I believe the mind is capable of both extraordinary things and surprises you as well with its ability to conform and process new information. I also believe these abilities can be veiled in negative consequences. For me one of those blessings/curses is my gift of a decent memory capacity, especially for long term memorization. As a kid, remembering learning to love music and yearning to learn, I did not read many books at the time of development, but memorized music lyrics. It is not that I was incredibly turned off by books, I remember wanting to be outside in nature, repeating the latest song over and over in my head as I climbed trees and played on playgrounds. I later fell back in love with reading as a teenager due to the help of a very caring English teacher. Ms. Foley in high school. When that time rolled around I dove into books quite literally. If I wasn’t spending time with my family, I would be involved in a Victorian era historical or romantic fiction. I was a happy go lucky kid, protected from the evils of the world until I turned 18 years old. By that time, I was able to understand and process some events with more reasoning, yet still hit like a slowly moving freight train of negativity.

After turning 18 until present day, I constantly look for answers in fuzzy parts of my memory. These spots in my memory are historically caused by intense trauma or medication-induced sedation. I do not over analyze, yet to this day try to pinpoint answers. I reflect on my recent hospitalization and my recent re-traumatization of both bad and good memories of in-patient stays come flooding back to my mind. I try to filter out the bad, focusing on the positives. It is not so easy when you have so many traumatizing experiences. An example would be when I was safely admitted through the ER on 4/28, I believed myself to be restrained in a portable hospital bed, where in fact they were just seatbelts to keep me from falling off and to protect me. They gladly loosened them when I expressed frustration over the straps. I attribute this some to a fight or flight anxiety response, but secondly to my memories historic usefulness in that moment. Once I was drugged up with several doses of a heavy hitting drug named Haldol, I was completely out of it, and my memory is spotty concerning the next 24 hours at least. On 4/29, what I remember was seeing my hands and myself akin to a feeling of intermittent sleep walking, remembering here and there moments standing, regardless of my fall risk, and my determination to get up. I was like a carefully walking zombie as I tried to graze my hospital floors, unbeknownst to my surroundings.

Given that information, I have not tried to pinpoint what caused my re-traumatization of my recent hospital stay, but 1) recognize my mood was in an uncontrollable state and I needed the medication. 2) that the staff did their best given the circumstances and 3) to forgive any hurt I experienced and move forward. This is difficult do but I have practiced these techniques before in addressing my existing trauma. What is new to me is understanding in the moment, to be more aware of my surroundings, and advocate better for what I need in that moment I might be having difficulties.

What I choose to do is accept this last hospitalization for face value and to be grateful they could break the mania/psychosis cycle in its tracks. I am tired. Tired of looking for answers. My brain is still recovering and is in “thought school”, where I re-train my brain on basics through repetition and acknowledgement for what I am re-experiencing. My solution is to track those environmental triggers better to keep them at bay and to protect myself in the future.

Below are some good memories of processing my thoughts in group therapy sessions at the hospital:

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