Archive for April 27th, 2007


So I hope “all y’all” aren’t getting sick of my blogging about the psych ward. Sorry previous incarnation of PA there…no she doesn’t think she’s from some part of the US where that term is prominent; she actually thinks she’s from the UK. 

I guess that’s about all that’s going on right now and I don’t know if I have the brain power to blog about anything else or the time as sometimes I have to “share” this little toy that we nutters all play with.  Yes, PA always shares her toys.  Except her MacBook.

But who knows? The Seroquel might turn me into (more of) a blithering idiot and I might not be able to blog at all for a bit? Doubtful.  I’m a junkie.  I’ll just perhaps make no sense.  Or less sense.

I had this great song that’s really appropriate and as I can’t stream music over here at WP, I was going to post a YouTube clip but there’s a version of Flash on this piece of junk where I sit typing that’s too old.  So I started monkeying and tried to download a newer version of it and I can’t.  First, I kept getting broken images on the screen and when I downloaded Firefox and tried to do it via that, I got an error about not having Administrative Priviledges–but I can’t see that having anything to do with anything.  It’s the machine.  I had to download the Firefox App. to the Desktop and not even to the HDD!

I’m tempted to post the clip anyway but I just can’t without viewing it first.  That would be irresponsible blogging! Like I don’t do enough of that already?

*ponders*

So I finally heard from my sister.  Apologies abound but at least we are now in contact.  Better late than never? I suppose she can’t help it.  Well, maybe she can.  I don’t know.  She avoids the phone like I do if a number isn’t recognized but at least I pick up my messages.  I just blame everything we do on how badly our parents screwed us up, over, backwards, sideways and twice on Sundays.

Things are actually going a bit better here.  I’m engaging more with some of the other crazies.  I’ve dragged myself to “group” a couple of times.  Once to “Music Therapy” where a guy just brought in a bunch of CDs and if we liked a song, we were to pick it, he’d play it and we could all talk about it.  There was at least one CD that had a particular favourite of mine that makes me think of Bipolar so that was appropriate.  Some of the CDs were pathetically generic though so, not to sound like a music snob but I got bored.  I did kind of get a chance to geek out and talk about music though.  That was yesterday.

Today was a CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) Group.  That was a little rough and extremely anxiety provoking.  I still worked hard at opening my mouth–much more difficult than talking about music though! They even gave homework! I am to pick a “mood” and then chart all the actions I do in three hour blocks and then rate my chosen mood on a scale.  Dear me.  Then it is to be reviewed next week.  Ha…if I show up? No, I should probably go…

…guilt, guilt, guilt…

I’ve never done CBT and because I’m such a screw up and spend so much time in my head and being so reactionary maybe it might help?

So do you want to know the songs? *smiles deviously*


Oh this is funny.  So far there are four of us (gays, lesbians, queers–whatever…) on the ward.  Well, three confirmed and one, well if I’m not totally out of my mind and in a psych facility right now, then he is surely gay too.  I don’t know how many people are on the ward but not that many.  So the ratio is pretty good, I think.  Straight to gay, perhaps 4:1? At least 5:1, definitely.  That’s pretty good!

Oh, one guy is too much.  My gaydar was kind of buzzing even though I’m a total space cadet right now.  And as soon as he mentioned that his nickname was “disco” when someone asked him what kind of music he liked and said the only thing he was good at was decorating that absolutely clinched it.  Sorry, sterotypes I know but his mannerisms, voice–it was the whole package. 

Another woman is older and she said she was married for many, many years (sorry, can’t remember exact number but it was a long time) so I gathered that she had just recently “come out.”  I told her that’s okay–I was a bit of a “late bloomer” too and it really doesn’t matter at all.  It really doesn’t.  She spoke a bit about her “girlfriend.” So that was nice. 

She said she could tell about me by my boots.  I sort of laughed as I have my Blundstones with me.  She said a lot of her friends wear them.  I didn’t think Blundstones were big dyke accessories–I just switched to them as someone told me they were more comfortable then my traditional Dr. Martens (of which I have a few pairs in many different styles.)  Well, they’re wrong! I still prefer Docs! And really, I don’t exactly *look* gay…so I guess you’d have to tell from something?! At least I don’t think I look gay…  No, by the amount of men I seem to draw in…nope.  Whatever…I mean I don’t draw in *that* many men.  That just sounds terribly wrong and egotistical.  I guess I’m just trying to say I must look “straight.”  Ugh, labels again.

And if you’re really curious about lesbian footwear, well in the summer here, watch out for the Birkenstocks! And no I don’t own a pair.  I have hyposensitive feet and it’s taken me years to actually wear sandals without socks.  I know, everyone says it’s a major fashion faux pas but sometimes I like to look like a hippie, tree hugger.  And I really don’t give a toss about “fashion” anyway.  I used to (to a small degree?) but I would always break the rules of it anyway.

So yes, I’ve been tempted to ask ex-partner to bring in one of my rainbow flags in celebration! We’ve (well funny guy and I) have already started talking about “redecorating” this place.  It has that “institutional charm”–if there is such a thing–as it’s a real relic and has been around for a long time.  It has a huge history and some of it not so nice.  They did *bad* things here back it they day, I believe, if my memory serves me correctly.  I should look into it when I get out. 

Anyway, it’s all just talk…I doubt we’ll pink it up or start painting any rainbows anywhere.  We’d just get in trouble,  but what fun is it if you can’t do crazy things in a psych ward? (See again my 5th psych hospitalization under “Hospitalizations” category if you haven’t already.)  But I’m a bit older now.  More mature? Hopefully a bit wiser but I don’t really know about that one.

So this has all been a light hearted post so far but I’m a bit confused and kind of hurt and angered about this one.  I’ve called my sister, emailed–well late last night so she may not have read it–and nothing.  Hi, your sister is in the loony bin so…um…pick up the phone, call back and/or leave a mesage? I do have my cell phone with me.

Now she and I are close.  Not geographically but well…there are some lapses in communication at times (well, most times…welcome to my support network) but still.  She knows how the defeaning silence of our parents (and more than that) affected us, so has she no clue how I might be feeling by her lack of response?

Ex-partner is pissed about it and threatening to call and leave a rather pointed message about how I need to hear from her.  Me being typically conflict avoidant just wants to sit away and rot here and “just wait” for my sister to get back to me in due course. 

Fuck it.  Let’s just oraganize a little Gay Pride Parade in the mean time.

*sigh*

EDIT: Just met with the psych team and because my anxiety is out of control, I’m agoraphobic, becoming “institutionalized” and can’t sleep I’m going on a small dose of Seroquel erm…25mg and I think b.i.d (twice daily…once at beddy bye time.) Woo hoo…I’m on a fine cocktail now.  And I thought I’d be lucky if they’d give me a bloody benzo.

I also spoke to the OT as I walked in on an entire group meeting about things here and asked about deep touch pressure and if they offer that.  No, I’m not trying to get myself into another straightjacket because I doubt they have any of those here but a weighted vest or something like that might be helpful? I need to calm the hell down.  She did know some of what I was talking about and I did reference Temple Grandin and all of that so I didn’t sound completely out of my mind.  Like I said, what’s the point if you can’t have fun in a psych ward.

She told me to speak to the psychiatrist about it.  Round, round we go.