Then today at work this woman called, and I was totally sure it was a person who I knew once years ago who I would really, really not want to be in contact with again, and who I would not want to know my whereabouts at all, and so I started freaking out about that and how she tracked me down, so I changed some settings on Facebook to make it harder for her to harass me. And I was sure, because I work in a call center, that I was being monitored today by my boss, but then when my boss left, I still kept hearing the noises on the phone that would indicate someone was monitoring me. So I thought it was my boss's boss, and then I thought it was the police or the FBI. Another person called and she said something to the effect of "we got you" or "you can't get out", something like that, I can't remember the exact words, and I knew what she meant and it had nothing to do with my job. Another woman called and she said, "you're okay, Jennifer," and I thought, oh, this is someone who's in on it but is trying to be nice to me.
And all along I knew none of this was really happening. Probably.
I think I mentioned in my previous post, which was all of yesterday (yes, I have been posting a lot of misery here lately, sorry) that I feared psychotic symptoms were starting up again. And they are.
Who knows how far down the rabbit hole I will go. But I will not go willingly, that much is for sure.
The mental health agency that owns my apartment is screwing over the people who live here. It is a long and rather sordid tale, and I don't feel comfortable giving out too much personal details about where I live right now here, so I'm not going into it, but suffice it to say, I have been through hell over this situation and I am still in the situation. I really wish these people would think about who they're dealing with here. It is, after all, A FUCKING COMMUNITY MENTAL HEALTH AGENCY, which might lend one to believe they should be concerned about their tenants' mental health. And they obviously are not. I am not the only emotional wreck in the building right now. My neighbor below was told she had to move with less than two weeks notice; she is very upset, and I don't blame her.
I'm tired of dealing with this situation, but it's not going to end any time soon, because of the circumstances. So all I can do is try to hold on tightly to the sanity I do have and watch carefully whatever happens with the sanity I lack.
I will get through this. I can get through a lot of things. So I can get through this. I am sick to my stomach at all times, a frenetic, disorganized disaster and an emotional wreck with a mind that won't work correctly and experiencing psychotic symptoms, but I will get through this.
My friend Kate sent me a nice care package the other day and it couldn't have come at a better time. I met Kate by writing this blog. So, this blog has had some positive effects on my life. It has given me a place for my voice. It has given me comrades in the throes of it with me. It has given me a home where I can let out who I really am any time I want. It has given me solace. It has given me a way to track my symptoms, and monitor the highs, the lows, the medications' side effects, and what triggers me to have more symptoms. Without this blog I might not know that stress can cause me to be where I currently am mentally, and that as long as that stress continues, the symptoms will likely continue as well.
Above all, this blog has given me a way to tell my story of how I survived suicide, so it would be antithetical to come here and write about the aftermath of that for six years, and then go and kill myself. I will not kill myself. I will continue the "good" fight, though it doesn't always feel so good.
One of my favorite poem bits:
A lively understandable spirit
Once entertained you.
It will come again.
— Theodore Roethke