PHP is like day camp for bipolar adults. as such, activities take place throughout the day. no, we don’t make lanyards, but sometimes we make collages or draw as part of art therapy. personally, i like making collages because i can’t draw.
the problem with these projects is that bipolars can be competitive, especially when manicky. you have to have the best collage out of everybody in the room. nothing less will do. so you end up hogging all the magazines to get the best pictures first, and everyone else ends up hating you.
speaking of competitive, my favorite was recreational therapy. in the program i went to, the Rec Therapy Therapist was totally cool. her version of rec therapy consists of board games in which patients work as teams. these weren’t therapy type games, either. they were real games like Cranium, Outburst, Scattergories, stuff like that. luckily, i was usually able to talk Rec Therapy Therapist out of having us play Pictionary. timed drawing games like that can induce an anxiety attack if my current anxiety level is high. i’m not sure what the point of rec therapy is, but it was fun. who wouldn’t want to play $200-300/day to play board games?
mornings usually begin with a check-in period. each patient gives a brief update on their current mood, to which they can assign a number between 1-10. it isn’t sufficient to just say you’re “fine” or “OK.” the therapists and other patients ask you what’s currently going on in your life to help you get to the root of what it means to be “fine.” in other words, to be able to attach an emotion, like anger, sadness, or whatever.
this has never been easy for me because i tend to parse these words. like, do emotions have to be adjectives? for example, which is an emotion: “frustrated” or “frustration”? does it matter? for that matter, is either one a mood? are emotions and moods synonyms? or is there just the slightest bit of difference so that one includes/excludes nuances of the other? maybe this isn’t so much bipolar thinking as it is obsessive thinking, but it’s what goes through my mind. as a result, i have trouble naming my emotions, so the check-in period was helpful.
for 15 minutes 2 or 3 times a week, the psychiatrist assigned to you would pull you out of session to discuss your meds. my doctor’s first name means pubic hair in Tagalog. so every time this poor doctor stuck her head in the doorway to summon a patient, i and the patients i had befriend would start laughing. it was hard for me to take her seriously.
there’s an educational portion, which consists of videos about bipolar disorder or depression. for newly diagnosed people, this is extremely helpful. it’s a good idea to know exactly what you’re dealing with, right? also, when you see how people behave during episodes, you’ll realize that the same actions you may have taken in the past weren’t results of a character flaw. but i’d been dealing with this for 10 years, so i found this part borrrrrinnngggg.
the day wraps up with a goal session. we go around the room and everyone states a goal they want to accomplish tonight–they don’t have to be anything major. it could be something as simple as taking out the trash (which honestly, if you’re really depressed, it isn’t that simple). everyone writes their goal on a dry erase board and off you go.
tomorrow: PHP and Me, Part 3
this tip is related to Chicago Living Tip #20. as i mentioned, winter weather and radiator heat can cause more flakes than a snowstorm and stinging cracks to develop on your skin. even worse, it can dry your lips to the point where you might feel self-conscious about making out with that new hook-up. if you’re married, like me, it doesn’t matter, but what attached person doesn’t like to think they can still attract a new hook-up?
after years of searching, i have finally found the bomb of all lip balms. it’s the first time in my entire life that i actually used it all up. it is…Satin Lips? Lip Balm by MaryKay. go ahead and laugh, but let me tell you, the MaryKay of the 21st century is not your mother’s MaryKay.
guys, i guess you’d have to be pretty secure with your manhood to use this stuff. i mean, it comes in pink packaging after all. it’s worth it, though, and women will find it endearing.
now for the shameless plug. order a tube from my sister Lesley’s MaryKay site. mention the bloggo and get 10% off. order online–easier for the out-of-state folks, or call by phone. you won’t regret it. this stuff works.
PHP is the acronym for partial hospitalization program, also called a day program. it’s for bipolars who aren’t depressed/manic enough to be in the hospital, but aren’t well enough to function in the “real world.” basically, it’s day camp for bipolars. you go anywhere from 2-5 days out of the work week from either 9am-noon or 9am-2pm. it depends on how stable you are at the time. oh, and how long a stay your insurance will cover.
my first (and only) experience with PHP took place last February at “Anonymous North Shore Hospital” in the northern suburbs. i was there for maybe 3 or 4 weeks and went Monday through Friday from 9am-2pm.
i’m a chronic late person except when i have a class to teach. this is attributable to a number of things: culture (Filipino time ;)), procrastination, apathy, and/or i don’t want to go there to begin with. maybe 2 or 3 days a week i’d show up about 15 minutes late. it wasn’t because i didn’t get up in time; i just have this tendency to lollygag and find all sorts of things i can accomplish around the apartment before i leave. i’m not proud of this, and it’s something i’m trying to change. teaching definitely helped.
anyway, near the end of my stay, the weather began to warm up. goodbye, gray skies and black slush! every spring quarter in college i’d end up dropping a course without fail. for me, spring = hypomania = lack of concentration + irresponsibility + who gives a shit, anyway, not me! w00t!
i couldn’t drop out of PHP, so there were a couple of times when, on my way to Anonymous North Shore Hospital, i’d end up taking the exit for the outdoor mall i passed on the way to shop and enjoy the weather. i felt good. it was beautiful out. who wanted to sit inside a hospital all day? not me!
i know i was supposed to be there longer than 3 or 4 weeks because i was clearly unstable. on the days i ran late, for example, i succumbed to minor road rage projected at the suburban moms in mini-vans (no offense) talking on their cells while driving under the speed limit in the left lane. move over! move OVER! *HONK, gives finger while passing* the therapists knew about this. i readily admitted it. what good is therapy if you lie to others and yourself? why bother?
imagine my surprise when the Head Therapist calls to tell me i’ve been kicked out–i mean, discharged–because of attendance and tardiness issues. um, hello? when i started PHP i said that those were some of the issues i wanted to improve. so i get kicked out for some of the very reasons i’m there to begin with? what the fuck?
and i was like, “so if i show up next week no your intake day, you’re going to decide that i’m too unstable to function in the ‘real world,’ and recommend that i undergo PHP.” he said i was welcome to go through another intake interview.
am i deluded here, in thinking there was something very wrong with that scenario? i mean, being bipolar and aware of it, i often end up second-guessing myself because i’m not always sure if i can trust my judgment.
fortunately, my therapist validated my gut feeling and said that Head Therapist never returned her calls, which she found strang. she said i shouldn’t be depressed about the situation, and if anything, i should be a little angry. actually, i was dumbfounded. and i can’t remember if i started laughing while i was still on the phone or after i hung up while talking to Head Therapist.
tomorrow: PHP and Me, Part 2
John Coltrane’s Giant Steps was just part of a number of presents that Brian gave me on our first Valentine’s Day, 2000. isn’t that so sweet that your teeth are about to fall out?
perfect for a Sunday afternoon–for all the lazy guys in my life.
on the news last night, Brian and i heard about CTA’s expansion project for the Brown Line. they want the stations to be able to accommodate more cars per train, among other things, which i understand. however, the way they plan to go about this is utterly ridiculous. click the link above to learn what they’ll be doing to your nearest Brown Line platform.
what they don’t tell you on the site, is how long the stations will be shut down. get this–Kimball, Kedzie, Francisco, and Rockwell (2 of which we live equidistant from) are going to be shut down for 8 months to a year. i shit you not–one year. and this isn’t just in the middle of the night or on just the weekends, either. click Some CTA Brown Line Stations Set To Close to watch channel 2’s video, though it was only last night that they said which stations will close, seemingly, forever. this is some kind of bullshit, let me tell you.
remember the good ole days when the lines weren’t color coded? i mean, do they think we’re too stupid to figure out that the Ravenswood goes through the Ravenswood area? or that the Englewood-Jackson Park goes to, well, Englewood or Jackson Park? what about the Evanston Express? i’ll give you three guesses to figure out where that line goes.
remember the A and B trains? i miss them, too. and you know, i liked tokens because you didn’t have to worry about them getting creased like fare cards.
why is it that the CTA finds new and improved ways to screw their riders? and why do they treat us like we’re a bunch of idiots? i say, FUCK the CTA. but you know, they’ll always get the last say because we have no choice but to rely on them. now, that’s some bullshit right there.
not much except read a book. Brian was up for about an hour–he got Starbucks and some pastries. he’s been asleep ever since.
we talked about going to a coffee shop later, but i don’t know if that’ll actually happen.
i was going to meet my sister for lunch today (Friday), but she called to tell me that if i could help it, not to go outside because it was really cold. heh. no problem there.
i thought i might go to Starbucks to do some writing because i can just get in the car, and the one near us has parking so i wouldn’t have to walk far. i didn’t go. i’ve been wearing my pajamas all day.
at least i finally called my therapist and made a tentative appointment to see her on Wednesday. i said i’d call her on Monday to confirm whether or not i think i can actually make it. now all i have to do is call and reschedule my appointment with the pdoc before i run out of meds.
The Thursday Bookworm (1/27/05)
"No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting." -Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
There’s no real cohesion to this week’s Worm: just some random questions that popped into my head throughout the week.
1. We’ve all heard the phrase, "Don’t judge a book by its cover." Have you ever picked up a book based solely on the title or the picture on the cover?
haha. totally. a friend and i used this method to buy wine once. i don’t recommend it–either for books or wine.
2. Along the same lines, do you ever look at whichever book someone else is reading in public or whatnot, and based on that make a snap judgment about their character or literary taste? (I realize this might not seem all that clear, so let me give an example- for instance, whenever I see someone reading War and Peace, the first word that pops into my mind is "pretentious." Most of the people I’ve known who carry that book around just do it to get attention and demonstrate how "smart" they are, when they actually never get past page 10).
absolutely. i try not to be judgmental at all, and i’m working really hard to shed my literary snobbery, especially now that all i read these days are Star Wars novels. however, i’m not apt to read mass-market paperbacks, or what i call airplane books.
3. Do you buy books online? If so, where is your favorite place to find them?
not often. i like to get my book immediately. i like to feel the cover and the book’s heft in my hands. so i’m a bibliophile–so what? heehee.
when i do order books online, i order from Amazon.
4. From someone who’s had more than her fair share of library fines… what is the largest late fee you’ve ever incurred at a library for returning a book past the due date? Have you ever borrowed a book from a library and never returned it?
i don’t want to know what my largest fine is, because i believe i’m currently incurring it. last i remember, about 2 months ago it was $13. i’m not even sure if i’ve returned the book. i can’t find it anywhere. on the other hand, i’ve never not returned a book. i’m too paranoid about having to pay an exorbitant price to replace it.
5. What is the first book that you can remember reading by yourself?
it was a book about a gingerbread man being chased by his village or something like that–an old folktale, i think.
NOTE: this entry was originally posted on Xanga, when bipolar bloggo (now part of bloggo chicago) was located there.
here’s what i don’t get: cutters who are proud to be cutters. i was browsing the blogrings here and there are a bunch that extol cutting. what the fuck? people who are actually into cutting do it for attention or to be trendy. i mean, who in their right mind would
want to deal with emotional pain/anxiety by doing this?i can’t remember when the last time i cut was, but it’s probably been at least 3 months. i couldn’t even bring myself to really do it. it felt like i was copping out of dealing with what was bothering me at the time.the scars are horrible and shameful, nothing to show off. in the past i’ve been lucky enough that my scars faded, but now there are some that don’t seem to be going away, and they’re on my forearm, so i can’t exactly hide it from people unless i wear long sleeves. that sucks big time in the summer.
on the days i go to my kali class where you don’t have to wear your gi, i wear a long-sleeved shirt underneath a T-shirt. one of the instructors told me that it isn’t anything to be ashamed of, and if anyone asks about it, i don’t have to answer to them. but still, it’s embarrassing.
once, one of my classmates did see the scars and gave me a quizzical look while smirking at the same time. he knew what they were. i just smiled and shrugged, and he nodded, seeming to understand. it was interesting–the whole exchange was unspoken.
huh. now i feel like going to class, which is an hour-and-a-half. but i insisted that Brian take the car today because he was running late. he said that he really wants me to go to class, but a few hours ago, i didn’t trust myself to go.
i could take the train if i wanted to, but that seems like too much of a hassle. plus it’s freezing out, though i don’t really know that because i haven’t been outside in days.
yeah, i’m really good at talking myself out of doing stuff. sometimes though, i’m able to rally at the last minute, get off my ass, and go do something. it’s like a burst of spontaneity, but the more time i have to think about it, the less likely i’ll do it. like right now.
i never did make it to the doctor’s office yesterday. i couldn’t even get myself to call and cancel, so Brian did it for me.
he also called my therapist, who’s supposed to call me back. i know i need to see her, but i just don’t know if i could keep my appointments. i haven’t seen her in about a month, which is bad, especially because i normally see her twice a week. and to think that the last time i saw her, i was considering cutting down to once a week.
never did make it to the post office, either, to ship my customer’s order. once again, Brian is doing this for me today.
i feel really guilty because he has to carry me on his shoulders for stupid stuff that’s like, no big deal. i mean, how hard is it to pick up the phone and make a damn phone call? it just is, and i hate that.
lately i’ve been wondering if i should be in the hospital, but i don’t feel like hurting myself or anything like that. well, i don’t feel like doing anything, really. anyway, what good would being there do? although it would get me back on track as far as having a structured day. but then, you never know who you’ll be stuck with for a roommate.
last time, my roommate was really cool. ironically, she lived in the same apartment building Lesley and i lived in in ‘97-’98. what a slum. but the girl was really cool.
the roommate 2 stays ago was fine because she didn’t utter a single word and kept to herself. except for once or twice when she wandered over to my side of the room and decided to help herself to something of mine–can’t remember what it was, so obviously it wasn’t a big deal. i just wasn’t expecting it.
i guess i’m doing all right then, as far as hospital stays go. those last couple of times were exactly a year ago and within 2 weeks of each other. how fucked up is that?
oh, and i was almost hospitalized a third time in February because i threw a handout at one of the therapists in the partial hospitalization program i was in at the time. well, he pissed me off. and that whole partial program experience is another story that i’ll write about because it was a complete joke.
anyway, i ended up not being sent to the psych ward because the social worker or whatever determined that i wasn’t a threat to myself, and besides, i’d already used up all my mental health hospital stays for the year. it turned out i was just hungry.
