Colored this picture of B. while in the psych ward.
(By Eve Hinson. Originally written as a series of emails to a friend on 10.5.12)
Strange to think the stereotype of the mentally ill in the day room, all coloring and the small tv on the wall playing some really outdated TV show, but damn if it isn’t true. Thinking of B. was comforting.
Wanted to let you know where I’ve been and that I’m home now. Fragile but hopeful. It’s a start. . . . I’ll see you on the other side.
I hit a wall. Became suicidal.
Was on the 15-minute check ward. Group therapy 3 times a day, psychiatrist meeting, case manager meeting, two nurse meetings a day all about how you feel and what’s your goal today.
Another world but it helped. Lots of therapy in my future, but they have me off Xanax now and one a shitload of other ones but these seem to be helping. I’m eating again even.
Didn’t help my primary put me on one drug and told me to stop taking Xanax and I went through withdrawals.
Been on the edge before that but that was the trigger.
Last night I had a blackout seizure fit and hit the ground in front of everyone in the ward. Got me into bed and the pain is like electricity zapping through your body. I forgot how bad it hurt it’s been so long.
The nurse asked me if I wanted Tylenol, and I scrunched up on my hands and knees pushing my head into the pillows and screamed, “Marijuana. Marijuana.”
She ran out and came back, ‘“We don’t have that here.”
“Then Marinol. Marinol.”
“How do you spell that?
“Man …” fish flop seizures.
It took another four hours of that kind of pain before it went away.
My seizure triggered another guy’s seizure, and he spent the night in the same pain. Good kid, great soul -. Schizophrenic and multi-personalities.
Hanging in there. Every day is a little bit better. A bit muted prob due to the drugs, but it’s not bad. It’s steady.
Right now I follow my daily goals, journal and draw (art therapy my psych calls it). I found this drawing book called Zenspirations. It’s drawing with patterns. Something else called Zentangle. It’s no Larry Hill, but it’s calming and thinking without words.
It’s human to think different.
Eve Hinson | July 2017
Evolution of Eve | Rediscovering life then and exploring the now
Memory loss, scattered focus, inability to track time, and an ill-known stigmatized neurological disorder, plus PTSD symptoms, have erased or complicated recall of Eve’s first 37 years of life.
Now in her mid-40s, Eve is Autistic AF (born that way) and left with a brain that doesn’t include filters (she says fuck. a lot), likes to glitch and, after the memory wipe, created a new personhood. Eve is different to those who’ve known her from childhood. She is unknown even to herself and seeking to learn about her life from back then, and embracing life now.
This series focuses on self-discovery after the onset of severe mental illness, memory loss and permanent disability. It’s a different life and a worthy life.
Contact Eve | firstname.lastname@example.org