Day Five - My Journey Through A Mental Health Facility

It was Wednesday June 3, and time for my 7:00p appointment with Tonya. She opens with the typical "So how are you?" and each session I normally put a lot of thought as to what I am going to say. I foolishly think I set the tone. I mean, it isn't like she doesn't already know how I am doing! I truly suspect the woman is psychic. And I don't believe in psychics. Last session she asked 'the question' and all I said was, "I'm not." I had thought about what to say but really didn't care what answer to give that week, so I was just kind of flippant. The woman still got me to talk meaningfully for 60 minutes though. June 3, I thought and thought, but hadn't come up with the exact words yet. You see, I had a plan. I knew I had shut down and was beyond help. I had begun to willingly and quite easily lie to the people I love and count as my support group, or I just ignored them. I didn't want them to know. I didn't care anymore. It became none of their business in my mind. Why bother when I was failing so miserably? I haven't ever willingly lied to my support group. Ever. But Tonya was the only one left that I was being honest with (well, except she had no idea I was lying to everyone else, but in my defense, she never asked, so maybe she isn't psychic after all). I knew the choice of words was paramount to my plan. Anyway, I went to the session to slyly try and get her to help me figure out how to get permission from my children to die. Now, I think I am pretty smart, and was convinced I could fool the best therapist I have ever had in my life to get the answer I needed, even though she seems to see right through me with a single glance. Sometimes I won't look at the woman. She reads my mind! I thought I could trick her into slipping up and giving me a way to gain approval from my boys to die. I rationally know suicide is selfish. I know it permanently hurts those left behind. It is a huge reason I fight as a mental illness advocate. However, I had played my last card. I asked my children for permission to die and they said no. And besides, in my head, I wasn't suicidal. I just wanted permission to die.


So we sat down, she looked at me, asked 'the question', and I will be damned if out of my mouth popped the words, "I think I need hospitalization, but I can't afford it." I swear to you my mouth dropped a bit and I thought, "WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST SAY?" Tonya didn't immediately tell me how silly of a reason lack of money was not to admit myself, but thanks to her, I did end up admitting myself to Mesa Springs in Fort Worth, Texas, early afternoon on June 4. I agreed to it midway through the session and went home with a game plan to get things in order within 24 hours so I could go. During my 90 (I got 30 free minutes that night) minute session with Tonya, I kept telling her I wasn't suicidal, but I did have one heck of a fool proof plan I was happy to share and thought pretty highly of myself for thinking of it. Why not share? I wasn't suicidal. She didn't challenge me. Instead, she helped me to admit to myself that my preoccupation with gaining approval to die would eventually become greater than the need of my children's approval. And she isn't as smart as she thinks. I know now she made it seem like my idea, but she led me right to the watering hole. She never once told me, "Yes, you are suicidal." And, even though I just didn't care, I did obviously care enough to not want that preoccupation to become true. That is just how good she is. Or maybe she is the sly one??? Hmmm...


I was inpatient for 13 days. The first night home, June 16, I knew I wanted to blog about this, but had no idea how. How could I explain a journey from void to hope and make sense enough to touch someone else? I read a book that Tonya brought to me while there (told you she is awesome). The author tells the story of feeling inferior about giving a speech in which the other speakers are all CFO, CEO, COO types. In discussing it with her husband, she told him of a time where she failed miserably giving a speech that included other peer speakers instead of speakers she felt had more talent than her. I related to that. I felt like a failure and I felt inferior in life at the point when I read her story. All I could think was, here I am a blogger and mental illness advocate that just blogged about stopping suicide, trying to set an example and help people, and I am hospitalized! What else speaks complete failure? So, after reading her story again on my first night home, I made a terrifying decision. I decided to open up to YOU and publish my journal entries - word for word, grammar and spelling errors included (wow, that grates my nerves). The thought causes me to sweat even as I type now. BUT, in defiance of the shame, irrationality, doubt, self hate, irritability, psychosis, confusion, mania, hypomania, depression and anything else mental illness causes, this journey will now become yours if you so choose to read. My hope is you can see that 'broken' can become something 'much less than broken' again. I refuse to use the word 'fixed'. That implies 'works like new' and that was over the second I took my first breath with my childhood background. I won't use the word 'balanced' either. I still got some work to do. So, this is my journey. I do not wish it on a single person in this world. Even my two enemies. Though I say it becomes 'yours', your journey of hospitalization may (hopefully) never happen and if it does, it will be different. But I am now so convinced we ARE each other's best support system, that I am both nervous and excited to share.


So, before I let you loose, there are three things you need to know:


I was the victim of a crime on May 8, 2014. I can almost give you the time but I won't. It is etched in my mind and behind my eyes at random times during the day forever. It changed me. Laura was stolen from me without permission (not that anyone would have given permission).

Bipolar 2 and Generalized Anxiety are not my only diagnoses. I was diagnosed with PTSD December 2014, directly in relation to May 2014's events.

I made three consistent edits to my entry that were necessary:
- details of my suicidal ideation and plan are replaced with the words "-suicide trigger-".
- details of the event on May 8, 2014 are replaced with the words "-event trigger-".
- real names are not used, however, look to the top of the blog. There is a tab called 'Glossary' and it gives the name and relationship to me. Use it if you find the blog confusing. If I would have ever thought I would share this with the general public, I would have done a better job of describing each person!


DAY FIVE SUMMARY - I attend my first group thanks to how I felt safe from friending another patient, Diana. I relate my story in group, but I find it very interesting that my emotions during the group from telling my story do not make it into this entry. Instead my entry focuses on what I get from group. I came into Mesa Springs with the intention of not speaking to a single person. I never expected to meet people I could identify with so easily. While groups benefited me greatly, talking to and hearing other patients talk helped me the most. I learned that I need to share my fears and insecurities with others I can trust instead of being afraid to hurt them. This was the first full day I did that. I have included the points I got out of a handout that day. I did not include all of the handout. I only included the ones I had checked as applying to me and when you see comments in parenthesis, I actually wrote them like that on the handout. What is in parenthesis is not part of the handout, just my thoughts about it.

JOURNAL ENTRY - I am so glad I decided to talk to Diana. Oh my God she is exactly the type of person I want to let in my circle and be my friend. That girl is going nowhere when I get out. And she lives close! She is sweet, positive, understanding, and thank the fuck God I already feel like we can just sit there and not say anything, but be comfortable. No vocal vomit from her. Although I do love the talking from Matthew. He is like da bomb to talk to. I didn't want to shut up talking to him. Could he possibly be the first male friend I want in my life since May. CAN I TRUST HIM? I need her. It seems like she can accept my insanity and not reject me. Is she the beginning of me coming back? Is her acceptance of me the first ray of sunshine that maybe I deserve to live? I can actually look her in the eye and not feel ashamed that she met me. I am so glad I chose her. And she convinced me to go to group. I hope she doesn't figure me out. What if I hurt her. She doesn't deserve it either.

Group -
Failure is failure but not complete, never ending and always predictive failure. Look for exceptions. What was a similar situation where you succeeded. If none, did you survive yesterday? Then you succeeded. Therefore failure is not predictive of always failing. Failure is just a mistake. It is an opportunity to problem solve. It takes steps. You may have to go through the steps and have to adjust. If you solve the problem and later fail, do not think in a catastrophic way. Go back to what worked or restart the problem solving. - from group

Does this mean I am not a complete failure? I have lived 50 years of days. I have held a job before. I have won awards. I have blogged like my dream. I do love the boys. I did have three good years after Sundance. Food for thought. Must think this further.

vicious cycle - negative beliefs
virtuous cycle - positive belief and evidence to prove the vicious wrong
example: my vicious - I am a worthless person. I fail my children by not having a job. I fail my blog by not blogging enough, so worthless.
my virtuous - I am a person of worth - I am here to change and stabilize my meds - I don't have to make a lot, but I can get a job if I work hard here. I WANT to work to support my children, have made the choice to come here to get to the point I can, so not a failure.

I MUST STOP ADDING ALL THE NEGATIVE THOUGHT INTERJECTIONS TO THIS VIRTUOUS. Question is how now? Food for thought. I forced myself to write it without the negative so is there hope? Can I learn to think this habitually? Probably not, but that is vicious. Maybe. That is as virtuous as I can manage right now. Honestly at least.

Positive statements encourage us and help us cope through distressing times. We can say these encouraging words to ourselves and be our own personal coach. We have all survived some very distressing times, and we can use those experiences to encourage us through current difficulties. Examples:
-stop and breathe, I can do this (survive another day)
-this will pass (that fucking never ending depressive state)
-I can be anxious angry sad and still deal with this (does this include rage)
-this feels bad and that is a normal body reaction (disagree what the fuck is normal)
-this feels bad and feelings can be wrong (especially with bipolar)
-this wont last forever (even if seems it will)
-I have survived before, I will survive now (ummmmmm)
-I feel this way because of my past experiences, but I am safe right now (hmmm, that food for thought. Failure after success may not be predictive of permanent failure again. Interesting. Must think further to this one)
-my mind is not always my friend (no fuck)
-thoughts are just thoughts not necessarily true or factual (wow, that is a hard one. How do you know which is which. Future consideration)
-I can learn from this and it will be easier next time (ok, I call BULLSHIT on this but I am willing to think on this one. It just seems to get harder each time, but am I doing that myself with my vicious. I guess I can be vicious with myself. But don't I deserve the vicious. Holy shit I really need to think this one through. Am I my own worst enemy instead of my own advocate that knows better than everyone else about myself. Can I trust this thought. hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Think Think Think. This could possibly be key.)
Keep calm and carry on (cant resist - keep calm and carry on being a cowboys fan makes more sense but yeh, think about this too. Is freaking out helping me validate negative and vicious???) - handout

Kennedy upped the prazocin. I am willing to give it a chance. Maybe it can get rid of my nightmares. Group today gives me hope. Makes me really think. Do I perpetuate myself. If that is true does that prove my insanity and worthlessness or do I need to accept and heal? Confusing to me right now? How do I know the difference? How do I feel this in my gut? Tell me and intellectually I accept. Intellectual didn't seem to work for me. How do I drive this from uncomfortable to habitual thought? How can I get it to reach my heart and gut so I can be something more than failure. If I fail again, how can I see it as a mistake and worthy of readjusting with different steps instead of deciding to -suicide trigger-. Bipolar is so black and white. At least for me. Is that my perfectionism? Am I the only idiot to suffer bipolar like this? Or am I even an idiot? Do we all suffer this? How can I find out? Can I beg my readers to tell me? How do I ask? I want to reach them. I want to help. I don't want to suddenly need their help. What if I hurt them? That is failure. But as a failure can I? Wait. Am I am failure. Gah. vicious versus virtuous. How the hell am I going to get to that. I am fucking good at vicious because it is true. Is it? Confusion. Confusion. CONFUSION. How do I know what is for me here and not? Maybe I do need more than a med change. Do I need to regroup my coping skills? Can you lose coping skills? Or does that just mean you failed at getting them the first time when they don't work or you stop. Can you get them back? Does it work anyway? I have no desire to cope. But I do. If I fail at coping is it failure or a mistake I can correct. This is all confusing but good for thought. But my mind is fucking racing. Maybe that is good. Is this a turnaround? Can I trust a turnaround. It has failed before. Is that predictive failure. How do I know. Wait til I die to decide. This is very hard. I don't want to accept. Is that part of the problem. Afraid of success? Why? Because I think anything but what people think I should be is failure? I can't be depressive. Not acceptable in their book. Is that them or me? Wow. If it is them, how do I survive living in this closet of unacceptance and discrimination because I have to hide the real me? Or am I just right? I AM A FUCKING FAILURE. What to think. I am confused right now. But at least I don't want to kill myself or cut right now. My thighs need a rest anyway. OH get serious Laura. You really aren't a cutter. They didn't even notice the healing ones when they did their little inspection last week. I don't have to cut deep to get relief and I am smart enough to know where arteries are and I know to use neosporin after. I just do it a little to feel better. Diana made me feel so safe today. Stacey made me laugh my ass off. She fucking took a radio out of a truck - I mean like yanked it and clocked someone. I like this chick. I can think of a bitch that deserves more than a fucking clock by a radio. Think I may hire Stacey.