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Sunday, August 8, 2010

Lesson: Unintended

I have been on the wildest ride ever imagined, and it feels much longer than the 24 hours I actually spent in the [place similar to the nuthouse, with a name I won't disclose].

The lessons I learned there were surely unintended by the staff, but I feel I have an obligation to pass them on. Finally, the voice I've been waiting for -- I have a book to write.  (All it took was going off the deep end.)

I went in Tuesday afternoon, after a scary weekend of depression so deep I was sure I would have to give up, and I spent one terrifying night there. Going in I thought I'd probably stay a few days, get a break and several days of therapy - but no one could have prepared me for what it was really like there. Had I known what I would be facing, I probably wouldn't have gone in at all. For my naivety I am grateful, because I learned things there I didn't prepare for, and wouldn't have chosen for myself.

My life has taken so many turns I never guessed I would take, and I am going to be the first to tell you I thought I was going insane. Everyone I knew thought it too, especially those living with me, so I was starting to give up on life altogether. After my husband and I split up (and then got back together), I started to obsess over everything. My looks, my weight, what he was doing, where he was going, who he was talking to, how he was acting, etc., etc. I go around and around in circles in my mind, obsessing about what I look like and whether he might be doing something he shouldn't be doing, if he is going to leave me, etc. There's only so many circles your mind can take before you feel like you're going crazy.

Saturday night I called the crisis line. I told them I was ready to give up and that I'm already in therapy so I didn't know what else to do. They said, "We have this place called the [name of place]. It's a residential place where you could come, get immediate medication adjustments, and some immediate therapy in a safe environment." That sounded like what I needed, so I discussed it with my family and a couple close friends. Steve wasn't comfortable with the idea, my mom was unsure about it, and my friends were sure it was a good idea. I wasn't either of those things. I couldn't figure out what I wanted, where I should go, what I should do. I took three days to really ponder and decide, and eventually decided to go in to the unit Tuesday afternoon. 

For the next couple of days I will be posting unedited entries from my journal that I wrote while I was there. The lessons I learned there and the progress I have made are immeasurable, and only could be understood through the exact words I wrote while I was experiencing it. 

I pray to God what I experienced can help some of you, even in a small way.

3 comments:

  1. That picture is actually of my sister! Haha we look like twins, it's ridiculous! This post reminded me of Dooce as well! She suffered from seperation anxiety with her first kid and went to they psych ward. Her book, which you can get at the library, is kind of about it. It's called "It Sucked and Then I Cried"

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  2. (This is not to say that you shouldn't write a book on this experience because it's already been done one bit! Sorry! I hope i didn't come off that way. In fact I think an experience like this with your voice is a great idea for an excellent book!)

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