Hi wonderful people of TS. I thought I’d check in here for a change. It’s a bit of a long post, so bear with.
You know when you’re having trouble sleeping and all kinds of thoughts run through your head? Many times it can be embarrassing things that you’ve done in the past, like many memes on the internet suggest. I have those sometime too, but this time I’m livid. And it’s not because of embarrassing things that I’ve done.
I can’t sleep because I’m angry at things that happened to me, where I felt that I was mistreated or taken advantage of.
So some background. I was bullied at school, and I’ve always felt that it affected me in such a way that I somehow always fell short for attention. By the time I was in high school the bullying was non existent, but I can see now how I behaved rather desperately to keep friendships. I would brake my own boundaries, quite easily, to get the acceptance from people. I didn’t understand this at the time, I was young and naive, but I see it now.
So I’m just kinda processing this in writing now, and am not sure where I’m going with this. Maybe I just need to get this off my chest so I can go back to sleep. It’s past midnight, around 3am so I rather sleep.
It’s just that there are some events or chain of events, that I’m angry about, or that is occupying my thoughts. So, I had a psychosis in 2005, and life after that was a bit of a shit show for a bit. I was afraid to talk about all of the symptoms that I had, I was afraid of the stigma that mental illnesses have, and also I really didn’t understand then what had happened to me, and I didn’t quite have the words, it was just such a unique, and scary experience. And looking back now, I was 24 years old, I didn’t understand life that much. Well, compared to now. Can’t say that I have to all figured out now either, but time has passed and I have gathered experiences in that time.
Anyhow, I was able to get some help from doctors, and all, but inside I was a ticking time bomb, if you don’t mind the metaphor. But I was able to do some work and have some kind of a social life, but in 2008 that sort of slowly shifted. I was working a job that was too much for me, and it was wee bit of a triggering environment, I was working as a teacher’s assistant in a school. I got the job via an acquaintance, she worked as a teacher there.
I started slowly getting more anxious there and displaying unusual behaviour. And I remember it was the last week of school before summer holidays, my mum called me at work, and said to that she thinks it’s best that we go to a psychiatric hospital. She said that she was worried about me. I was hesitant at first, but because I was feeling so burned out, I didn’t have the capacity to resist. Anyway, long story short, I went, they took me in, and I stayed there for four months.
Now what bothers me, is that this teacher, the acquaintance, vaguely knew my mum, and together with two other ladies, who all sort of knew each other, they talked about me behind my back, about my behaviour, that I had been displaying. Two of them were nurses, so they understood that I needed help. But how I wish that they would’ve talked to me about it too. Yes I understand that I might have not been in a mental state to understand and hear all that they would’ve said, but now we’ll never know. And I understand that they did the best they could in that situation, they were worried about me. I just think that I would like to have been involved somehow. A year later I did talk with them, the three ladies and my mum, separately though. One of them got a bit defensive, but the rest understood where I was coming from.
And to be frank, I don’t know if they could’ve handled the situation any better, but I’m just here, replaying the situation in my head and the anger I felt then. And still do evidently. Should they have had an intervention for me, I don’t know. I mean I knew something was wrong with me, but I wasn’t willing to accept the gravity of it.
But there’s nothing I can do that would change the past. What I can do now, is deal with these thoughts and emotions.
I’m also angry at myself, how I’ve let myself be taken advantage of, because I’ve been too kind at times. Because I was bullied, and therefore desperate not to lose friends. Maybe that’s post for another time, I’m starting to get tired, yay! Anyway, once again, I cannot change what happened, but I can learn from it. I don’t have to be a dick, but I don’t have to be a push-over either.
Thanks for reading.