This is a Really Real Mental Health post.

Today, I don’t really have a goal in mind with this post.

I just feel like writing.

Normally, I switch to piano music while I write, today I’m leaving the pop music on.

Never mind, I can’t focus with the words in the music. I get swept away by the lyrics and can’t find my own words.

Heh, I know this, but yet I still try.

Piano music it is.

I had a really productive therapy session yesterday.

Followed by a really productive group therapy session.

Today I have my intake for the Partial Hospitalization Program, and there’s talk about them going back to in person, which as much as that scares me from a Corona standpoint, it would be much more helpful.

Much much more helpful.

I’m back to weighing my options with this inpatient program.

I was telling myself I had to do it, because of my relationship, because of the people around me, because of letting people down.

But not for me.

Not for me. The number one person this is important for.

And if I go in there so upset that I can’t breathe when I think about it, it’s not going to do any good.

Plus, I’ve healed from trauma in the past by doing other programs, outpatient, and other things. I was doing well, I was working, I was handling my shit.

And then a new trauma got piled on top. That says nothing about how much I had healed before, this just reopened old wounds and added new ones.

Maybe I don’t HAVE to do inpatient, maybe I can heal the same ways I’ve healed before.

Or maybe I will do inpatient.

Either way, it’s not a permanent decision.

I can check myself out (with 72 hours notice) if I’m inpatient and not a danger to myself.

I can get reevaluated for the program later if I decide not to do it now.

So, I don’t have to think in absolutes.

I’m not crying as hard or as often, although the tears do still sometimes flow.

This is hard hard stuff.

This is really real stuff.

This is the stuff my life is made of, or at least part of it. The trauma is only one part of me and I have to take care of all of me.

Which may mean avoiding an opportunity that has presented itself because I’d be giving up too much of ME.

I can do this again later when I don’t have holidays and a birthday coming up.

If I still need it later.

Or I can do it now.

I’m not sure.

But I know I have to make the decision for me. For what I feel is right.

Not because I’m worried about being judged from outside.

Not because I feel like I’m letting people down.

Not because I feel like I’m too much.

For me.

The hardest person there is for me to care for.