New year, new me.

 11/25/22

I skipped the first page, I’m not entirely sure why.  This is such a mindfuck, my current situation.  I’m writing in this beautiful journal that my husband brought me, with a pen that I hate writing with.  It’s the only pen I can use, only style anyway.  Regular pens are “contraband.”

Am I in prison?  No.  I’m a patient at Sierra Vista Hospital.  It is a locked down facility, and there are cameras everywhere.  For all I know, someone could be watching me while I write.

Anyway, I’m still not entirely sure how I ended up here.  I guess I had a panic attack that escalated, and I was acting out of character? All I remember is having difficulty sleeping, trying to talk to Michael, and suddenly, he was driving us to Kaiser ER.  (Present Michelle adding that he did the right thing by getting me the help I needed, and I thank him for that.)

I’ve gone through such a whirlwind of emotions through all of this.  I have been so confused.  The hours and days all kind of meld together.

When I was still at Kaiser, I got to a point where I thought I must have done something truly horrible.  I don’t want to put it in writing, but basically, I feared the absolute worst.  I’m so glad to know that that did not happen.  As far as I know, my husband and baby are alive and well.

I have so much anger around being stuck in here, away from them.  It is breaking my heart.  Every morning, I’ve been waking up thinking, this is it!  Today must be the day! But alas, it is not.  Seems like the best I can hope for is to go home on Monday.  Today is Friday.  So, looks like home on 11/28 if all goes well?

I just really want to get home ASAP.  I’ve been away from my family for too long.

11/26/22

                Here I am, sometime after 3 PM and before 4.  It is quiet time here at Sierra Vista.  I woke up early this morning, just before 6 AM.  I tried to rest/sleep a little longer, but finally just got up and started my day.

                I’m trying to commit to my life here.  Feels like I’m just going through the motions, but I do see the benefit in it.  In being here.  Kinda… haha.

                I took a full shower this morning, washed my hair and everything.  I had been putting it off, thinking surely, I would be home before I needed to wash my hair.  But, alas, that did not happen.

                I ate breakfast and lunch in the day room.  I went to both groups this morning.  I went outside when it was time, and I talked to a few different people.

                Reaching out and talking to people here is especially difficult for me, because it really does feel like they’re all “in on it.”  Like I’m the main character in this social experiment.  And no matter to whom I try to tell my theory, nothing changes.  So now I’m trying to just acquiesce to my role here, and better myself.  But I already feel great, I just need to see my husband.

              

I’m back, same date.

I feel so frustrated.  I was reading this book, “Illusions” by Richard Bach.  It was a quick read, and it really felt relevant to my current situation.  As soon as I finished it, literally the moment that I closed the book, the on-call doctor wanted to talk to me.  He said I’m doing great, but our conversation was over as soon as I brought up getting discharged.  Because, apparently, nobody else can discharge me but Dr. Lepler.  Not even myself.  So much for the notion that I am my own master, that I am responsible for myself.  Ugh, just so frustrating.

I ate dinner in the small day room, with my roommate and another patient.  I was trying to socialize, but I was having a hard time focusing.

I’m so tired of this.  It still feels like some cruel joke, like a game, and I’m ready for it to be over so I can go home.  I would even drive myself home in the dark if they would let me, that is how ready I am. (I don’t like driving in the dark, it is hard for me to see.)

I wanted to call my brother or Michael, but the phone was tied up.  Maybe it’s free now…

11/27/22

                Humble pie.  That is what I needed, and what I got, being here.  I have lost my in-the-moment vision, but I’m working on it.  Sharpening it.  I have been sooooo caught up in the idea that all I need is my husband, my son, my family.  I NEED them and they NEED me, right?  So, then, why the fuck am I here?

                I’m at a point where I understand the why and how as much as possible without talking face to face with my husband, and I am ok with that.  Because, ultimately, they (the why and how) don’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

                The bitter pill that I’ve finally swallowed is the realization that I have been leaning on my husband too much for my own sake.  And most likely, for his sake, too.  But I AM the one who matters more to me, and right now, I need to focus on myself, away from them.  As difficult and as backwards as it seems, I finally realized it as truth.

                It does still feel like I’m stuck in some sort of game.  Like everyone is somehow here for me.  The conversations I hear, and even the movies and shows on the TV, just feel too relevant.  But that can’t be, right?  And, even if it is, I need to just focus on bettering myself.

 

Present Michelle writing now, I transcribed some of the notes from my time at Sierra Vista.  The bolding effect of “everyone is somehow here for me” was added by present me.  Past me meant it as the delusional thought that I was stuck in a simulation but present me is recognizing it as the truth.  I have so many people in my corner, supporting me, I just have a very hard time asking for help when I need it.

I cringe a bit as I read the words from my past self.  I was incredibly confused by my situation, and I was literally delusional.  I belonged there, in a mental hospital, and at the time I did not understand why.  I now understand why, and I would like to enlighten whoever is reading this.

I have multiple mental health diagnoses.  I was diagnosed with ADHD toward the end of last year, and I was prescribed Adderall.  I was also taking Zoloft for depression.  However, what I did not know, was that I don’t have depression, I have bipolar disorder.  Being on Adderall without also being on a mood stabilizer sent me into a manic episode complete with psychosis.  But wait, there’s more!  Another thing I’ve learned since my release from the hospital is that I also have OCD.

I’ve been wanting to share my story, to put myself out there, in the hopes that it can help even one person.  Also, selfishly, I’m doing this for me.  I am not ashamed of my diagnoses, nor of my time in the mental hospital.  I am who I am, and I am proud.  My diagnoses do not define me, but they do shape who I am.  I’m not looking for judgment or pity, I’m just looking for acceptance.  I accept myself enough to know that sharing my story will help me, and that is enough for me.