It is so easy for us to run through life at a million miles an hour. I mean, can you believe it is September? Where did the summer go? Hopefully you made some great memories, dear reader. But sometimes we run to fast and mania settles into our minds like sand in our shoes. Sometimes this leads to a stay in the hospital, in the psych ward. This is just a break from life as uncomfortable as it may be. Please do not think of it as a punishment because it is not. It is a place for us to rest and get better before being spit out into your day to day life again. This is true for depression as well. Sometimes the safest place for us to be is in the hospital taking a break because the staff are there to make sure we survive each day and night.
I know what it is like to be in a psych ward. I have been in four and they were all very different. At one we made pizza, another we spent the days watching television, coloring interest us, group therapy. Everywhere we go it is different. I have been in one place or another from coast to coast. There is no magic place to “fix” us. It is just a blip in the grand scheme of things, but it can be life saving.
Recently, I have been out of sorts. It started with some medication changes. Four at once (I saw a physician assistant at the practice as well as my psych doctor). I saw the physician assistant and was horribly depressed – crying all the time, feeling sad and empty. She meant well. Later the next week it started to affect me and once again I became severely confused. My mom told me to get stuff for a FEW days and hitch up the ponies ( my two big dogs). She came and picked me up. I forgot a lot of this and she told me what happened. As I mentioned in another post, I could not feed myself with utensils. By the time I saw the doctor a few days later, he said I was clearly overmedicated and that I looked like a “zombie.” Because my mom had picked me up, I still didn’t have my car. Regardless, no driving for me, doctor’s orders. He reduced some of my medication dosages.
This went on for the SIX WEEKS I spent with my parents. Somehow a FEW days multiplied and multiplied. They had a guest room. The let me take my daily nap and eat their food. I tried to stick to my sleep schedule. They took me to all my appointments. My poor mother got tired of driving me.
Today I returned home. I drove my own car. I feel well enough to be at home again with my two protective dogs. I just needed a break. I am lucky I have parents who care about me and they live in the country which is relaxing too. We can take breaks outside of the hospital if we have someone who can be responsible for our safety, like in my situation. Taking breaks does not allow for us to miss our appointments, they are paramount. We must still take our medications and follow the doctor’s orders.
I wish we did not need these types of breaks because it means we are a bit broken, and that is okay because a break can put our pieces back together again. Think of beautiful stained glass. It is made up of broken pieces of glass. That is how we are – beautiful.