Autumn: My Favorite Time of The Year

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Autumn is hands down my favorite time of the year. The weather gets cooler in Pennsylvania, the leaves start to turn beautiful colors before gliding to the ground, it’s hoodie weather, plus, let’s not forget Halloween! I am also one of those pumpkin spice coffee lovers as well! I just love the Fall season! I hate summer even though I am a Leo; a summer baby.

I have been keeping busy lately. I have been helping my friend’s boss launch her business and organization websites. I have also been writing a pretty decent amount and spending time with friends and loved ones.

I am also working with my friend and new publisher, Jess, to start re-editing my book. We’re making some changes with it and hope to get it re-released before the year is over. It’s incredibly exciting. Jess and I just click and I fully trust her judgment. I have less anxiety about re-releasing my book with Jess than I did with my former publisher. That right there is a good feeling.

When it comes to my mood, however, I am still all over the place. I honestly can’t tell if the Abilify is helping. I guess at least I am not experiencing any bad side effects as I have been with like my last five bipolar meds. I just want to feel fully okay again. I have some good days, but I feel like the bad days are still stronger.

My last two therapy sessions also really sucked and I am being told that I am too unstable and depressed. Things that I already know to be true but hate hearing. I feel like I can hide my moods better than I actually do. But every time my therapist seems to either see right through me or gets it completely twisted.

I feel like the people in my life get so sick of my ups and downs so I try to hide them the best that I can. Sometimes my emotions are easier to hide some days more than others. Everything depends on how high or low my mood is.

Is stability too much to ask for?

About a week ago, my foot got really, really sore and it hurt to walk so I went to an Emergicare center and they did an x-ray and told me that I just have a sprained foot.

The funny thing is, I have no idea how I actually sprained it. I am so clumsy that it could have been from anything. I could have tripped, my mom’s dog could’ve stomped on it again, the possibilities really are endless.

Then yesterday, I tripped over a box trying to go up my mom’s steps and I felt/heard a pop come from my foot and it started to hurt even worse. It was my left foot – the one that was already sprained. So, I got a friend to take me to the ER where they did even more x-rays just to tell me that I further aggravated my sprain and that there was nothing they could do for me but ace wrap it and put me back in that annoying boot pictured above.

Something for pain would have been appreciated, anything, but thanks to the opioid epidemic they don’t prescribe shit for pain anymore. I was told to ice it and take ibuprofen which is what I have been doing since last week sometime.

The pain was so intense that I had gotten the urge to try to look for something on the streets to dull the pain a bit. A drink even sounded lovely. But I did nothing and just took some more ibuprofen which didn’t even make a dent.

Because they don’t really prescribe pain meds anymore to those that actually need it, I find that far too many people are looking toward the streets to find relief in any way they can. It’s kind of bullshit in away. And they wonder why more and more people are developing addictions to things harder than Vicodin and Percocet or to things that are illegal. But that is a rant for another day.

Something is holding me back from receiving extra mental health treatment that I probably could benefit from…

My therapist recommends highly that I go for another round at their partial hospitalization program called Adult Transitions. I’ve been there maybe 4 or 5 times. I’ll admit, it helps a little bit. But while in treatment there I wouldn’t be able to see my regular mental health care team. Instead, I would have to work closely with the clinic’s PA who I just really don’t get along with anymore.

She’s the one who once told me that there was no point in prescribing more meds for me because nothing will help [me] anyway. She treats me like I am just some alcoholic junkie no matter how much clean time I get under my belt. I wouldn’t tolerate her attitude toward me anymore and refused to see her ever again. However, since she also works at the partial hospitalization program I would have no choice but to see her if I went there.

I am letting that stop me from getting the additional treatment that may actually be really good for me. Is that being stubborn or standing up for myself? I said I would go to AT if I didn’t have to see the PA but they can’t work around that. I’m damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.

My therapist seems to think it’s not a good enough reason to skip out on the extra treatment but I tolerated the PA’s behavior for years before I finally – and recently – stood up for myself. Now, it seems like I’m supposed to tolerate getting treated like crap in order to get help from this program. I feel like I am being put in a sticky situation so I end up avoiding the situation altogether.

I’m an avoider. It’s what I do when I can’t deal with things. I either clam up and shut down or run in the opposite direction. I know a few other people who go to the same Mental Health Clinic that I do and they all have the same opinion about the PA as I do. She’s overworked and her bedside manners have gone out the window.

So what am I supposed to do?

It’s not a fair decision to have to push on anyone and sometimes I feel like I am the only one who gets that.

My disability hearing is also coming up next month and I am really starting to freak out. My lawyer doesn’t want to prep me until the day of the hearing and I am losing my mind not knowing what to expect. What if I go to my hearing and have a meltdown and panic attack like I did when I met with my lawyer for the first time? I’m so paranoid and nervous and my fate is in the hands of some judge who doesn’t even know me.

Until next time…

Samantha