I’m Not Supposed to Be Here

I’m at home right now. Technically, I should be in the hospital. Or at least that’s what the doctor at the Mental Health Center told me on Wednesday. I decided to not go with her opinion since I didn’t think it was right. I also had an appointment yesterday with my old psychiatrist. I told him the same things I told the psychiatrist at Mental Health and he didn’t think I belonged in the hospital. I trust him more than some doctor who had never seen me before in her life.

I haven’t been able to talk to any of my friends yet from school. I’ve wanted to call Marakie since Wednesday, but my advisor and my field instructor had gone to the appointment with me so they think I’m in the hospital. I didn’t want her to say anything about talking to me and have it get back to one of them that I disregarded medical advice.

I’m withdrawing from school for this semester. Apparently, I’m too mentally ill to do my field placement. I thought I was doing a good job. I was assigned to the Boys and Girls Club. I was getting along with the kids, and sometimes they were listening to me. Somehow, though, I was the only one who thought I was doing a good job. My field supervisor thought that I wasn’t interacting with the kids enough and that I wasn’t assertive enough. She called the school and told them that my placement was close to being terminated. She also told them that I was wearing the same outfit everyday. Now, admittedly, when I don’t have to leave the house, I stay in my pajamas all day, but I always change clothes everyday. I was wearing different things everyday. I just wasn’t taking my jacket off. Since I was wearing jeans and the same jacket everyday, I guess it looked similar, but it wasn’t the same. How gross would that be?

I’m trying to work on writing a memoir right now. My mom suggested I use my diaries and journals that I’ve written in over the past 6 years, but I’ve lost a few of them and I haven’t written much lately. So far I have about 9 pages in the memoir. Five of those are the first 16 years of my life and the other 4 are from Wednesday and Thursday. I guess I’ll be able to fluff it out more with the journal entries that I can find. I can also use entries that I’ve posted online. It’ll just take me a while. I don’t know what to call it. What would you call a memoir about someone who is Bipolar & has BPD? I used to want to call it Incoherent, but I don’t know if that would work.

About Janet Morris

I'm from Huntsville, Alabama. I've got as many college credits as a doctorate candidate, and the GPA of some of them, too. I have a boss by the name of Amy Pond. She's a dachshund. My parents both grew up in Alabama.