Grow Up Lola

I had a conversation with a friend tonight that knocked some sense into me. I’m sitting here whining about this and that…about how the hospital treated me, etc. And you know what – its true it wasn’t right and yes I’m going to follow through with the complaint because its the right thing to do, but I put myself in that situation. I looked at the psychiatric unit as a safe place to be for a few days when it really isn’t. Its an acute care unit to be stabilized in a crisis. They don’t care about your rights or making you feel safe.

I also have brought the whole talk of residential on myself. I’m out of control – landing myself in the hospital like every 3 months. If I keep it up, I may have no option but some sort of residential place or a lock down group home because my insurance may not pay for anything else. As my friend put it, I’m giving away my rights here…willingly. I want to work towards a normal life, not a life in a group home! My case manager brags how I’m her highest functioning client…I don’t want that changing!

This isn’t what I want my life to be – 8 times in the hospital in 2 years. This isn’t me. I can’t blame this on dad dying anymore, I have no one to blame but myself. Yes, I have issues but so do a million other people out there! So do a ton of my friends and they are managing to function without ending up in the hospital every time they turn around. I’d better grow the heck up before I end up being treated like a child forever, locked up and locked down.

I need to swallow my pride and do DBT, stop playing the poor me card, and get it together.