5 Hours in the ER and a Can of Soup

I spent 5 hours in the local ER this past Sunday, in the hopes that I would be admitted into the hospital’s behavioral medicine unit. They had no beds available. Instead, I was given a prescription to be off of school and work for the week. I have pretty much laid in bed, since.

My anxiety has moved somewhere within me, to a place I cannot connect to. I am not sure how good, or how bad, that is. Does it mean a break like this has helped ease the anxiety or is the anxiety just gearing up to jump out when I least expect it? I simply do not know.

Physically, I feel as though I am recovering from an awful fever. I have no energy and am sleeping much too much. Each day, I have had guyom.deviantart.comenough energy to do one or two things around the house, and then I am spent; legs aching, arms tired, ankles feeling as though I have been on my feet all day.

I do not know how I can call off of work, as the team I am a part of is stretched thin as it is from people quitting and not giving notice. How can I then say, “I am sick. Pretty sick, actually and need time off”? I can not.

I do not think pretzels are what the attending ER psychiatrist wanted me to be living on, but for the life of me, I cannot convince myself to open a can of soup. The funny thing is, when my husband came home Monday, I was able to find the energy to make homemade pizza, dough and all. We will count the fresh-sliced tomatoes as pizza sauce and conveniently forget the sauce that came out of the jar! =) It was quite good.

I think I am just very tired, on the inside and the outside. I think I am terribly lonely and do not know how to deal with that fact. Not having a face to talk to, a face to call friend, takes more of a toll on someone with BPD than you can ever imagine.

But I will be fine. I always am.

Be blessed.


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