I’m finally feeling more together and coherent. I had moved to the health center because my trauma had been triggered, and I had pretty completely fallen apart. The notebook about that is still in my apartment, so I don’t have it and I’m not even sure what date I moved. My best guess for why I fell apart is that I was alone too much. Here I leave my door open and can hear people talking and walking back and forth. I eat all my meals at a table with other people.
This was written on November 9:
I want to write about what a hard time I’m having, but it’s difficult to find the words. Maybe that’s part of the problem, that for some reason I’m forgetting a lot of words. I feel like my brain/mind is only functioning at 50% capacity. Practical things that I have to do, like get things I need from my old apartment, make decisions about what to hold on to and what to let go of, and then make decisions about what to do with things I let go of. I feel overwhelmed and scared. How can I possibly do it all? I’ve tried to find books to read, but they have been disappointing so I go back to old favorites like Pilgrim’s Inn, a book by Elizabeth Goudge, that I’ve read many times.
I’ve stopped typing my journal, and I’m writing only short notes that might be important like what meds I’ve taken, and whether or not I have shit. The issue of shitting is a big one and has been going on for a long time. I don’t shit every day, and I haven’t shit any large amounts in a long time. So is it all piling up in my intestines??? The medical people haven’t been helpful at all.