Well it’s going on the third day, and I have not quite adjusted to the freedom I have.
I am literally a nervous wreck at the current time and I don’t know why.
I come into the building and I almost think that I have to be searched for contriband, then I realize I am no longer in the system.
It has been a tramatic experience, regardless if it wasn’t that unpleasant. To be searched and wanded every single time you enter the building, and living with security pacing the halls, and in any given time your personal belongings inspected, really takes away from the sense of freedom.
Now that I have regained my freedom back, I don’t know how to feel. It’s been two years and I still wake up thinking that I have to get my daughter up and ready for school. Although at the shelter I refused to get up before 7:30am. I woke up feeling displaced.
The transition from the shelter to the hotel wasn’t really the same feeling for me, because I was first at the Ramada inn then transferred to central park West hotel.
At the Ramada inn I was doubled up with someone who was very annoying. While we slept she would play a channel on YouTube all night. She must have been religious and was playing and watching a pastor. I didn’t even bother to ask her to use her head phones because I didn’t want any problems.
But at the Ramada, the security came around every half hour, it was an unsettling feeling.
At least at central park west it was every hour and half to two hours.
I almost feel that a fight will break out at any given moment, or EMS will be parked out front the building because someone had a psychotic moment.
There is no more 6:30 banter, or music blaring as the lights come on for the day.
Even at the hotel there was commotion in the hallway by 6:30am. You just couldn’t find quiet…
So now it’s my third day in my apartment, and I’m feeling restless and insecure a little bit.
It is going to take some time for me to adjust to being alone. The tenants in the building are nice enough. Everyone has a psychiatric disorder, but there is no one thus far that I feel I’m going to be making friends with. Everyone is in their 50’s and older. I’m the baby of the tenants and they look and peer at me because I don’t look like I have a psychiatric disorder.
I refuse to look like I’m dishelved. Even with no place to go, I get myself dressed and try to live my day as normal as possible.
I noticed that people who have a psychiatric disorder sumcome to looking like it, with holes in their clothes and very used shoes. Although they may be clean, and they don’t do their hair.
I refuse to look the part of a schitoeffective individual, although I have my moments where I want to were the same thing over and over because I got comfortable in my outfit.
I find it within myself to wash up at night and put on my sweat pants and t shirt to go to bed.
I just refuse to look the part. I am already fucked up and I have to live with it.