The psychiatric hospital helped throw me into the trenches of psychology, my own mental health has been severely tested, and hasn't necessarily remained intact. In the course of this position at the adolescent lock-down ward, I'd had a pee-soaked blanket thrown in my face, groped twice, ass-slapped once, and was even attacked by a coworker, verbally as it may be.
With all of these horrible experiences, I still come away with an incredible set of relationships, contributions and memories.
The last few months have been a revelation. I have dedicated 5 years (and about $100,000) to prepare for a grad degree in psychology, but due to who knows what, I have decided to pursue a new direction--design.
I hate the way so many people glorify their own revelations but fail to acknowledge the nitty-gritty, the anxiety, the depression, the self-loathing. My "revelation" was ugly. I was consumed with fear, but I wasn't sure what I was afraid of, which was further horrifying. How can I fix myself when I can pinpoint what's broken? But, with the help of some do-gooder antidepressants, therapy and, more importantly, friends and family (including my cats Rexy and November) I'm coming out of my funk with a new optimism for my future.
I think its ironic how I've been a dedicated (until recently) student of psychology for years but just last month my mind prevented me from functioning like I had been any further. I ended up going to the ER, diagnosed with a panic attack, took a Xanax and took a nap.
Now, I'm back in Boston taking it easy and focusing on myself.
Goals: worry less, criticize self and others less, love self more, etc...
Until next blog...
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