SMI? Do you know what that stands for?

I am 38, unemployed, homeless, penniless, without family or friends with the exception of my daughter and her father whom without I would not be alive to write this post but long gone maybe years ago. I am in a billion broken pieces and there isn’t any way to fix me. I am not machinery or a kitchen appliance that can be rewired, tweaked, filter change or any such thing. I can only keep my sever mental illness at bay with a combination of nearly impossible regiment of medication, therapy and prayer. There is very little else I can do. I have been in and out of hospitals my whole adult life, pretty much written off by my family once to 10 times a month.

My mom tries but she can’t stand me and it is hard to know you are a that child that not even a mother can truly love. I added prayer not because I am religious so much as I have faith there is a purpose for me and she is 5 years old and has kept me with laughter in my life and I owe her everything I am (which isn’t much but a dedicated mother when I am able to be or allowed to be).

Mental illness is scary because it is in the mind where all things originate so reality becomes subjective to people like me. I do reality checks but it isn’t always enough and I become someone I don’t know or recognize and do things I would never do other wise.

I have had a successful if not a short career that was actually going somewhere until, well until I became unable to function, paralyzed with fear and paranoia I spent most of my time trying to get some relief or keep myself safe.
Family members hired a security team for me based on their opinion about my wellbeing and got the idea from my psychiatrist who met with them prior to telling me. He broke Privedge as all my social workers and healthcare workers have.

I have been exploited by those who are posing as those that are there to help. Their help consisted of collecting $800 in rent for me to clean, cook, volunteer, meet with a guy about hopefully becoming employed but it takes months. Meanwhile I am just being diagnosed, have absolutely no way to support myself outside of having shelter and 1 maybe 2 meals a day and 1 hour of group therapy four times a week.

When I joined the program I was told it was a dual diagnosis transitional house to help people like me get on my feet. Instead they spent a lot of time creating difficulties for me, provoking me and threatening to exit me if I didn’t do this or that. That would have been fine if it were true for the rest of the residence who were not held to any standard, made to do a thing and broke rules that were grounds for dismissal daily, weekly or periodicially and they never faced even the smallest consequences. I was pulled into the office for leaving
A soda can on my room mates dresser! I was told by other residence my paranoia was not in vain that what I thought was going on actually was.

I trust my doctor who has been there for me for nearly three years and they kicked me out on the 22nd of December as I am about to leave to spend the holidays with my family and were cruel and rude about it to boot.

All my belongings are still in my room with all my expensive art supplies, clothes, shampoo you name it. They want me to join an intensive outpatient treatment in addition to finding a job, attending their groups and keeping up with the 4 chores they have me doing since the other residence are too lazy to even wash their own bodies or clothes.

Do I keep advocating for myself. When do I give up on situation that aren’t good healthy or remotely therapeutic. Yes I have a roof over my head but now I will never know when or if I will be tossed out again for becoming symptomatic of my mental illness. If I could live on my own right now and keep my schedule with a special needs child , job hunting navigating the healthcare system with insurance and all with 3 mental health issues I would do it

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