The last two weeks have been The Revolution, not the black one that will not be televisied (but Instagramed) but the actual roller coaster at Six Flags. Up down up down down down up low low low. The cycling back and forth is bad enough, what is painful and mostly exhausting is pretending to be ok. That's almost the worst. Having emotions be ignored because I present well. And I do. Usually. But then sometimes...I don't. Friday was emotionally hard. The most challenging it's been in a long time, in fact. By Friday night I was on an upswing. Saturday morning I woke up so up up up the whole world was a box of crayons that tasted like chocolate. Everything was beautiful. Too beautiful. But I calmed myself, in the ways that I have learned. I counted. That's what I do. I count. I count everything. My heartbeat, clouds, cars passing by, whatever. All in the rhythm of my heartbeat. Don't ask. It's relaxing though. Except when it isn't. See the problem? Started sinking again on Sunday, then hit the floor Sunday night. The best part of the weekend was being with my son. Laughing, eating, sharing stories how we do. I had a shoot on Monday that ended at noon. I had some time and was still feeling a way. I knew I couldn't go into the week doing the Space Mountain (Disneyland) dance.
I need to be back on the meds. I need to sleep. I need to even out. I went to the emergency room Monday evening after I put on my best "Look, I'm not checking in. I am not going to hurt myself or anyone else. I have a place to stay. I just need a prescription" face. I went in. Oh, on Sunday night I sent my therapist a long list of the words and phrases and what's goings on in my head. Yep, I pushed, send. I think it was my way of committing to take some real action the following day. She's the dopist therapist ever, at least for me. And I knew I couldn't send her a loopy message and then the next day say "Whew, I was just having a moment. I'm good now."
I wasn't admitted on Monday but was refferred to a psychaitrist at a mental health office the following day. They and I trusted me to go. And I did. Before that though, I met with therapist in the morning for an hour then went to mental health office. It was an all day thing. Then I had to go back the next day (Wednesday), then again on Thursday. Taking care of yourself aint a punk.
So today was my first day I didn't have some medical professional evaluating me, which was lovely. I need a break. Like a real break. Like a rest as long as I can, go take a walk, breathe baby breathe break. Yesterday after I left the office my uncle and I went to the beach and walked in the sand. I got my feet wet and sucked in that good good air and sun. Like that kind of break. I didn't beach again today but I got up early and took a long walk. It was long enough for me anyway. I am about to publish my third book of poetry and musings and so I spent the day editing that. Sidenote, please buy it and like it and buy another copy when it comes out next month ok? It's called The Soundtrack of my Together.
Anyway, it's 9:11pm and I still haven't posted my poem of the day yet. I'm on this A poem a day for 2013 journey and I'm like on day 228 or something like that and I need to post before midnight soooo... I'm off for now. I'll connect soon.