Monday, July 30, 2012

Shaking and indecisive

Today I went to my partial hospitalization program.  I'm feeling really weak and shaky today.  I'm not entirely sure why.  Maybe it's the 8 days without medication?  Maybe it's just pure exhaustion?  Maybe it's the 20 hours of sleep in 8 days?

The partial program is a good program.  It really is.  The staff their are compassionate and warm.  The people are...  well, that varies.  There are some really strange people and then there are some extremely normal, warm, successful, amazing people.  At least that's what I thought last time.  This time I feel so judgemental all the time.  I sit in a chair thinking judgmental thoughts as people share things about their lives and pain and what led them to the hospital.  I feel awful for it, but I can't make myself stop.  I feel awful that while I listen to someone crying, I think they are pathetic and envy their problems.  I wish I had a mother that didn't give me enough space.  I wish I had a father that nagged me too much.  I wish I had a family that pressured me to do well in college, who pay for my tuition and require me to keep a 3.0 GPA.  I wish I was super stressed out about buying a second house.  It's awful.  These people should be able to share without being judged like I judge them.  And I hate myself the minute I do, but I can't stop.  Then I look around the room and realize all these people that I am judging have people that want them.  All these people have families, friends, spouses, partners...  In a room full of hopeless mentally ill people, I am the least wanted.  I am the least lovable because even the girl who acts like a needy, pouty child, and always carries around and talks a stuffed penguin has a family that loves and adores her.  Even the 700 lb man in his forties talks about how much he misses living with his mom because she can't smother him with love from her house six mix miles away from him.  Even the raging, scary, aggressive 30 something man has a family that loves him.  In this group of something like 20 crazy, mentally ill people, I am the most pathetic.  I judge these people, but I am the one with the least amount of hope for the future.

Today I went to these groups:

Breaking down barriers
Process Group
Coping with Change
Self Esteem group.

In the breaking down barriers I was asked to pick one thing that is holding me back in life.  We just had to pick one.  I said my inability to trust is probably one of the biggest.  Then they asked me what I could do to change it.  I could not think of how to change that.  Trust is just something you just have or you don't have.  The therapist said that coming to the program was a step I was taking to change it.  Yeah, that's a stretch, but I went with it.  Then the therapist said, "Well, what about your family?  You know that they care because they have stuck it out with you, right?"  I said, "I don't have a family.  I grew up in foster care."  Which lead to a bunch of questions that I gave vague answers for.  Then she said, "Well you have to give people a chance or else it just becomes a self fulfilling prophecy."  It was a strange moment because a friend just told me last night that the end of our friendship was a self fulfilled prophecy.  I'm sure it is.  But I don't know how to change it.  If you are asked to jump out of a burning building into a giant net by people below repeatedly, and they always let you hit the ground, you're not really going to want to jump anymore.  And eventually you stop believing anyone is going to catch you.  But you are going to die if you stay in the building.  Which do you choose?  So how do I let myself jump out of a window when all I can think about is how much it's going to hurt when I hit the ground?

I've been obsessing over this paperwork that I have to do.  I cannot make a decision.  They are letting me fill it out and then take it to the FBI office in Los Angeles instead of Arizona.  I filled it out, but I cannot make a decision.  Do I want to be notified?  Do I not want to be notified?  Do I want someone else to be notified?  I can't make a decision.  I filled it out on Wednesday but I broke down and fell apart before I could finish it.  I was insane about it all day.  Even touching these papers sends me spiraling.  Yeah, I blocked out information with my medications.  Haha!  Which came first?  The crazy (and need for medication) or the and sexual abuse (and child pornography)?