about people like this in my life too much anymore. It’s about proving the idea wrong for myself.

Now, the rest of my reasoning is a little more peculiar. I don’t, in fact, have as much will to live as others, but if I’m going to live, then I’m going to do it on my own terms. I have one life, and I might as well try to use it to accomplish achieving a normal life, until I run out of time.

If a person is going to have a compulsion, being resilient, is probably a healthier one to have. At the same time, I worry that I don’t when to give up, especially, considering I’ve been hitting a rough patch lately. Oh well, off to pull up on those bootstraps.

Riding the Manic Lightning

I recently was released from my second hospitalization in the last two months. I feel much more stable. At the very least, my hallucinations and mania are somewhat under control, and I am no longer delusional, which was a problem my inpatient psychiatrist had to break  to me. My low income retail job decided to have my back and let me both keep job and not count my absences for the hospital stay. I can’t say enough about how I appreciate them. Nevertheless, sitting ideally by “managing,” isn’t something I’m good at doing.

For better or worse, I will be starting my second college program in January. I have bachelor’s in mathematics already. I intend on keeping my part-time job and learning to play violin. Perhaps, I am biting off more than I can chew, but I always do. I, quite literally, don’t know how else to be. I aim high, and if and when I fall, I still have some goals left to work on.

I’m not depressed, and I’m not reaching full mania. Nevertheless, for days at time, I can think of nothing to quell my energy levels besides running through the snow naked. It’s not as bad as it was, but it is extremely irritating. My head feels like it is going to explode. I have to try not get irritated. I had as needed medications for this in the hospital, and they gave me a small supply of them for at home. They did not give me a whole month’s supply. It doesn’t look like my outpatient psychiatrist is going to be willing to prescribe them.  I’ve been dealing with mental health problems my whole life. I’m growing impatient. I’m truly not depressed, but at what point does a rough patch switch to the label of just rough life?