A Change In Scope (Temporarily I Hope)

After writing about the (mostly) good / fun memories of me "Forrest Gump-ing" my way through a large portion of my life, and not finding any success recently to come up with another story idea, I have decided that (at least for right now) I am going to turn this into a kind of journal of what is going on now.

Much like the post about my history with Bipolar Disorder, I am not going to promote these - they aren't a lot of fun, and I might sound at times as if I am feeling sorry for myself (sometimes I am). These are like the more fun posts in one regard - they are just things that I wanted to get out of my head and into some forum that is a little more permanent (although not by much).

Now that I got that out of the way, I can get started in earnest.

Here are some uncomfortable facts:

• After I lost my last job, and knowing that it was the end of my marriage too, I started Bipolar cycling rapidly (for years)

• During those 3+ years, I spent all of it in my car and in a series of cheap motels

• I never resolved the dissolution of my marriage with my (now ex) wife... I couldn't concentrate long enough to do so (and I didn't reach out for help either)

• I attempted suicide four times during the 3+ years

Now that I have all of that out of the way, I can start with some of the more current stuff.

After my last unsuccessful suicide attempt, I somehow found enough clarity to reach out for help. I called 2-1-1 San Diego, and started asking for assistance.

As it turned out, there was a mental health center less than a block away from the motel I was staying in. After some arguing with myself over whether or not I wanted to visit the center for help, or try to commit suicide again, I found the resolve to walk over to the mental health center.

Once there, I filled out a mountain of paperwork (this will be a recurring theme in this, and future, posts), and got evaluated. An appointment was made for a further evaluation (which I didn't know whether or not I was going to come back for).

The last of my monies purchased a few more nights in an even cheaper motel miles away from the mental health center. Since I can't drive anymore (I may write about that at a later date), and couldn't afford a Lyft, I walked those several miles from the motel to the mental health center when it was time for my appointment.

The evaluation ended with me receiving some medication for my Bipolar Disorder, and two more appointments. Again, I wasn't 100% sure at the time that I was going to go to those appointments.

More calls to 2-1-1 San Diego followed, as well as a few chat sessions with the suicide prevention hotline - both to get more information prior to going on my next "adventure" - how and where to access help once you become truly homeless.

I think that I am going to wrap up this post (but I will spoil that I did make those other appointments)... There are more stories to tell, but I haven't yet organized them into a coherent order yet.