Drat

D’s been locked up again, for 72 hours, in SF General’s Ward 7B. I started pushing him last week, to get back online, to join his professional association, etc.., trying to get him engaged with a community other than the patient community. He said he wasn’t ready, but promised to talk about it later. Then yesterday he decided to jump off the Golden Gate Bridge, told his caseworker, and now he’s back in the hospital. I seem to be his only source of engagement with life outside of his recovery. He’s like a Coco zombie, no interest in anything or anyone other than me. I am just not that interesting, honey. I’ve gone along patiently, seeing movies and shows with him, taking him out to lunch several times a week, introducing him to people… I asked him how he felt a few days ago, and he responded that he didn’t know. He really didn’t know what he was feeling, just bland and lifeless. I can’t just be supportive, I feel like I need to be more assertive about making some movement forward, but I’m up against chemistry, a really screwed up chemistry that doesn’t seem to be responding to therapy, drugs, or electro-convulsive treatments.