My Birthday at the Behavioral Hospital…

I know some people have been wondering if things were ok because I hadn’t written a blog in a few days. Well, no, I wasn’t ok and am still struggling but I am on my way to being ok.

To answer your question as to why I wasn’t ok, I was suicidal. I won’t go into the details with you all but I’ve had suicidal ideation for as long as I can remember, and every time but one (in the past) I was able to fight it. The other day the compulsion, the urge to follow through was so strong, it scared the shit (pardon my French) out of me. I immediately called my husband into the room and told him I needed to go for treatment. Again.

You see, depression isn’t something you get treated for and then you’re fine. It hangs over you like a black cloud. Some days you can manage to ignore that cloud or step out from under it and other days you can’t shake it. This particular day the cloud almost won. My psychiatrist said I showed, “A strong will to live” to have the tools to follow through with my urge but asking for help instead. A gold star for me, thank you very much.

I was hoping it’d be a quick admission and I’d be home in time for my birthday but I’ve learned you can’t rush recovery. Everyone has to do it at their own pace. The first couple days I was at the hospital, I was so depressed I could barely make groups. I did miss some and that doesn’t look good to the doc whose trying to get you balanced so you can go home. The depression was just winning and making my life and my family’s life a living hell. There were days I still wasn’t sure I wanted to live but every day I made it through. Somehow.

So fast forward a few days, it’s November 21, my birthday. Now, we never do anything too extravagant but I just really wanted to see my family. Visitation wasn’t that day so I couldn’t see them. It was a rough day and I cried the majority of it. My peers and the staff on the unit made me little notes saying how they felt about me, sending me well wishes or giving me compliments, and they sang me “Happy Birthday.” It may not have been the same as being home but it was special nonetheless.

It’s amazing the friendships you develop while on a psychiatric unit. Everyone is going through the same shit so they get you in a way nobody else can. It’s not easy for an introverted, shy person like me, but I did eventually open up and feel like I made quite a few friends.

So, that’s the answer to my followers question…I was in the hospital, focusing once again on my mental health. I have a long way to go and as that journey is over, a new journey has begun but that story is for another day.

XOXO

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