There’s nothing like being brainsick over a holiday weekend to remind me of my demographic status. I’ve struggled for several days with vicious, distorted thoughts, but holidays add more stress with regular support services closed, carefully constructed routines disrupted, and human support unavailable as they enjoy time with family and friends. Long weekends are difficult, and I’m not the only one who feels it.
So far this weekend, emergency vehicles have visited my ten-unit complex five times. That means half of the residents have been in such a state of crisis that their only option seemed to be 911. And the day’s only half over.
To try to calm my own agitation, I went to our common room this morning to do laundry, sit in the quiet, and maybe journal. I found one of the window latches broken. In the bathroom, the toilet seat was broken in half with feces on the floor. I cleaned…
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