The concerned ones asked: Why? How come? What triggered it?
(Originally written by Eve Hinson on 10.30.12 in creative writing journal at Blue Sky Wellness Center)
It was like they were asking questions that didn’t apply to my mental breakdown.
I haven’t heard anyone ask someone why they had a cardiac arrest, doubt their condition, think it’s over-exaggerated or confusing. Same thing with diabetes and other physical health conditions. They wait to see what the doctor has to say.
So, and for the most part I know it’s out of love — at least for me, what makes family and friends assume I can tell them why I have mental illness? I know why I showed up at the door of the behavioral center: suicide ideation. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Group Therapy: Outsider’s Ask Why? Insiders Know.
Its ok. I know its my fault. Be better if I had died.
(Written as an email by Eve Hinson on 10/2/12)
no, i’m not being knee-jerk here. lets get real. i’m the one fucking up the equation.
you all would be stable it it weren’t for me and my moods. my kids are being raised by someone like *. i shouldn’t be here.
i knew i shouldn’t have bought the jeep. i kept thinking you were thinking it was wrong.
You explained things to me. We don’t have a marriage. We have a crazy woman and a guy who says, “yes.”
forget portland. sorry seattle was a bad idea. i’m not lookkign for yes — i’m asking for your true opinion. I rely on it. So it’s is on you too. I asked. I wasn’t sure. Now i hate it. and this. and my fucking life.
Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Hope Lost
Had some news. Approved for SSDI. The kicker is the doctor doesn’t think I’m competent to handle my finances.
(Originally sent as an email by Eve Hinson on 5.19.12, plus following responses on 5.20.12)
Listened to the lady call Jim at work and do paperwork so my checks, and the kids’, are deposited to his account. Get labeled mental and everything they give you costs a pound of dignity.
I’ve decided to take my netbook with me next time. That way if I need to tell them they’re an asshole, I can do so without stuttering. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Too Crazy To Manage Finances
(By Eve Hinson, originally written in a journal probably during class on 02.16.1989)
You perverted animal
Stalking all your Jungle Streets
Going in for your bloody kill
Taking senseless lives as you please
One Less Headache, One more psycho
What a precious civilization
the blood is still dripping
what a wonderful civilization
One more night – one more day
Who cares, soon you’ll all be dead
stupid clones with all your systematic dreams
you’re day is coming
That’s the way the world turns
in your positively terrific
civilization. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Autistic Teen Poetry(?) via 1989
This is a list of symptoms I carried for years to give a copy to neurologists, psychiatrists, rheumatologists, cardiologists — you name it.
It never felt like my lived experiences mattered and the only information processed, the only thing, that anyone read off this list was paired with the term severe mental illness and dismissed.
Yes, so once severe mental illness (PTSD & FND) caused by childhood sexual traumas was noted, the rest of this list went ignored. Though I did insist a copy go with my records. If it’s in there, I don’t know.
What I do know regardless of hospital, doctor, or emergency room I was seen — my symptoms were all viewed as a mental break and physical issues went untreated that the psychiatrist wasn’t able to address.
It amazes me still how I was left to suffer while being tossed between doctors like a hot potato. The list was handed back to my by a neurologist once who insisted I accept my mental illness diagnosis. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Checklist of a Psychiatric Break
The garden is saving my sanity. Even on the days my body feels horrendous and the tremors were so bad I would vomit, those few moments of clarity I would imagine it.
(By Eve Hinson, found in a journal originally written April 2011)
Perhaps it’s the garden of hope. No that’s too corny and until this week I’ve not had the energy or health to hope.
Maybe the garden of acceptance for this disability that has knocked me on my ass.
I don’t know what to name this year’s crop and flowers. You know what, that’s OK. I understand now I can have goals without deadlines. I still have value even without a career or the ability to care for my children full-time. Continue reading Evolution of Eve |The Garden in 2011
Getting to the hospital room had been a challenge. I was 30-weeks pregnant, battling preeclampsia and ready to drop. The risk I’d deliver my daughter prematurely was as high as my blood pressure. And that was the best-case scenario.
(By Eve Hinson, originally published Summer/Fall 2009)
After I had changed into a gown and climbed into the air-pressurized bed, I wanted to sleep but there was too much commotion. It didn’t matter. I was light-headed with relief.
The nurse and her aide orbited like satellites while Jim sat in a chair, out of the way. Between the two an IV was inserted, a pressure cuff wrapped and a baby monitor strapped. Circling intermittently was a tech to draw blood, a woman delivering dinner, and two giggly girls with a portable ultrasound machine to measure fetal growth and amniotic fluid. There were others, but I was too spaced to register what their duties were.
Continue reading Evolution of Eve | A Mother of a Birth Story: Antepartum Panic [pt 4]
Introduction video to the series. This will be a year-long project.
Memory loss, scattered focus, inability to track time, and an ill-known stigmatized neurological disorder, plus PTSD symptoms, have erased or complicated recall of Eve’s first 37 years of life.
Now in her mid-40s, Eve is Autistic AF (born that way) and left with a brain that doesn’t include filters (she says fuck. a lot), likes to glitch and, after the memory wipe, created a new personhood. Eve is different to those who’ve known her from childhood. She is unknown even to herself and seeking to learn about her life from back then, and embracing life now.
This series focuses on self-discovery after the onset of severe mental illness, memory loss and permanent disability. It’s a different life and a worthy life.
Contact Eve | email@example.com
Find Evolution of Eve posts here.
Also, hanging out here
Facebook : https://www.facebook.com/genevievechoatehinson
Twitter : https://twitter.com/BadassActivist
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National Alliance for Mental Illness (NAMI) : https://www.nami.org/
Autistic Self Advocacy Network (ASAN): http://autisticadvocacy.org/
At 30-weeks pregnant I was being admitted to the high-risk antepartum unit. The trip to the hospital was an exhaustive blur. Forget preeclampsia, I needed sleep.
(By Eve Hinson, originally published Summer/Fall 2009 | Currently there isn’t a part 2 available. If it’s found, will post in the future.)
“Where do we check in?” said Jim after he braked for a red light.
“I don’t know. The emergency room?” We didn’t get a tour of this hospital – or any maternity ward for that matter. “That’s what the Clovis hospital had us do.” We’d gone there when I was 27-weeks pregnant for tests.
Jim headed that way. Well, at least in the direction we thought it was. The street the entrance used to be located had a multi-story building plopped in the middle. I surmised it must be the new trauma wing.
“Well, where do we go now?”
“I don’t know.” The last time I was here was on Jared’s birthday 16 years earlier. So much had changed. Maybe we could go home, grab a few hours of sleep and then come back.
“Just drive around it until there’s a sign.”
Sigh. It was better to just get this over with. Besides, if we went home I wouldn’t get any rest. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | A Mother of a Birth Story [pt 3]: Antepartum
My daughter is a miracle. From conception to birth she battled to be born. Even now, as we gaze into each other’s eyes when she nuzzles and nurses, I’m amazed she is really, truly here.
(By Eve Hinson. Originally published Summer/Fall 2009)
Still, I can’t get enough of her and nibble her tender toes, cheeks and belly. Her skin is warm and sweet. I rub my face against her downy auburn hair and am thankful she’s alive. I’m relieved we both survived. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | A Mother of a Birth Story [pt. 1]
Colored this picture of B. while in the psych ward.
(By Eve Hinson. Originally written as a series of emails to a friend on 10.5.12)
Strange to think the stereotype of the mentally ill in the day room, all coloring and the small tv on the wall playing some really outdated TV show, but damn if it isn’t true. Thinking of B. was comforting.
Wanted to let you know where I’ve been and that I’m home now. Fragile but hopeful. It’s a start. . . . I’ll see you on the other side.
I hit a wall. Became suicidal. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Psych Ward: Surviving Suicide Compulsion in 2012
Man, been a rough couple of days. Made sure to kiss my kids goodbye every time I left the house, not knowing if I’d see ’em again.
(By Eve Hinson, originally written in an email to a close friend on 12.24.2010)
Got tremors so bad Jim said I made Michael J. Fox look like a brain surgeon. Couldn’t walk w/o my cane and support from a human. Couldn’t drive. Almost wrecked three times before I clued in it was my head blanking out w/o warning.
On disability right now for six months. They looked for tumors, ms, als, stroke, brain bleeds. You name it. Continue reading Evolution of Eve | Life after the trigger: Unwell, undead and undiagnosed