Doc, I'm not crazy. I just wanted to kill myself!

Second Guessing

2010-07-25T13:12:00.000-04:00

I believe there comes a time during the withdrawal process that one begins to second guess if this was the correct decision. Whether you made the decision on your own, or if it was made for you (ran out of meds, couldn't pay for them, etc.), the feelings of regret kick in. ... Can I really make it without (insert drug name here)?
That's pretty much what I am experiencing now. It's been a little over a month Cymbalta free and I am feeling on the low end as far as my emotions are concerned - but after the terrible withdrawal that I have been through - do I really want to go back again? I think not! So the question I need to ask myself is, how do I support a healthy mindset so that I don't get sucked back into the black hole? Well, I have a few ideas:

writing;
reading, but keep it light (think fashion/gossip mags or funny/romance books);
exercise -which in various studies has been shown to work BETTER than antidepressants;
playing with the kids (if you don't have any, play with your friends' or neighbors' children);
more girls' night out (or, if you are a guy, make the appropriate adjective change);
a new hobby, or even an old hobby that you may haven't nurtured in a long time and;
video games - puzzle, shooter, action, RPG, racing, whatever suits you

This is a good starting point, I'm sure you can think of more.

Now, I'm off to read OK! Magazine.

Cymbalta come down part duex

2010-07-09T14:46:00.002-04:00

Image via Wikipedia

I'm into week 4 of my detox from Cymbalta and I must admit that I am finally beginning to feel more like myself. Whoopeee!!! When I first ran out of my pills, I had no idea that the journey would be so hard. Who knew that coming off of an antidepressant would cause one to feel like they had a major case of the flu?

All I can say for those of you considering stopping this drug abruptly -don't, if you can help it.
It is definitely NOT a walk in the park!

While getting off this drug you will:

Cry for no apparent reason at all
Feel like you have a killer case of "morning sickness" that last all day
Snap at your children, husband, wife, co-workers and other innocent bystanders
Be completely exhausted
Experience muscle aches
Want to make hasty, rash and often ill-advised decisions that make absolutely no sense (i.e. quit your job that you love, run away from home, or shave your head bald ala Britney Spears)

This is just some of the unpleasantness that you can expect to encounter when you decide to discontinue the use of these meds. Actually, let me rephrase that - this is just some of the unpleasantness that I encountered when I was thrust into this predicament! :) Your individual experience may vary and I advise you to proceed with caution.

There are many websites out there that can offer advice about the best way to get off of Cymbalta and other antidepressants. You could use your favorite search engine to find them. A couple of good ones that I like are cymbaltawithdrawal.com and theroadback.org. Both offer forums where you can connect with others seeking to break free from antidepressants and get some pretty good suggestions on natural supplements you can try to ease symptoms.

The good news though is that there is a light at the end of the "withdrawal tunnel" and thank God that I have seen the light! Now, I just need to focus on keeping myself from getting back on that horse again.

Cymbalta Come Down

2010-07-08T17:45:00.006-04:00

About a month ago, I ran out of my beloved Cymbalta. The first week went okay, but by the second week I was miserable. It was about this time that I decided that I was through with taking this medication. Here's a little bit about how it's been going so far.

Oh, Cymbalta, Cymbalta...how I loved thee - but after this month of misery I will never pop another one of your beautiful, ocean-blue pills into my mouth again!

The nausea, nightsweats, shakes and anxiousness that kept me awake...
My mood swings and crying spells were just too much to take.
Joint pain and muscle weakness - could you give me a break?
All I want is to be free from your tight embrace!
Thoughts of suicide no longer swim in my head.
My life is amazing and I don't want to be dead.
In fact I'm moving forward -striving to new heights.
But now that I don't need you anymore, you still put up a fight.
Like an abusive lover who does not want me to leave.
Not having you has beat me down recently.
Let me go! Let me go!
Is all that I scream
For I am sooooo determined to break free.
Don't get me wrong, Cymbalta. I appreciate you.
For all the tough times, that you helped me get through.
The time is now, for me though, to move on.
I won't forget you or the road we tread on.

The Card

2009-06-09T10:46:00.006-04:00

This past weekend, my mom gave me something that I have not been able to stop thinking about. It was a card. It read, "Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over - it became a butterfly." It just got me to thinking. Imagine being a caterpillar. One day you are crawling around and suddenly you feel the urge to gorge yourself until all you can do it roll up into a ball and hide yourself in this "shell". Imagine how dark it must be inside. What is going on? Why am I in here? Will I ever see the light of day again? Weeks and weeks go by with no end in sight. It has become almost unbearable. But suddenly, something changes. The shell begins to weaken and there seems to be a crack in it's impenetrable armor. You squirm to get a glimpse of the light that is coming through the small opening. Could it be? Could it be that I will escape this dark cocoon that has had it grip on me for so long? Or is my mind playing tricks on me again? I will never get out of here! That hole is too small! I've been in here so long, why should things change? But it's too uncomfortable in here. Actually, it hurts. You have no choice. You have to move. So you wriggle and wriggle to get yourself free. You get tired. You stop. You wonder if you should give up. Maybe it's not worth it to get out of here. What's the point? Maybe this is a futile effort - despite your doubts, you keep going. Before you know it, you are outside of the cocoon. Exhausted, you sit there letting the light hit your body. You have been under great pressure, pushed beyond your limits but you have freed yourself. As you stretch out your aching body, you realize that you have these beautiful, glorious wings! Oh, my God where did these come from? You spread the wings to get a better look. They are strong and delicate; covered in a palette of colors that rivals the most extraordinary rainbow. With these you will no longer be relegated to crawling around on the ground with the fear of being stomped by trampling feet. You can now explore like never before; getting an ariel view of things; going from flower to flower and tasting the sweet nectar inside. This is what you were destined to do. You were meant to fly.

Okay, so I fell off the horse again!

2009-05-27T15:19:00.002-04:00

Well, it's been awhile since I've written because I fell off the horse again. About 2 months ago I had another stay in the hospital (what fun). Anyway, I'm back but I have decided to stop taking my meds because they just don't seem to be working. Why keep popping pills when there is no change? I am through with it! I am just straight up sick and tired of going through this! I am sick and tired of the struggle to function everyday. I am sick of being tired. I am sick of not enjoying my life. I am sick of the pill popping. I guess you can tell from my tone that I haven't really gotten back up on the horse yet. Not sure when that is going to happen. We'll see how the next few days without Prozac feels and then I'll get back to you.

Getting back on the horse

2009-02-15T22:58:00.003-05:00

Well, it has been quite a while since my last post. I guess you could say I had a little "set back". After another switch in meds; a major depressive episode and a two week hiatus from work, I am beginning to realize that at some point these medications just seem to stop working (at least for me, anyway). Based on this, I have come to the decision that I do not want to take these antidepressants anymore. I am going to have to rely on other, more natural methods. Besides, the withdrawals are horrendous - I am dealing with the lack of Cymbalta as I write this and hope to God that I am going to make it through the upcoming work week with some sense of sanity:)

So, it's back on the horse I go. Dealing with my life and it's responsibilities drug free; on my own. I can do this. Well, I guess I have to. I'm sure my psychiatrist will not be to excited for me - but I gotta try and tackle this thing once and for all. I spoke with a herbalist who suffers from bipolar disorder and she told me that she has not taken medication in 2 years. She recommended that I take a good multivitamin, vitamin D and DHA (in the form of fish oil). I have doing that for about 2 weeks and it does seem to make the withdrawals less unbearable. I plan on keeping it up and see how it goes.

In the meantime, I will be getting my speech ready for my psych as to why I am not going on another mind altering drug. I just don't want to be lifted up to this grandiose state of mind only to have it all come crashing down upon me like some horrible nightmare! When the medication wears off, I feel like Neo in the Matrix when he finds out that his whole life as he knew it was really an illusion - not a fun feeling at all.

The journey continues....

New birth

2008-12-03T16:46:00.002-05:00

I called this post "new birth" because since I began writing this blog I feel like I have been reborn. The depressed, scared person that I was has retreated back into her shell. This is the eve of my birthday and I feel like a new person. I am the butterfly that has come out of the cocoon and spread its wings, ready to take off! I know. I know. That sounds sooo corny, but you know what? I don't care, it is the truth.

Now, of course this has not been an easy process. The past 2 years were filled with difficulties; therapists, doctors, Paxil withdrawl,weight gain, psychiatrist, sleeplessness and a hospital stay to name a few- but going through the struggle has made me stronger.

I feel like I am beginning to understand this depression thing more - instead of just trying to deny and bury why I feel the way I do. Maybe that is the key to overcoming this thing. Instead of reisiting and being in denial (like I did for so long), just raise your hands to the sky and ask for help. When you feel like life cannot get any lower and you are just too tired to go on, remember that there is always an opening at the end of that long, black tunnel. Just as you emereged from your mother's womb into this world, breathing for the first time, living life and seeing the light - you will emerege from this struggle, breathing again, living life and seeing the light. It will be your rebirth.

Do unto others - the power of helping

2008-11-25T16:56:00.003-05:00

Usually during this time of year, efforts to assist the less fortunate go into high gear. Normally, I have not participated in such efforts, but this year I had a couple of opportunities to do some volunteer work in my community. Last week, a local church hosted a feed the hungry day where they offered free meals to homeless and needy individuals all day. I helped to serve the meals. Also, I helped an older lady pack up and give out Thanksgiving food baskets for elderly residents. In both instances, I could feel the appreciation from the people that we were helping. The smile that came onto their faces really made me feel good. I loved feeling like I was making a difference in someone else's life.

What does all this have to do with depression, you ask? Well over the years I've found that the more I focus on other people, the harder it is for me to fall deeper into my own hole. The more I help someone else, the more I help myself. Giving is sometimes the best gift that I can receive. It truly does something positive to the psyche. When you get that appreciative thank you or smile or hug from someone because you made their day - it's indescribable how good that feels. You don't have to have a lot to give. Maybe you can read a story to a group of elementary school kids, or mentor a kid who doesn't have a support system, or spend time with an elderly neighbor who is alone or volunteer at a local soup kitchen. I don't know - whatever you feel passionate about. But realize that you CAN and DO make a difference in the lives of others.

Helping others is good medicine for what ails you. I can testify to that!

Progress is great!

2008-11-25T16:38:00.003-05:00

The past few weeks have been great. I've been walking everyday. Taking my meds. Playing with the kids (and the hubby). Just enjoying life again! I went to the doc last week and found out that I lost 7 pounds. Hurray!! I have had this overwhelming sense of peace and calm. I think the walking has helped sooooo much. Ever since I started, I have not needed the Ambien or the herbal sleep "potion" that I had been using. Plus, the Cymbalta has really kicked in. Life is good. For anyone reading this, there is hope. No matter how down and depressed you feel, there is HOPE! I mean a couple of months ago, I was in the hospital wanting to kill myself. Now look at me. God can do anything and turn any situation around - have faith. I am not trying to preach because I don't know what your beliefs may be but I just wanted to put that thought in your ear. Take care, everyone!

My new pastime

2008-10-23T16:59:00.007-04:00

Haven't we all heard the stories about studies on depression and exercise? You know, that it works better at treating this malady than some common antidepressants. Well,with the way that I had been feeling lately, I wasn't buying it. First of all how did they find this out? Getting a depressed person to exercise is like trying to give a cat a bath - and if any of you have ever tried that then you KNOW what I am talking about... It is truly a hard thing to do. Now for months and months my psych has been trying to encourage me to be more active, but no matter how fat I got I was not motivated. I read articles on how depression was helped by exercise, but again - a no go. I didn't care. I didn't "feel like" going outside, in the sunshine for a walk. I didn't want to get my heart pumping. Hell, that just reminded me of the panic attacks! I didn't want to breathe in the fresh air. Who gives a crap! You know? That's what I thought until now.

Two days ago, a coworker of mine sent out an email asking for people to join her "walking club". Members would meet up in the lobby and then walk around the neighborhood for 30 minutes. I cringed when I first read the email. "Oh, gosh! I need to do this to lose some weight, but(insert excuses here)... So anyway, after vacillating for awhile on the matter, I decided to give it a shot. I mean what's the worse that could happen? Well, the WORSE that could happen would be that as we were walking a wayward car runs up onto our path killing us all. Sorry, there goes my imagination again ... back to the walking. I decided to give it a shot and boy, am I glad that I did! The past two days have been looking up. There is definitely something to this whole exercise as a treatment deal. Now don't get me wrong, I do believe that I need the medication. I would not have had the nerve to leave the house, work, mother my children (insert other task) without it. But, I must say that my mood has slowly lifted since I began the walks. I laughed out loud yesterday for the first time in weeks. Really! I was like, "Thank God! I feel like a person again."

I am announcing on this blog, for anyone who happens to read this that I, QtKira, am going to stick to this walking thing. No matter that the colder days are upon us - I will stick to it! I will layer my clothes. I will bring my tennis shoes to work. I will do this. If anyone else wants to try, please do. I know it's hard to start and I am NOT promising a miracle, but you will feel a bit better. Even a bit is better than nothing. So hang in there with me.

My Happy List

2008-10-20T22:13:00.003-04:00

Okay, my therapist called me today and suggested that I make a "happy" list - a list of things that make me feel happy. When he asked me to do this last week. I was not feeling it and really couldn't think of anything that made me happy. Happy? I haven't felt happy in weeks! Well, when he brought it up today, I thought I would give it a try. I would like to share that list with you. Try thinking up your own list of "happy" things. You'll be surprised at all the little things that really do brighten our lives.

My Happy List:

Seeing my son and daughter play together

Hearing my children laugh out loud

Hearing anybody’s children laugh out loud

Playing solitaire on the computer

Watching Stargate SG-1 (NOT Atlantis)

A bottle of raspberry Kombucha (fermented Chinese tea)

Hanging out over my mom’s house

Grand Theft Auto IV (a guilty pleasure)

Playing Sodoku

Dancing

Watching my husband dance

House Hunters

When one of my kids comes and gives me a big hug for no apparent reason

Futurama

The Soup (A talk show on E!)

Staying in bed until 10am

Anything from Korn (my fave rock band)

Seeing my girlfriends from high school

Fresh, hot buttery cornbread

Listening to my mp3 player while washing dishes

Helping someone

Sunny days

A beautiful sunset

Cats

Watching squirrels play and wondering what they must be thinking

Daydreaming

Writing

Spongebob Squarepants

Puppies

Walking along in the city and spotting a deer (yes, they do live in DC)

My husband’s silly jokes

Finding the shoe I want in my size

The perfect jeans

Roasted marshmallows

Chocolate

Good sex (Okay, GREAT sex!)

A clean kitchen (especially if I was not the one who cleaned it)

Peeking in on my children while they are asleep

A Joel Olsteen sermon

A Joyce Myer sermon

Eckhart Toll – Stillness Speaks

Stargazing

Learning something new

Getting my hair done

Ice-cream

A “family hug”

The full moon

In the "Nut House" - day 4

2008-10-20T14:01:00.003-04:00

About this time, I am officially ready to get out of this place!!! Two patients got into a bit of a "fight" and another guy was yelling at the nurse - calling her the "B" word because he could not go out for a cigarette break. Whatever! How am I supposed to rest in this place. Plus, the food here is awful. You will not believe what they served us for lunch today. It was fried fish only the fish was absolutely raw on the inside. Yes. I said it. RAW!!! Are they trying to kill us? And I thought the whole purpose of coming in here was to recover. I was relegated to eating the dinner roll, mixed veggies and angel food cake. After that horrific lunch, I decided retreat to my room for most of the afternoon (I was still soooo hungry) and do some crossword puzzles (which has become my favorite pastime since I've been in here). After about an hour of that, I passed out again. Thank you, Seroquel!

Around 5pm, I heard the familiar "dinner time" call from the nursing staff. It was my hope that dinner would be better than lunch. It wasn't. Actually, it was worse. I opened my meal tray and was greeted with the sight of nice broccoli florets and ziti with tomato sauce and mozzarella cheese. This would have been great but - the only problem, every thing was ice cold - as in, just taken out of the freezer ice cold! I almost cried. I picked up my tray and asked one of the nurses to heat it up for me in the staff microwave. Lucky for me, he said yes. As I waited for my food to heat up, I noticed that other patients were either eating the food or complaining about it. I decided that someone has to say something about this. I mean, just because we're "head cases" doesn't mean we should eat crap. In fact, I think we should be getting the best food in the damn hospital!

Well, later that day my doctor came to see me and I told him about the whole food situation. According to him the food has been getting worse over the years and other patients have complained to him about it. He suggested that I write a letter to the president of the hospital and that he would deliver it to him. Of course I agreed. Give me something constructive to do in this place!

Back in my room after evening "medication time" I took pen to paper and began to write. First I complemented the nursing staff -who have been wonderful. Then I got into the issues about the food and how such service communicates to the patients that we don't matter, etc. etc. I then closed it out with a request that the service be improved (I put my name and phone number on the letter too). I go back a read the whole thing just to make sure that it sounds good. "Wow, for a person under heavy psyhcotropic medication, I came up with some pretty good stuff ." I think to myself. I don't know if that's a good thing or not.:) Okay, it must be late because a nurse just stuck his head in and told me to cut out the lights and get some rest. Can you believe he is telling me, a mother of two, when to go to sleep? He just doesn't know how hard that is to do, but I'll try.

In the "dumps"

2008-10-16T10:24:00.003-04:00

Well that last few days have been pretty down for me, which would explain my hiatus of the "nut house" stories. I am adjusting to an increased dose of Cymbalta and the weening off of Lexapro and Seroquel. I guess it is sort of normal to feel in the "dumps" right now. Actually, I feel "zombie-like". I am just going through my life's routines waiting for it to pass. Hopefully it is sooner than later. I mean where is the energy, pep and excitement that I used to have? What happened to my motivation? My smile? My flat stomach? There all in the dump right now, that's where. I just want it all back again. Help!!!!

In the "nut house" - day 3

2008-10-13T14:14:00.002-04:00

By my third day in the psych ward, I am getting into the routine and feeling pretty much numb to the whole situation. When they come and knock on my door at 6:30am to take my vitals - I am ready. When they knock on my door regarding the different groups - I am ready. I don't always go, but I am ready. When the trays come with our meals - I am ready. When the nurses start yelling for a naked patient to go back into his/her room and put some clothes on - I am ready, or at least prepared. Nothing that happens in here shocks me anymore. Can you believe a man urinated right in the middle of the tv room? I could! It happened today! I just went back in my room and let the nurses handle the situation.

I find myself doing a lot of crossword puzzles and word finds since I have been here. For me, there is not much else that I want to do. They had CNN on in the tv room today and the news anchor begins to talk about a plane crash in Spain that killed over 100 people. Okay! That's enough for me to get up and go into my room. I do not watch the news, it's too depressing for me.

Later that evening, my doc comes and sees me. I tell him that I am not sleeping. "Really, even with 200mg of Seroquel?" he tells me in a very surprised tone of voice. So he ups my dosage to 300mg for the remainder of my stay. "That should help you sleep" he tells me. I sure hope so. I ask him when can I go home. He tells me it will be a few more days. Oh, God! I don't know if I can stand a few more days in here. He says it's for my own good...

It's one of those nights!

2008-10-10T21:59:00.000-04:00

I'm going to deviate right now from my "nut house" experience because I am having a "mini-nut" episode right now. Actually, I feel a bit angry and sad. Can you believe that? How is it that meds that should help for depression make you feel MORE batty than usual? I don't know, but this is seriously driving me, well, NUTS!!! I guess it's the 3 different psychotropic medicines coursing through my viens right now. Ya think? Anybody got any thoughts out there? Please let me know. Well, thats my rant for now. I'll get back to the "nut house" piece soon.

In the "nut house" - day 2

2008-10-10T11:31:00.000-04:00

I have been tossing and turning all night. Waking up seemingly every 5 minutes - so needless to say I did not get that rest that my doc was talking about. Besides, it's hard to sleep when you hear some parnoid patient yelling about how he is being robbed and otherwise mistreated by the hospital staff (which, by the way, was not true) through the paper thin walls. After breakfast and my morning dose of meds, I was able to call my boss and let her know where I was. Boy, was that an embarrassement. Yeah, hello I can't come to work today because of my debilitating depression that has put me in the hospital. Please don't think I am a crazy who can't do her job. I should be out in a few days.

Okay, so I exaggerate. For the record my boss is very understanding. I'm just hard on myself - like most of us head-cases are. So anyway, back to my day.

I attended what they call a community meeting this morning where the nurse gets us all together in the tv room to talk about any issues we may have that affect the whole floor and how we are feeling on a scale of 1 to 10. Well, today I feel like a 1. Believe it or not, some people are feeling like a 7 or 8!? Really? Hopefully I'll get there soon, but not today. It sucks being in here. People keep knocking on my door to get me to go to these groups when my doc said I needed to sleep. Will you people just leave me alone? The nurse explains to me that the groups are here to help us so that we can get on the road to going home. Okay, I can live with that. I'll try to go to more groups then.

After morning meeting, I go to my room and do some crossword puzzles. Might as well keep my mind busy so it doesn't turn into complete mush. About 30 minutes into the puzzles, I drift off again.

Upon waking up, I go out in the hallway to see if the phone is available. It is. I give my mom a call. She is so worried about me. Poor thing. I don't want her to feel like that. I convinced her that I am doing better - though in the back of my mind I still feel like going into a permanent slumber. Oh, it's lunchtime. I gotta get off the phone. Here we go with the gourmet hospital fare again. What is it today? Some green beans, rice pilaf and a dry, chicken breast with a slice of ham on top and gravy. Pretty bland. The best thing on the tray was a piece of angel food cake with raspberry sauce and whipped cream. Yummy!

One of the social workers comes into the dining area and informs us that it is time for group. Might as well do like I said and give this group thing a try. The topic for today: setting boundaries. At first, I was like what does this have to to with what I am going through? But as I listened I realized that it does. One of my issues is always trying to please everyone else and not knowing how to say no. I begin to realize this may be a big reason why I am here. I talk about this to the group (well those that were listening). I make a resolution that when I get home I am going to begin setting some boundaries (still working on that).

The rest of the day was pretty dull. After group came "siesta time" as the staff like to call it. That's when all patients are required to go into thier rooms for an hour. I couldn't sleep so I stared out the window looking at the blue sky, the clouds, the staff parking lot and the Metrobuses (wishing I could be on one to go home). I feel so down right now. I am having second thoughts as to if this is really helping. I feel guilty because while I am in here, my husband will have to deal with the kids by himself; I am missing meetings at work and; I don't have any more leave to cover me while I am out. I can't afford to be here. I am a mess. I roll up into a ball on my bed...

Later, that evening (after 6pm) my mom, aunt and daughter came to see me. I still could not see my son because he is to young to come up. They brought me a terry cloth robe and some cookies. Nice. I really wish my daughter did not have to see me in here. I kept up a good front for her. She is so sensitive right now. Anyway, after they left I spent the rest of the evening in my room. At 8:30pm I was given my meds and I went to sleep.

In the "nut house" - day 1

2008-10-09T14:44:00.000-04:00

A psych ward is an interesting place. People on all spectrums of the mental illness scale, crammed together to "recover" in harmony. You got your manic-depressives in a depressed state; your schizophrenics; your alcoholics in a depression; your manic-depressives in a manic state; your obsessive-compulsives; your confused or otherwise misdirected and then you have me - a 30 something mother of two who mentioned to her psych that "Oh by the way, I been wanting to die lately".

Well, look at where that got me; sitting in a hospital room with no tv, no phone, a crappy view of the staff parking lot and nothing to be with expect my thoughts about how I got myself in here and whether this was a good idea or not. Secuity took all of my things, my checkbook, my bank card, my earrings, my necklace (Was I gonna hang myself with that?), my mp3 player, everything and locked it up in a safe. Is this a hospital or a jail? No matter, the nurse was very prompt in delivering my first dose of Seroquel 200mg and boy was it kicking in fast. I passed out... I think my doc stopped by to see me on that first night. I'm not sure. Lights out.

The next morning, my first full day as an in-patient in the mental health unit. At 6:30am a nurse knocks on my door "vitals" he calls and cuts on the bright florescent lights as he walks in. I am so out of it, just roll over and let him take my blood pressure and temp. He leaves and cuts the lights out behind him - thank God. I am still exhausted. I drift off again. About an hour later I hear the staff knocking on patients doors and yelling "breakfast time!". Apparently, you have to get up and get your own tray. So I drag myself out of bed and mindlessly leave my room, wander down the hall to the eating area and get a tray full of yummy hospital goodness: powdered eggs, a sausage pattie and a biscuit. Tasted better than a McDonalds breakfast biscuit! I hope you get it that I am being totally sarcastic about the food - it sucked! But I still ate it anyway. During this time, I noticed the other patients that also looked like they dragged themselves out of bed to partake of this delicious meal. Everyone was dressed in the standard blue hospital gown and brown slipper socks with the treads on the bottom to keep you from falling. Nice ensemble! Some guy was talking to himself about hurting someone and another was walking around introducing himself to everyone. Like, this is some kind of social hour! Sorry,but I was not in the mood. Most were like me, quietly eating and probably wondering what turn of events got them here.

Okay, so breakfast is over and it's medication time (yay!). I get 20mg of Lexapro along with another dose of Seroquel 100mg. So this place has a schedule of meetings, groups and recreation therapy during the day - so no visitors until 6pm. What a bummer for me. I really missed my family. I was so tired the first day that I did not go to the groups at all. Just got up to eat the mediocore meals (more on that later).

I spend my waking moments anxiously awaiting visitation time so that I can see my husband. He is going to bring me some books and a pen and notepad to write with. I couldn't wait. I was able to call him once I got to the shared phone that the whole floor has to use. Once you get it, you only have 10 minutes to make your calls. This is really feeling like jail to me - not that I have ever experienced jail - but they tell you when to eat, sleep, take medication, go to group. They limit your phone time, take away the tv and your shoelaces. What's up with that? But my doc said this was the best thing for me. At least I am getting some sleep...

Going to the "nut house"

2008-10-09T13:29:00.000-04:00

Of course my first entries have to be about my time spent in the psych ward at a local hospital recently. Now, let me say - I have struggled with depression for years (since teenagehood) but this was the first time I have been put into the hospital because of it. Anyway, this latest flare up was triggered mostly by my lack of sleep (among other things). I left work in the middle of the day and showed up at my shrinks office with no appointment. I sat in the waiting room for two hours listening to U2 and Mary J. Blige's redention of "One Love" crying. I know the other people waiting thought I was nuts! Finally, I get called to see the doctor and he can see that I am a mess (watery eyes, moving slow, shaking). I told him that I feel like I am going to take my whole bottle of Ambien becuase I can't take it anymore. I am tooo stressed out and losing it! Anyway, he tells me I need to go to the hospital and aks me if I would agree to go. Well of course I agreed becuase I hadn't slept a full night in 3 weeks and wasn't thinking straight anyway. Wow, I had NO IDEA what I would be in for!