Boppinwithaborderline

I was high on Xanax walking around the Fort Hood Army base, when my aunt came driving by on her way home from the gym or HEB. I was walking from my aunt’s house towards the exit gate.

She rolls down the window…. “What are you doing? Where are you going?” were probably some of her first questions. 

“I have to get back to her!” I start yelling. 

“How? You live in Dallas! And, no. You guys are broken up!” were probably some of the  logical follow up questions/statements that she directed at the zombie shell of me.

“I will walk to Dallas! I will Uber!” I frantically reply. 

“Get in the car,” she said. 

I got in the car. 

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That night the walls of the rooms around me would turn white and sterile. In a room just a tiny bit bigger than my now walk in closet, I sat and shivered. This room had two chairs bolted to the ground and no other objects. I hear yelling and the sounds of people throwing their bodies and other objects at the walls, outside of my sterile closet. 

You might be wondering how I ended up in a room like this. To be fair, it was 100% voluntary. However, it did not seem voluntary to me. Something inside of me said, “You are not okay. You need to seek professional help that is outside of your loving family.” This landed me at a psych hospital in San Antonio, Texas. 

When I got to the ward, I handed the lady conducting my evaluation my bag and told her I would like to be an inpatient (staying for an extended period of time). She explained that the results of my assessment would determine whether I qualify for inpatient treatment or outpatient treatment. 

After the physical assessment, they put me in a room like I described above. I was told that someone would come by with food and water (that never happened). I waited for hours that seemed like eternity. Until finally, the doctor saw me for about 1 minute. 

“What are you in here for?” she asked. 

I want to answer quickly because at this point, I just want to go home and see my sister and my dog, but I begin to sob. Finally, I caught my breath. 

“My girlfriend and I broke up.” I responded. 

I remember one of the nurses’ responses clear as day, “Awww… HONEY, you JUST have a broken heart.” 

Within a few hours in the middle of the night my loving and kind sister would come and pick me up and take me to stay with her. Before I left the hospital, I signed up for a one week program. This program is like a typical 8 hour school day, but for adults working on themselves and their mental health. 

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Side Note: First day of class. I got my lunch box. My notepad. As Spongebob would say, “I’m ready!” As I walked to the front office, my flip flop got caught in one of the bricks in the sidewalk and I ate it! Blood everywhere! Luckily, I was at a hospital. Everyone that checked on me was super nice, but I was laughing so hard that I probably really did look a little nuts! 

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I would like to say that this was the first time I had signed up for this outpatient program (adult school)…. But no. Almost exactly one year prior, I had gone through another break-up, which led me to find out about this specific hospital. The first experience was a lot more enjoyable, probably due to the fact that I did not have to be locked in a cold ice box for hours the first time. 

The point being, this time I felt like the program was not enough. I still did not feel okay, and I felt like future Morgan was not okay. I don’t know if you have ever watched the show Manifest on Netflix, but I always joke that “it’s all connected”. 

I found a place in Arizona that really excited me. It is a facility that specializes in Borderline Personality Disorder. As soon as I found this place, I got so excited and pumped… until I saw the price tag… and no, my insurance did not cover it 😦 

LUCKILY, I found another facility in Texas that was “doable” for myself and my family. The catch was… I had to go through AA (yup, alcoholic anonymous) 

*Let me be VERY clear. I am not an alcoholic. Alcoholism is a beast of a disease and like any disease it manifests in individuals differently. It is a spectrum, I would argue. If you think you might fall on the spectrum, no judgment at all! I am only here to speak on MY experiences with alcohol* 

I do however have patterns in my life of binge drinking. When I got to the facility, I decided to give the program 110% like my life depended on it (because for me, I felt like it did). Which means, I gave as much as I could to the AA program. 

Although for me the AA program had its limitations in my overall desire to better my mental health, I did discover how much I used substances as a crutch to avoid pain, escape reality and ultimately lose myself. 

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But AA was not what amazed me about the facility I went to. (STOP YA’LL gonna make me cry). It was the AMAZING and BEAUTIFUL WOMEN (and my 1 Star Wars loving male counselor) that I had the absolute pleasure of living with for 1 month of my life that made the HUGE difference in my life.

When I walked into the house, I immediately saw gorgeous energetic faces that introduced themselves to me. 

I began walking to the detox room (a place you stay alone or with 1 roommate for at least 24 hours before being released into the general population (damn I know that sounds like prison LOL). As I walked to my room these were my thoughts. 

“Damn. This is highschool all over again. All these women are gorgeous with amazing bubbly personalities and I am going to be that awkward girl that follows them around just trying to sneak in a joke.” This is not a diss to anyone I went to highschool with. I still think you guys are amazing, gorgeous with bubbly unique personalities and I love each one of you! It was my own insecurities!  

Anyhow, the women in this house would change my life forever. I want to preference that just like me… we were ALL there for our own personal reasons. They metaphorically and probably sometimes physically shook to show me my self worth. They opened my eyes in a number of ways just by their actions.. Here are just a few examples:

1. They were vulnerable and shared their truths like they too were fighting for their lives 
2. They lifted me up and gave me words of affirmation and encouragement 
3. The were not afraid to make mistakes, crack jokes and be messy 
4. They sang karaoke like f%cking rockstars 
5. They watched Star Wars with me for hours when I was feeling down or bored 
6. They walked on the beach with me and talked about my hopes and dreams 
7. They helped me with homework assignments or woke me up from a nap so I would not miss afternoon session… LOL  
8. They would yell with me at creepy men as they got too close to the gate to see why a bunch of fine ass ladies were laughing so hard (get yo own jokes) 
9. I even got the opportunity to do one of my hypnosis therapy exercises with one of my friends and the results were freakin cool (too “hippy dippy” for you, I understand! I respect your opinion, but please respect mine) 
10. We trauma bonded (in a good way). I was not the only one going through a break up so I felt like I had several people that understood my experience and offered fresh perspectives on their break up. 

I do not have words for how much I love, respect and admire the therapist I had while at this facility. To put it briefly, that woman calmed me with her presence (which is not easy to do). Her light shined through everything she touched because…… that is just her. She taught me how to date myself, love myself and live life to the fullest. I am still not close to actually doing those 3 things the way I prefer, but I promise I am still fighting for my life and striving every day to accomplish the healthy sense of self that I imagined for myself on that beautiful beach down in South Padre Island.

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Bops About My Breakups: Part 1: Catastrophe

“She broke your throne, and she cut your hair AND from your lips she drew the Hallelujah”

I might not get mad like this, but I definitely relate. We all handle stress differently!

Just like the first song, this song is another anthem to this post!

Panic attacks/mental breakdown.. whatever you want to call it…

Finding a “home” is a large part of my security issues. This song to me is about finding a home… and then losing it…. LOVELESS GENERATION? Whatcha think?

Bops About My Breakups: Part 2: Learning to Breathe

Bops About My Breakups: Part 3: My Jay-Z Era : No Captions Needed

HANNAH MONTANA bring us home!!!