I totally planned on writing something about how great my week has been going. Mostly to show that it doesn’t suck ALL of the time. It really doesn’t. But. I can’t. I want to. My week has been really awesome. I went to the shore, I walked along the beach. I faced one of my uber-fears, and even walked barefoot IN the water (okay, seriously, 3 inches deep, but still… It’s a start.), and didn’t freak out when I found out I lost my house key somewhere in the sand.
That said. One of our inmates checked herself in today. Or at least went in for eval, and I haven’t heard from her since. This bugs me. Well, this is good news, because she’s had it rough lately, and that means she’s taking the steps she needs. But it bugs me because I can’t be there. And it bugs me because Right Now, she’s disappeared and I’m not 100% sure what’s going on. So, hopefully, we’ll figure it out in a few days.
Everyone has different levels of help that they’ll accept, give, take, donate, walk away from, run to, etc. Some, will voluntarily go to the psychiatric hospital when they’re feeling hopeless. Some won’t. Some will simply go to the Emergency Department. Some won’t. Some will make an appointment with their therapist, or the after hours therapist. Some won’t. Some call hotlines, or go to AA/NA/etcA meetings. Me? Not so much. I’ll crash and burn but I won’t ask for help. Pride? Stubbornness? Sure. Probably. I can probably come up with a few other choice reasons. Point is, everyone handles life differently, and I’m damn glad I know people who look out for themselves.