Getting My Bearings

So, ‘sup?

Been a while, yeah?

Sorry.  August has been a very tough month for me, mentally and physically, so I haven’t really been up for loud ranting and raving, though there is so much to rant and rave about.  It can be overwhelming at times.

It’s strange.  One deleted comment after my “whiny gamerbro” post suggested that I “get therapy”.  Funny, I’ve been in therapy for years, and still think gamerbros are whiny entitled babies who don’t want to share their toys, so take that, anonymous asshole.

There’s so gentle way to get into this, so here goes.  I admitted myself into a hospital a couple of weeks ago for suicidal thoughts and a plan. I’ll spare you the details, but it was just what I needed.  I managed to get out, feeling better, just in time for the Secular Women Work conference here in town.  It felt so good to see some of the people who’d be rooting for me up close and huggable.

And holy cow, how much rooting did I get!  I got well wishes on Facebook that a dear friend printed out for me (since they took my phone away), and stuffed animals and make up and gift cards and so many people wishing me well and health and to return.

…and thanking me for knowing when and how to get help.  That’s the hard part.  It always is.  Going from “well, this is it” to “well, maybe I should reach out” is a big leap.  But so far, I’m glad I made the jump.

So, I’m getting my bearings, getting used to new meds, looking to get a new psychiatrist (the last one can eat glass), and getting back into the swing of things.  While I was in the hospital, I filled journals with my days and my thoughts, and I might share them here.  I think people need to know what it’s like to be Black and mentally ill. But don’t worry.  I’m back, I’m gearing up for some of the old ultra-snark, and I can’t even leave anyway…Weasel said so.

He’s sitting on my shoes, y’all. I can’t leave the how #catlogic