I nearly was sent to the hospital yesterday afternoon. Not because of my psychiatric problems, though. We had to check our blood pressures in biology lab using an electronic machine and the first time I tried to check mine, there was an error. That didn’t shock me. My blood pressure is hard to read, for electronic machines and for people. The second time, my partner for the class started the machine pretty quickly and this time there was a reading. It was around 212/156. My blood pressure is NEVER that high (its usually 100/70), so I knew something was wrong. The teacher was called over and everyone had these concerned looks on their face. I think they were honestly about to call 911, when I finally was able to tell the teacher that there was an error that first time, so I thought something was wrong with how the second reading was done. She said it probably hadn’t completely deflated, so we waited a minute and checked again. The third time it came out at 140/90, which concerned me more than the 212/156 reading because I knew that this time was more realistic. I talked to my mom about it today and she said it was probably because it was a wrist cuff and the cuff was almost too small, so it got a high reading. Of course, my pulse was kind of high, too. It was 99 sitting down, which is higher than what it was last semester. I would check my pulse a few months ago and it would be 60-72. Maybe all of this stress stuff is putting more stress on my body.
I had another mini-meltdown last night (not as bad as Monday night), which I didn’t expect. I thought I was going to make it through the whole night without breaking down. I even took half a Klonopin after dinner so that I could take another half later, so that maybe I could extend the effects of it. It didn’t hep, though. By 9-10, I was crying. At one point, I was sitting on the floor pounding my knuckles into the tile. That was before I collapsed onto the floor and just kept crying. I finally got up and called home, but by the time I called home, I had calmed down some.
I’ve learned something. I may be able to express my depression and other problems really well through my blogging, but apparently, I’m doing a good job masking it offline because no one (except my family) suspects anything. I talked to that guy who asked for my phone number and we were talking about how the stressful stuff from schoolwork can drive you insane and I said something about being insane, and he said something to me about how I sure did hide it well.
I guess I’m just used to pretending that I’m fine because I don’t want to seem so crazy that I need to get locked up and I don’t want people to be afraid of me. I would love to be honest with everyone and say how bad I feel, but I don’t think people are ready to hear it. I think its easier for people to think that I’m okay than for them to see me how I truly feel. I don’t smile as much as I used to, so people who kind of know me, know something is up, but when I say, “I don’t feel good”, they just accept that. They don’t really push, and I don’t really just blurt out how I feel.
It’s amazing, I feel so free to talk about my problems on here, but I still am afraid of the possible repercussions of my roommate finding out. I don’t mind 6 billion other people having access to my thoughts and feelings, but I worry that if she finds out what her roommate really thinks and feels that I could be roommateless or roomless.
Jen, I have thought a lot about how I would carry out my suicidal thoughts. I sit in class some days and, while I’m taking notes, I’ll go through different scenarios in my head. Usually, its slitting my wrists, which I think is probably just because I’m familiar with razors and knives. Sometimes, my plan includes pills. If I’m in a really desperate situation, I’ll think about jumping off the roof of a building.
Oh, I have kind of decided something. If Beth doesn’t agree to put me in Comprehensive Care, then I may come clean with my Social Work advisor (who is also my Social Work teacher and who worked as a Social Worker for several years) to see if she has any advice for me. I figure that she should know some way that I can get the help I need. I do realize, though, that if I do that, and I go into some of the symptoms, that I may risk getting kicked out of the program. (She may recommend when I go for my interview that they don’t accept me.) I don’t know if she’s allowed to do that or not. It’s one of my fears, though.
I also want to thank everyone for their support and kind words.
ETA: I forgot to write about something interesting/scary that happened yesterday morning. Before I left for class, my mom and I were taking Xander, Molly, and Gretchen out to walk and there were 4 police cars outside the house. A police officer asked us if we knew who owned a Maroon car that was parked next to the house. We said we didn’t. We walked the dogs around the house and as we were getting to our side yard, we saw a police officer pull a bag from the car. It looked like it could’ve been marijuana. I thought I heard one of the police officers say something about the car possibly being stolen. I was a little worried. So, my mom and I headed back in to get my bag so I could go up to A&M. As we were about to head down the street, another police officer stopped us and asked us whether we knew who drove the car and if we’d let him/her into our house. We told him no. He asked (in an accusatory tone) if we thought anything would happen if dogs sniffed the yard looking for the driver. We said no. He let us go. It was really confusing, like he thought we automatically had to know who had driven the car because it was next to our house. Also, if there had been someone in the yard, then Molly would’ve tracked him. If there is one thing that she can do (as a Basset Hound), it is track things/people.