CGN83
Member
- Jan 1, 2026
- 37
Do you believe things happen for a reason?
The delivery of SN I was waiting on was delayed by 24 hours, and it completely threw my plans.
That delay gave me space I didn't expect. Space to look at whether there might be another way forward after 14 years of mental health hell.
General psych ward admissions have failed, talking therapies have been unmanageable because I go into meltdown during these sessions and meds have not made any significant difference.
I've started looking into psychiatric rehabilitation. I don't know if I'll be accepted. I don't know how it will turn out.
But for the first time in a long time, I'm at least asking the question: what if this isn't the end yet?
Maybe the delay wasn't random. Maybe it was the world saying, "Not yet."
I don't have answers. Just a little space, and a tiny bit of hope. And for now, that's more than I've had for a long time, for now that's enough.
I'm lying in bed wide awake at 5:10am writing this, knowing I'm going to call my doctor at 8am for an appointment and tell them everything.
My only fear about telling my doctor is that's I might not get taken seriously about wanting to get through this and if that happens, I know the SN is waiting for me at the post office a quarter mile away.
That's how fragile the line between life and death is for me right now.
The delivery of SN I was waiting on was delayed by 24 hours, and it completely threw my plans.
That delay gave me space I didn't expect. Space to look at whether there might be another way forward after 14 years of mental health hell.
General psych ward admissions have failed, talking therapies have been unmanageable because I go into meltdown during these sessions and meds have not made any significant difference.
I've started looking into psychiatric rehabilitation. I don't know if I'll be accepted. I don't know how it will turn out.
But for the first time in a long time, I'm at least asking the question: what if this isn't the end yet?
Maybe the delay wasn't random. Maybe it was the world saying, "Not yet."
I don't have answers. Just a little space, and a tiny bit of hope. And for now, that's more than I've had for a long time, for now that's enough.
I'm lying in bed wide awake at 5:10am writing this, knowing I'm going to call my doctor at 8am for an appointment and tell them everything.
My only fear about telling my doctor is that's I might not get taken seriously about wanting to get through this and if that happens, I know the SN is waiting for me at the post office a quarter mile away.
That's how fragile the line between life and death is for me right now.
