I’m in the new ward and I can’t believe how fucking amazing these people are to me.
(Originally an email written by Eve Hinson on 9.20.13 from the community computer in the psych ward at Stanford.)
This place is gorgeous and comfortable. I’m able to walk around freely and be in the common room. After 24 hours I can even walk about outside of this unit too. They don’t lock the doors. They have a balcony overlooking the grounds (gorgeous) which I can sit on tomorrow if I want.
The doctors assure me I can be helped and I can get better. One lady has been trying to get in here for years and no availability. This is my gift from the Universe.
My roomie is an adorable elderly lady with soft short curls and her name is Toni.
I start cognitive behavior therapy, some other therapy and hypnotherapy on Monday. It’s a really intensive thing I’m told. Hypnotherapy they’re going to put me into the seizures and talk me out — more complicated than that but easy as I can understand it at the moment.
I’m also going to get physical therapy and speech therapy to teach me how to work my body through this when it happens too. After this I’ll have an outpatient doctor here who actually treats conversion disorder and specifically PNES (Psychogenic Non-Epileptic Seizures*).
This is going to be difficult, but I’m worth the fight. Hell, these days I wake up swinging. To be brief, I know now I was sexually harmed by six people. Raped by my first boyfriend four times.
Tiny lights of hope flutter, with busy wings in the nightroom, spark a yearn to flourish in the palm of my hand.
Actually that last line I wrote wrong lol, it was palm of my soul.
I’m going to write all these flashes. Today is amazing. I took my personal power back.
Nurse Rachet showed up in the form a secretary and believe me I called that shit out.
Fuck that, I can talk now. Everyone here has been damn amazing but that one lady. Will share the story with you later.
I’m in the best hospital in the world for this, you better fucking working for me and be respectful about it. I call it my moment 🙂 Bitches get told. Peace out.
❤ ❤ ❤
The hard work starts on Monday 🙂
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