I'm going through a long and expensive process of getting a new diagnosis. I am on new meds now. Some professionals seem to think I'm bipolar. We'll see.
So yeah I was reckless with my health, I was overworked and constantly making overtime, and by the end of one sour week I was jobless, homeless, and wound up working with a charity and then later transferred from two separate hospitals to a behavioral health center (which was actually probably one of the most helpful places I'd visited for me to sort things out).
So yeah, kinda heavy news here. I would like to say the last thing I need right now is pity. I always felt annoyed when people just say "I'm sorry" to this sort of thing when they don't know what else to say. I know I'm guilty of that too, but some of my favorite responses have been words of wisdom, or gentle encouragement, or even from some of my closest friends just saying "I love you and I'm here for you," or something to that effect.
I've been plenty scolded by nurses and a few other people in my life (with very much good advice, to their credit).
So all that aside I've been reaching out to old friends in Ohio. I've been cleaning my room from adolescence and doing my best to ignore the news. It's one step at a time.
I was missing my friends from the west earlier, but I realized all of those friendships and bonds were made in the past three years. I'm still in contact with a lot of friends, and I'm still in my mid twenties. I have so much longer than three years left, and if I can build myself a happy social life in three years, then well... who knows? This chapter of my life is part of the adventure. It may seem like a step backwards, but life doesn't stop, even for these kinds of events.
I dunno. The glass is kinda at an equillibrium to me at this point.