i was able to delay hospitalization until this wed, 12/26.  i got sent in NOT for ever saying i wanted to hurt myself in any way, but because i was crying uncontrollably and my clinician and psychiatrist both felt that i needed a serious med change and some extensive lab work done, because for the last month i've been fainting or near fainting a whole fuckload lot.  (note: both of those things could have been done outpatient, and the former really didn't have any chance of success being done inpatient, considering the length of time it takes to stabilize pharmaceuticals.)  but since my old therapist, new therapist, day program clinician, and day program psychiatrist ALL seemed to think it was a bright idea for someone so dispairing, off i went.

i realize NOW why i was so abmivalent.  on the one hand was my desperation to be taken care of, since i never really have been taken care of in a meaningful, longterm way.  on the other hand was this funny feeling i couldn't identify until now - intuition.

BOY DO I LEARN THE HARD WAY.

i got sent to this fucked up unit in JP that was supposedly the "best" one.  i was told it was a 72 hr maximum crisis unit with all women and was ensured that unlike regular admission/discharge programs, this program DID discharge on weekends - i would be out friday or saturday at the latest.

when i get there, they tell me i'm there till monday.  i'm on a co-ed unit.  and even though i was told that i would be constantly engaged in group activities that would more intensively address my healing process than the day program would, i A) couldn't attend meetings because none were gender separated and B) discovered upon reviewing the schedule that the group topics ranged from "hygeine" to "boardgames" to my personal favorite - "health walk."  what a fucking joke.

but to make things worse, i made a 'friend' there who seemed super cool.  she asked me why i was so distressed and i told her about how when i worked as a counselor a client raped me and then reported me as his abuser and how now for the next seven years i have the threat of a subpoena to court for allegations of criminal assault against a disabled person hanging over my head.  awesome.  someone here that i can talk to; confide it.

but wait!  it gets better!  she told everyone on the ward i was on lockdown because i was a child molestor, and i began receiving death threats from everyone on unit.  anytime i left my room, they would all loudly make fun of me as if i couldn't hear (just like my roommates do).  of course nobody touched me, because they'd get stabbed with a sedative faster than you can say psycho.  but it was still quite uncomfortable and i spent two days isolated in my room, shitty, considering my hugest phobia is being alone.  except this time i didn't have my one coping mechanism - calling friends - to help me through the hours.  so i was left to my own devices.

i did yoga, wrote peotry, played sudoku, and cried until my tear ducts ran dry (reference to ani difranco).  but it was still shitty as hell.  with no clean clothes and no toiletries i was a grimey little shit.

luckily, the clinicians at arbour jp were not nearly as ignorant as ms. aimee moreno at arbour hri - and after two clinicians each met with me for a half hour each, they immediately determined that the placement was totally innapropriate and they let me walk myself home this morning.

i went back to the day program, where i let aimee know that my trust in her was broken and i wanted a new clinician.  she was, understandably, quite hurt and argued that she had worked extremely hard to support me for the last six weeks and that i needed to consider that in my decision (what she doesn't know was i was asking vivian - another clinician - after week two to switch me to her care because i have never liked aimee) but i stood my ground, and while she called it "engaging in a power struggle," i called it "finally finding my voice and realizing that i can and must look out for and advocate for myself."  had i not gone to the hospital i might never have learned that.  and had i not advocated for myself initially, i'd still be on lockdown right now.

anyway, it was great to see my friends at the day program, and one of the patients i knew immediately was m****e, and i was psyched because i knew her from "outside" - and she was the second person in the program i knew from "outside" believe it or not.  neither of us could remember where we knew each other from though.  we traded numbers and made plans to hang out in coolidge corner this afternoon.

but as she was leaving, she mentioned that her ride was picking her up.  i asked her whether it was friends or family.  and she said it was staff from her program.  what's your program m****e?  k******y house, she replies.  guess what k******y house is?  part of MCS.  That's right - we knew each other because she used to be under my supervision when i was a conselor, back before i got raped and slapped with criminal charges.

fabulous.  now i have a friend who i could potentially be arrested for even speaking to, considering the very clear message from MCS that i was to have no contact with any of their clients, clients families, or to come into contact with any of the property.  i am still waiting to find out from my attorney whether i can legally even attend this program while she is there.  i have a feeling i can't.


merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,


life is but a dream.




[i'd say "shoot me" but someone might send me back to the psych ward.  fucking euphamisms people, euphamisms.  different than threats.  christ.]