Treatment began for me in the spring of 2008 in the lovely city of Santa Barbara. Yes, the city was lovely. The program was not. The director was a mean lady who everyone hated. I hated her from the very beginning, when I saw the report she wrote based on our interview. She talked about me in a very condescending way, to say the least. And she misquoted my therapist, leading me to shoot my therapist a nasty email, and then I found out that my therapist never said I had that delusional belief which I didn’t have, so the mean director lady made it up. Out of thin air.
I didn’t know until I got there that they didn’t allow caffeine. See, I have some sort of undiscovered disorder where I must have stimulants in my system. If I don’t, I’m stuck on the level of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs where I am preoccupied with food. A cup or two of coffee and this preoccupation goes away. Lucky thing I was on Adderall. Problem: the doctor didn’t believe in prescription speed. So I had to sneak away and spend my money on energy drinks and shots of espresso. The funny thing about this program is that they only help people who they think are good enough for them, so when it became clear I was going to be kicked out I ran away and spent two days wandering the streets and the bars in downtown Santa Barbara and smoking coke with strangers in the bushes in the middle of the night. I met two guys at a bar and started hanging out with them. I asked them if they had any drugs, they told me they had methadone. So I took their methadone. And they kept giving me more and more methadone pills, and I just kept popping them, not knowing how long it stays in your system (and keeps you high, Jesus Christ).
Stuff happened, and I met my mom, high off my ass on methadone and Ritalin. I talked, cried, wept, and even managed to sleep at the hotel. Then off back to Portland, or so I thought. Dream-like things would happen in my waking state, yet somehow I knew what was just in my head and what was real. Except instead of going back to Portland, we went to Spokane. I woke up in another hotel with my parents, wondering why I was still high as fuck. Then off to this stupid place called Innercept.
Innercept is the name of the treatment center I am currently at. It gets it’s name because of this chart they have at almost all the campuses, where two lines intercept, making four quadrants. These quadrants represent your inner self, that’s where the “inner” comes from. Don’t ask me what I think of the name, because if you do I’ll tell you it’s the stupidest fucking name ever.
Anyway, so after a week of walking around in a fuzzy state of itchiness, the methadone wore off. And it was just me and the morning coffee and the boring groups. And then I got transition passes. Transition was the next stage of the program, where you have more freedom and things are better. Passes just mean you go for the day.
That’s when I started thinking too much, and before you know it I’m delusional again. There weren’t any hallucinations or anything, just some beliefs. And then I was happy, and I was walking around smiling and no one knew why. My passes got pulled, but I had my beliefs, and that was enough.
Then, I became undelusional. And somewhere along the way I attempted suicide. I’ll spare you the details, as this is a brief history. But sometimes, when things happen you feel like you’re supposed to commit suicide, like that’s the right thing to do or something. Yeah, I know that’s totally wrong. But anyway.
So this was a set back. And by this time I’d been at Innercept about six months. When suddenly, out of the blue, I started talking like a normal person! Excited by my new found ability to talk, I began feeling the need to fill any silence with the sound of me talking. Then people told me they didn’t like it when I talked. So I stopped talking. Then my therapist took me to the hospital and lied and told them I was suicidal, so I was admitted. Which was funny, because I actually wasn’t suicidal. It’s funny how they take you to the hospital when you don’t need to, and they don’t take you when you do.
More to come...
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