The Second Morning

(These are a series of posts I hand wrote while I was inpatient on the crisis unit)

Trigger Warning: Suicidal Stuff

August 17, 2019 7:00 pm  48 hours on the Unit

This is a Really Real Mental Health Post.

Mood slowly rising but thoughts still whisper in the back of my head.

Safety surrounds me but plans still try and take shape.

It’s how I know I’m not ready.

Walking the halls, endless laps, straight lines, dead ends,

turn around and start again.

“2 south B it’s time for morning goals group.”

We somberly make our way to the activity room. Some of us doing the shuffle of too many meds, not enough sleep or simply lack of motivation to pick our feet up off the ground.

Depression is exhausting.

“My name is Tina my mood is a two I don’t have a goal.

The words come out in one rushed sentence.

“Why is your mood so low?”

“Because the thoughts won’t go away, my brain won’t cooperate.”

They move on to the next person.

Count down to the next meal. I’m eating too much in here and I know it, but there’s nothing else to do. Nothing else that I really get control over.

I need to get control over that though.

Maybe this isn’t the time to worry about weight. Maybe I can let that go for right now.

Visitors after lunch, the highlight of my day. One hours where I get to see a familiar face or two. And it starts and finishes with a hug.

I miss touch.

Even after just a few days I miss the comfort of cuddling with Wonder Woman. I miss hugging my friends. My brain is trying to kill me and I can’t curl up beside the woman I love.

But my brain is still trying to kill me.

That’s how I know I’m not ready.

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