So now I know what it is like to spend time in a mental health facility. Now I know what it was like for me, and I could see how it was different for others. Others who had different problems than I. Some chose to work actively towards their own release, while others seemed to be trying to stay.

According to my doctor, I could have been released days before I actually got released. Thank you, bureaucratic red tape. Not!

I mean, I did get some things out of staying. Interacting with others who were there was good for me, for the most part. One dude that I decided to share contact information with went all creepy with it so I had to block him, but I’ve had good contacts with a couple of the women that I shared info with. I mean, I understand that he maybe had a crush on me, but to ask if I’m single when he knew that I was only in the facility because of the recent death of my husband? That’s taking things too far, no thank you, don’t need that energy in my life right now.

I’m in Chicago now, and already feeling homesick for my mountains. Plus I’m feeling very bloated and not at all hungry, which may be a side effect of one of several medications that I’m on now thanks for that experience. I started tapering off of those meds without the advice of a doctor because my body was feeling so bad with all of those unneeded chemicals coursing through it.

Based on how good I feel taking less of it, I’m confident that I’ll be able to come off smoothly. I was on the meds for less than 3 weeks. That’s not going to take a long taper. And, for the most part, when I looked up how to taper off of this, the results were about tapering off folks who had been on it for literal decades. That’s not me.

And now I’m in the midst of another new experience, that of living in Chicago for the first time since I was a baby. I don’t remember living in Chicago at all, but even if I did, the city has grown and changed since the last time I lived anywhere near here. I mean, I did go to high school in the city, but, as I was told ad nauseum by folks who did really live in the city, that didn’t “count” for anything anyway because I lived in the suburbs.

Man, kids can be silly about status and hierarchy. I blame the school system.

Anywho, I’m now living in the basement of my brother’s new home. I didn’t expect the basement to be so warm and cozy, but it really is. I’ve been sleeping well (three nights in now), and it’s been nice not living alone. Don’t get me wrong, I still miss my mountain home, but I’m feeling better about staying here for several weeks, and even working from here.

Of course, in order to work I’m going to need to figure out my password drama. See, my annual password change was due in late July, and I didn’t use it enough to get it into my fingers before Ambrose died. I had to change it again once already, but I also forgot what I changed it to. I don’t know how, but I’m going to need help from the Help Desk to get into my PC, because it still wants the old (new) password.

But that’s a Thursday problem. Today, I get a haircut and learn how to use Uber. Not in that order, I hope.

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