I really wanted to take a mental health day this week on the post but then I realized how ironic that would be seeing how this is blog is about mental health. The reasoning behind this desire was that I had a pretty crappy weekend last weekend (well if you call going to jail crappy, which I do). I can’t get into the details because the case is still pending and, you know what, that’s a lie. I just plain would rather not talk about it. However I can say with quite confidence that as bad as jail is, it’s got nothing on a psych ward.
That was actually the first words that came out of my mouth when I saw my parents once I was released last weekend (they’re real proud of me). I by no means want to downplay my experience locked up because it did suck something fierce but at least I knew what was going on. While in there I was still cognitive of what was going on around me, why I was in the place I was in, and knew eventually what would come of myself in there. When I’m in the wards, it’s anything but that.
Doing time on the wards for me is usually filled with my mind racing as fast as it can trying to keep up with my next thought. I’m lost within a world that I keep changing and altering in order to fulfill some reality I’ve created in my mind. I have no idea where I truly am or where I’ll end up. The wards are a giant puzzle in my head that the pieces keep changing shape and color whenever I look away, its mass confusion to the point of terrifying.
Eventually though I do settle down in the wards a little and the world does slowly come back to me. For the first few weeks I’m usually out of the hospital I imagine my mind works like everyone else’s usually does. Instead of jumping from one idea to the next I’m able to focus and concentrate. The clarity of the world comes into view for me and I spend hours doing nothing (and love every minute). I can recall my dad laughing when I told him I’d literally spend hours at Target or Kroger not needing anything but just shopping right after I left the wards just because I could without my mind pushing me elsewhere.
It’s difficult to probably relate for most because what I’m describing is more than likely a natural part of you non-crazies out there. You probably weren’t the kid who was always asked to speed read in school if the period was running down. Or constantly reminded to slow down whenever an oral (haha, oral) presentation was being given. I don’t exactly know why but whenever I did these things it was always a game to me; a challenge of myself to see how fast I could get my mind to go. Pushing my mind to its limits just to see if I could get there only to suddenly come to the realization that I was just deciding on what type of deli meat to get at Krogers (my mind can be a tricky bastard like that).
I must admit I do miss those few weeks after the psych ward from time to time now. This is especially true when things seem to be coming at me faster than I can keep up (like getting arrested). I liked spending hours in a grocery store thinking about nothing but what I might be hungry for later that day. Nowadays I seem too busy or in a hurry to even realize what’s going on right in front of me. I’m too infatuated with attempting to keep up with my speeding mind that I just can’t seem to slow down and enjoy the ride.
Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
Coming Correct,
d01roK
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