Shifting Sands: or...How spending a week in a psychiatric hospital was the best thing to ever happen to me

[mizkaye]

4 days...I was only gone 4 days...but it seems like a lifetime to me now...and the world around me, which once seemed so small, now seems so large...I'm told this is a normal reaction upon being released from a psychiatric hospital. 

That's right...I said psychiatric hospital.  So, here's the thing...the last year of my life has been like a bad episode of some hard to believe reality show.  To many things to deal with in to short a time.  The last year saw me dealing with a diagnosis of Lupus,2 surgeries, death of my father-in-law, finding my father after being estranged from him for 18 years then the death of his mother, my grandmother that helped raise me, a short 3 months later, the suicide of my brother-in-law, developmental delays that required treatment for my daughter, loss of my career due to my illness, a drastic cut in my husband's income due to the economy, marital problems with my husband...the list goes on and on.  I thought I was dealing with all this...thought I was dealing well, in fact.  After all, I was the strong one...the one everybody depended on...the one that could handle anything.  Boy was I WRONG. 

On Monday afternoon at approximately 3pm I was standing on my front porch chain smoking when all of a sudden I started to cry and feel some major anxiety when I heard me tell myself 'Pick up the phone and call your mom...get to the hospital or you'll be dead by morning'.  So, that's what I did...I picked up the phone and called my mother.  My 2 youngest children were inside, my husband at work.  Thankfully, my mother was home and answered right away and she, my best friend, my brother and my sister's boyfriend immediately came to my aid.  I'm not sure what happened next...I'm told I was hysterical and crying and shaking.  I'm told I was taken to the ER and checked over for physical problems and then admitted into the psychiatric hospital for observation.  I remember coming around about 6 or 7 pm that evening and my first thought upon realizing where I was was anger...I was PISSED!  I'm not sure why...but I was pissed.  I spent the night in observation and the next day met with a psychiatrist who decided I should check in and spend a few days with them.  Dammit!  They weren't going to let me leave!  Fuck...might as well just go ahead and go along with them or I won't ever get out of here...so I shut my mouth and went along with the game plan. 

They kicked me upstairs to the 'High Functioning Unit'.  Finally...I got to wear real clothes instead of a hospital gown...got a little bit of privacy and liberal phone privileges and visitors and food with silverware and caffeine and sugar!  I spent the first evening there in a group just crying.  I didn't sleep well that first night but I did do some thinking...LOTS of thinking.  How did I get here?  What am I doing with my life?  How do I get out of here????  By 6 am, I had some answers...I was there because I needed to be there.  It was quiet there, unlike at my house.  I was able to THINK...to gather myself together and sift through the ashes of the last year and see that DAMN...I had been through A LOT!  At that point I became calm and focused....I decided I had found some solid ground to stand on while I got my bearings.  See, the last year of my life was like standing in the ocean getting knocked down by one wave after another...and always looking for the sand beneath my feet but as we all know, after a wave hits you, the sand shifts...you can't find it even if it was right there before.  So, you shuffle and you tread water and you try with all your might to find it before the next wave...but sometimes you don't...sometimes the waves come to fast and in my case, they came fast and big and then they swept me out with them into the vast ocean with nothing to grab onto and pull me back into shore. 

I got out of bed that morning...Tuesday...with a fragile sense of strength and peace.  I was here...I wasn't going anywhere anytime soon so I might as well get what I could out of this place.  So, I did...I talked...and talked...and talked.  I talked to counselors, I talked to the psychiatrist, I talked to the social worker, I talked to the nurses, I talked to the other patients, I talked to the student nurses that were observing us, I talked in group, I talked at breakfast, lunch and dinner...I got it all out...everything...what I had been through, how it made me feel, how sad I was to find myself in this situation, how I needed to acknowledge that occasionally, everybody breaks...out it came.  In great, long, fast monologues.  Finally, somebody was listening to me...finally, a peaceful place with no job to go to, no kids to tend to, nothing to interrupt my thoughts and my peace and quiet.  This was what I needed...a step back...a refuge...a safe harbor...and finally, I had found it!  Glorious peace...wonderful time...blissful silence.  'Just step back a minute, Kaye...You aren't crazy...you're just overwhelmed.  You aren't psychotic...you're just tired.  You aren't insane...you're just overloaded.  You broke...but you aren't broken!' 

By Thursday, my release day, I felt renewed...full of strength and ready to face life again.  I felt like I had taken a nice long shower and washed the gunk of my life away.  I can't begin to explain how optimistic I feel about my life and my future.  I'm told that it's not unusual to feel ashamed for admitting that I was in a psychiatric hospital.  But, oddly enough, I'm not ashamed at all...I'm PROUD!  I'm proud of myself for recognizing that in my darkest hour help was there...all I needed to do was ask for it and it would be given.  My family, my friends, my co-workers, the doctor and staff at the hospital...they were all there just when I needed them most.  I can't thank them enough for that...for saving my life.  I'm not sure if I will ever be able to pay them back. 

This truly is the first day of the rest of my life...and that makes me happy. 

[kittyhasclaws]

Oct. 3, 2009 at 2:54 PM

I'm proud of you too, Kaye.  There are too many people who don't listen to that little voice that says, "GET HELP!"  Good on you for listening to it. 

[auroragold]

Oct. 3, 2009 at 5:27 PM

That's a great post Kaye. 

[amileegirl]

Oct. 3, 2009 at 5:34 PM

Wow that was a lot.    Glad you are on the path to move forward!

[ithi]

Oct. 6, 2009 at 6:47 PM

(((((hugs))))))

I'm so glad you got your footing back.  All I want to do is HUG you!

[krisr169]

Oct. 7, 2009 at 12:04 PM

It really does something to your mind and outlook, doesn't it?  I was hospitalized about 2.5 years ago for major depression, although I don't have any qualms telling anyone some people to respond negatively.  Like hubby's family.  They refuse to even acknowledge it happened.  

I'm glad you got some help, but remember the road doesn't stop here.  It'll keep on going and sometimes try to suck you back down.  I'm always here if you need anything Kaye.