When one door shuts another one opens. Got a call from my old friend A. who proved through a life long friendship sealed with champagne in the girls room of Majors Dorm at Wayland School graduation morning in May 1979. I always looked back on that with pain for what followed. Now i recall it with joy. I looked her up a month ago on Linkedin and we connected, turned out we had both had horrific experiences tecently. It seems that reconnecting helped us both to pull through. Well i cant speak for her but talking to her was a joy marred a little by interference from the powers that be here, but potent enough to help me turn the corner. I have been ill with c diff, the virulent gastrointestinal infection, for 3 weeks. I was in the hospital for 3 days, was discharged too early, and have been languishing here alone in a solitary room with my own toilet. I finally have a followup on Monday to see if i can get cleared to return to the milieu. In the meantime i have processed a whole lot of garbage and nonsense and, with the help of the phone call from A. yesterday i am laying down positive tracks to return to a more normal life outside of here. Its not a good fit here. This is predominantly a u.s. military setting and although my ex husband came from a Canadian military family, my own family background is so overwhelmingly British civillian that there us just NO WAY for me to fit here.
I have been worried about the plan to go to stay at my mothers house but its not written in stone. I havent wanted to be referred from here to another program as this went so badly. But i could be referred after i leave. My worry now is to assure that i have continuing care after i leave. The whole place turned against me over Bruce (whom i posted about) and if i dont have follow up care through this program i am back in the boat i was in that ultimately led to the suicide attempt, a total dearth of psych providers. I already looked up the provider i had finally found before i took the overdose , and she has left that practise.
They are throwing out the baby with the bathwater, but that’s their prerogative. Its all wrong but now im so sick of them i wouldnt stay even if it was offered. With all that’s gone on ive processed a piece of the “famous” ‘incident when i was 17’ with my Dad, along with everything else thats gone down; and i think that i am able to stay with them for a while. Thats the power if a lifelong friendship. It has set things right in the end. Tears if gratitude.
Un.Bon.Mot 