“So tell me what’s going on.”
My therapist pulled up a chair and turned his attention toward me.
My words, as if shot out of a cannon, attempted to keep up with my stream of thoughts. I spoke of my blog stories, many in passionate detail. I also spoke of local environmental causes that I had launched, and the actions I had taken thus far.
My therapist had a look of deep concern.
“Are you taking your medication?”
I knew where he was going. It was so obvious. Was I having a ‘manic episode’?
Was my passionate flurry of activity an indicator that a deeply troubling mental health issue was, once again, a part of my life?
My therapist’s concern triggered my fear. Would my mental health team send me back to a mental hospital?
I had spent three years of my life in a long term lockup, living in intimate contact with extremely mentally ill people. It was a 24/7 existence of incredible horror.
I desperately did not want to go back to this terrible place.
My therapist assured me that this would not happen.
So back to my prolific writing on this blog. Is it a result of a manic eruption? Not sure. One thing I know is that I enjoy it immensely.
So I’ll keep on writing.