Senate Mental Health Support Thread

Not sure if this is precisely the thread for this but since the incident has resulted in what I suppose approximates PTSD and because I am interested to hear if any people more streetwise than me have more insight into the situation, I'm going to post it.

Roughly a week ago, my wife and I found ourselves in need of a very short term residence, so I booked us in a stay in a nearby "Extended Stay" branded property of a well-known motel chain. The online reviews indicated that the property was far from immaculately maintained and full of "sketchy" residents, but my general philosophy regarding thugs and lowlifes has always been that if you simply don't give them any reason to trouble you, then they won't. As such, throughout the duration of my wife and I's first days at the property, I did my best to simply ignore those "sketchy" dudes that always seemed to be perched in the stairwells as I went about my business.

On our third night at the property, at about 2AM, there was a light knock on the door. Though I was a bit freaked out, I regarded the most likely explanation for the knock being a case of a mistaken room or, perhaps, at worst a gentle admonition to perhaps keep it down a little bit -- my wife and I had been having a bit of fun. If the former, there was no reason to open the door at all, and if the latter, opening the door would surely just lead to a tedious verbal pissing contest. I decided the best approach would be to just ignore the knock.

As soon as I woke up in the morning, my wife having already left for work, I went to the office to request that we be moved to a different room so that potential drama with neighbors wouldn't be hanging over the rest of our stay. As I walked to the office, one of the resident "sketchy" guys on the property crossed my path and mumbled "Yuintgonteltuhpleez" or something otherwise incoherent under his breath. Adhering to my philosophy for staying out of trouble, I simply ignored him and continued to the office, where I was pleased to discover that the only room available to be moved into was in a different building entirely from the one in which we were presently staying (the property comprised three buildings in total). I gathered all of our things, moved into the new room, and figured all of the trouble was over.

My wife was greatly relieved when she returned from work to find that I had switched our room, for as soon as she had stepped through the door in the morning, she said, the man in the adjacent room had stepped out through his door and smirked at her. I told her that he was probably a pervert who wanted to get an eyeful of the girl he had surely been straining through the walls to hear moaning last night, and now that we were clear on the other side of the property, we wouldn't be bothered again.

Slam slam slam.

5AM.

You know how you usually gradually "come to your senses" when you wake up in the morning? Well, that sure as hell didn't happen here. I was instantly completely awake and instantly knew that we were in very big trouble. Whereas the previous night before I couldn't imagine any plausible "story" behind the knocking that involved violence, now that our room was apparently being specifically targeted, I couldn't imagine any plausible "story" behind the knocking that didn't involve violence. And when they started wolf whistling, the R word was suddenly very much in play.

Utterly terrified, I walked to the peephole and saw three men. I could see absolutely nothing about them other than that they were wearing jackets and beanies, but their voices were crystal clear.

"Maybe this isn't the room."

Yes, this isn't the room. Please let this not be the room. Please go away.

"No, it's 357, dude. 357."

Oh. My. God.

Slam. Slam. Slam.

In that moment, looking through the peephole in nothing but my underwear, wondering desperately whether I was about to be made to watch my wife be raped and/or killed, I knew that that sliver of uncertainty whether my wife and I were actually in there was our only chance. Silence could be my only weapon.

My wife retreated into the bathroom to call 911 while I continued staring out the peephole, and, apparently convinced that there had been some confusion about which room I was in, two of them left to go confirm the room number while one stayed behind as a kind of sentry, but he, too, shortly thereafter left, and just minutes later, the police arrived.

My wife and I packed our **** and burned rubber to a nice hotel 30 miles away, and in one of those epiphanies where all of the sensory information you have suddenly reassembles itself into a new narrative, I realized that from the very beginning I had been trespassing on gang turf. Almost all of the rooms at this establishment were being used for drug dealing. That guy who mumbled ""Yuintgonteltuhpleez" to me? What he had said was, "You ain't gonna tell the police." Now that I was thinking about it, in fact, sentries had been coming out of the rooms and watching me and my wife almost from the very moment we pulled up. I hadn't realized it because my imagination literally had not even encompassed the possibility.

I know that this has a "cool story, bro" feel in print, but it was without question the most utterly terrifying moment of my life, and I suspect that what I am experiencing in its wake approximates a mild form of PTSD. I find myself stopped in in my tracks as I go about my day as my brain compulsively relives the entire incident. The guilt of having put my wife in this position has also been overwhelming.

Finally, though I don't want to be one of those moral busybodies, the idea in particular that a tired family with children might inadvertently settle in for the night at a cozy little gang warzone appalls and horrifies me. Which municipal institution would have purview over this kind of thing?
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I'm so sorry you were in that terrifying situation. But very glad your family got out of it ok.

 

@JediVision I am glad you got out. Have you thought about seeing someone IRL about it? Sorry I can’t be more helpful. I am glad you got out safe

 

This could honestly go under first world problems, but it's actually triggering for me. We changed over our cat from kitten food to adult cat food and she's not having it. We mixed in the new stuff over a week or so and she did fine when it was just the adult food, but then we gave her some spare wet kitten food and she's hardly touched the big kid food since. I want her to be happy and well-fed but we're apparently in a battle of wills and I'm losing. My anxiety is through the roof thinking that there's something wrong. And her litter box smells awful, so I'm worried the new stuff isn't digestible.

On the other hand, she's been extra cuddly and less mischievous which is usually a good thing but my brain can only attribute it to lack of energy from undernourishment. Also, she's a cat so who even knows why she does anything that she does. This is why I will never have kids. I can't even handle my cat's drama.

 

Caring about your pets, who are family members, is not a stupid thing to be anxious about. I was super anxious when I first got my dog as a puppy and she got a UTI. She was 4.5 lbs and throwing up everything. So I feel you.

 

How old is the cat? There's an article on the Iams website that says they should be a year old before you make the change. Article also has information on how to do it. (Ignore the advertising).

 

Wow.

I feel at 100%. Feels great.

However...

Not sure if I should post this here, but I've been having trouble concentrating all the same.

I keep pacing and doing... nothing last few days.

Maybe it's how I'm structuring my day? I literally gave myself a check-list of things to do but I realize that they're repetitive and I sometimes stick to them inflexibly which makes me want to not stick to my schedule at all. Hence the endless pacing. Maybe I'm stalling or procrastinating or what have you? Probably.

Not that my life isn't going great right now because it totally is, but I feel that this particular aspect right now is starting to kinda annoy now.

Edit: To be clear, I am doing stuff, just not as much as I had hoped to get done due to being distracted or endless pacing on my part.

 

This is what I'm currently working on in therapy-radìcal acceptance-accepting reality as it is, instead of fighting it. In a nutshell:

Inevitably, we all experience pain in life, whether it be physical or emotional. Pain is a natural occurrence that signals something is wrong. How we choose to deal with pain however, has a significant impact on our overall well-being. Often, people choose to ignore or reject certain kinds of pain or use unhealthy coping habits to minimize the discomfort in the short term. By not accepting reality, pain turns into suffering, which causes ongoing distress. Typically, people respond to pain in four ways.

1. 
   
   
   • Problem Solving – Accept the reality of the situation and do what you are able to change, alleviate, or leave the situation.
   • Changing Feelings – Understanding the issue at hand, observing its meaning, and seeking a positive out of the negative.
   • Acceptance and Turning the Mind – Recognizing reality without approving the experience. Something may be difficult, but that doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it or let it continue.
   • Remaining Miserable – By not accepting reality, individuals choose to suffer, which can exacerbate already difficult and distressful situations.

The only way to end suffering, which occurs as a result of pain and non-acceptance, is to accept reality and face the pain head on. DBT teaches three reality acceptance skills that can help individuals find respite from suffering.

This is working, for me, better than other methods I've tried, in the last ten years.

My psychiatrist inçreased my wellbutrin dose to 450 mg--still taking Viibryd, Abilify, and hydroxizine. My mood has changed a bit. I think with this med change, partnered with radical acceptance, will help me, in the long term. I'm so glad I got to stay with my therapist.

 

Something about the combination of losing power / water for a few days (along with knowledge of the systemic problems that led to it and all the people who are still without water), taking a full load of courses, being in a part time internship where I'm learning that so much of my job is evangelizing the idea that I should actually do my job leading me to not really know how to accurately do my job leading to procrastination, distractions, and staring at screens, getting ready to move, getting into bimonthly three hour phone conversations with my Evangelical apocalyptic sister where I try to dig her out of this black hole she's fallen in only to lose her almost every single time to what is to me really obvious racism and homophobia when she's all that's left of my family support system after my father's death and stepmother abandonment, along with all the other obvious current events, is really starting to break me. My car not starting on Saturday did me in. I drank a full glass of wine in the AM, which was enough to give me a bad hangover in the PM, which I didn't fully recover from until the next day. Someone came out and told me it wasn't the battery on Sunday, but I still have not towed the car because I can't face the bill. Though I already go to weekly talk therapy, my partner convinced me to look into psychiatric options through Talkspace, so we'll see where that goes. I feel like I'm good at managing myself in emergencies, but not with a full load of stressors that don't seem to go away. Not sure where we'll go from here.

 

What kind of car and how is it not starting? Does it sound like fuel is getting to the engine or not? Last few times my VW Golf did this and it wasn't the battery it turned out to be the fuel pump relay switch. If there is gas leaking from near the gas tank it might be the pump itself.

 

It's a Chevy Impala 2014. I don't really have the vocabulary or knowledge of what's going on under the hood to articulate anything beyond "it's clicking when I turn the keys." And that the assistance people said it wasn't the battery.

It's also stuck in a claustrophobic single-car garage filled with junk, which makes it difficult to survey what's going on.

 

I know that kind of garage - I have one.
Yours could be anything from a loose/corroded battery connection to a starter motor. When my Golf had the relay problem the engine would sound like it wanted to start but giving it the gas pedal didn't change things.
Do you have AAA or a similar car club membership? I have AA here and the repair guy was able to fit a generic fuel pump relay switch to get me going - no towing needed.

 

Do you go to a mental health center? If so, they likely have case managers to help with these things. In the past, things like tires and my internet bill have been covered with help from a case mgr and nonprofits. One of the grants I received for my current apartment came through my case mgr at the mental health center. It's worth looking into. Ask your therapist.

 

No club memberships or case managers– but these are both definitely great options to look into.

 

Seriously, ask your therapist. There's a chance they know of some sort of assistance available.

 

I’m no car mechanic, but that sounds like the starter

 

@Bacon164 , do you have any motorhead friends? My starter went out a couple of months ago. My neckbeard friend fixed it-I just had to buy the actual starter, which was a hell of a lot cheaper than taking it to a shop.

 

I think you guys are right in that it's likely the starter. We're in the middle of moving right now anyway, so I think we're just going to clear out the garage (it's not that much stuff), and then take a look at the starter. @harpua Not... really. I have a friend who at least has the mindset, but probably not the skillset. I need more gearhead friends. If it really is as simple as the starter, that takes a lot of my anxiety out of the picture, as I can't imagine a multi-thousand dollar bill coming out of that.

 

Everybody should have a neckbearded motorhead friend.

 

I technically have a beard, but I’m no motorhead

hope it’s as simple as the starter Bacon, since that shouldn’t be to expensive

 

while I was bitching about everything on here, my partner went and took a look and jumped it, and it worked, and it also started again. Gonna check it out again this afternoon and see how it's doing. I guess the guy who came out to jump it and couldn't was mistaken. Still confused about the clicking the other day. The car could probably do with a general tune up. Still meeting with a psych on Saturday, but my partner taking that on helped a lot. I could probably stand a lot about learning about what's going on under the hood of a car, but I am useless as it stands.

 

I am useless at that stuff too. Glad your partner was able to do it and hopefully relieve some stress!

 

@DarthTunick is my internet neckbeard friend. I don't think he could take on a flat tire, though, let alone a piece of car, lol.

 

Man this is the 3rd time I have heard of car trouble on the board in like a week