Friday, September 20, 2013

Dancing My Way Outta the Mental Hospital

This is not going to be an easy post for me to share. You can judge me if you want, but if I've learned anything in the past week, I don't even care. I am proud of what I gained from my stay. But, wish a certain person who barely knows me didn't decide to be dramatic and call 911 when I was already looking up inpatient places to go. You have NO clue what I had to endure. The COST that we are going to have to pay. But, regardless. Here it goes...

On 9/12/13 after exchanging text messages with said person: I simply tried to get her off my back. She was pestering me and I wanted to be left alone so that I could focus on finding a place to go. She sent a mutual friend to my house, I hadn't showered in days, my face was full of scars from where I had picked at my skin during my manic state and was in no mood for a visitor. So I asked her to have her leave. Thankfully minutes AFTER my Husband had left to take both of the kid to my son's Soccer practice my doorbell was being rang and my door was being pounded on. I knew that knock. The same knock I heard when I called 911 with my Dad. Before I knew it I was being escorted to my coffee table and asked to sit on my hands as they frantically searched for my medications and asked me where any weapons were located. I calmly described where the 2 bottles of medication were located and that we owned no guns. They then made me take of my wedding rings. Telling me they were sharp and a hazard. Then came the gurney. Oh yeah, another fun memory of the day my Dad commit suicide. It was all so similar. It was a ZOO! They allowed me to go upstairs (by police escort) to place my rings in a safe location and grab my cell phone, but the second I was back downstairs they strapped me down to the gurney and without any choice of mine took me to the ER.

The problem here is that I never actually threatened my life. But the person that called 911 told them that. So that is what was documented. So I was treated as someone who ATTEMPTED. Another fun thing to endure. Remember again that I was already seeking treatment. I had called my Psychiatrist, texted my Mother in Law who is a Mental Health Nurse, and had conversations with a few of my close friends. So for this person to take everything so dramatically really REALLY pisses me off. After about 10 hours in the hospital I was taken AGAIN by ambulance to a Mental Hospital in Phoenix. I was told by the Social Worker in the Hospital that it was the nicest one in AZ and that I would be there 24-72 hours. So I mentally had commit for 3 days. To my surprise, upon arrival, they had plans to keep me no shorter than 7-10 days.

7-10 days away from my kids!!?! Hell fucking no! I freaked out. I wanted to be released, and that was a whole other set of rules. If I left on my own accord, I would then be petitioned by the Doctor that had a piece of paper saying I threatened my own life, who would make me a WARD OF THE STATE and they would take me away by Police and transfer me to a State Facility for 30-90days. WOAH!!!

I spent the first 24 hours crying. I was scared, thrown to the wolves and in a MENTAL HOSPITAL! I had no resource for my Crohns Disease and was treated in the beginning by the support staff like a drug addict. They only game me the Psych meds ordered and shots to help contain my nausea. Which was constant and I lost almost 10lbs in my 6 night stay. So that is another struggle in itself.

I came to my senses, told them I would continue treatment and really gave each meeting and group my all. I participated, I listened and more importantly, I LEARNED.

I started to talk with the other patients in my ward and started realizing they were people just like I was. Mothers, Grandmothers, Wives, Sisters, Daughters that had been through hell and just got to a point where they wanted to be done with it all. Soon I started hearing from complete strangers how fun I was. What?? Fun? Me? No. Beautiful? Me? NO WAY! They filled me with so much positive energy and love that I was overwhelmed while tearfully saying goodbye to them at the end.

Regardless of HOW I got to this place, I took it for what it was and learned a ton! I have laughed and cried more in the past week than I have since 1/19/11 when I found my Father after he took his life. I was ME again. I was spunky and positive and energized. I was given tools to become a better Mother, Wife and Friend, I was also blessed with the feeling that I my Dad was so proud of me when I laid crying in my bed alone and suddenly felt fingers through my hair and a male voice in my head, one I haven't heard in 33 months telling me that I would get through this. That I was strong and that NOTHING can ever get me down.

To the person who decided to call 911, I hope next time you decide to call 911 you think of the implications of that phone call. The COST, the PAIN, and the overall shock you caused. You barely even know me. My friend had already reached out, I was already on the course. But because you called and I didn't go on my accord I am going to be left with two outrageous ambulance rides and a ER visit. There goes ALL our tax money. Thanks for that.

During treatment we got recreation time, which meant we got to go into a big room that was full of exercise equipment and a Wii with Dance Revolution and a Karaoke Machine. OH yeah! I danced daily, I sang, I danced in the hall ways with the ladies to pick up spirits, even getting the Nurses in on our random dance parties. Life handed me a lemon and I made the best damn lemonade ever. When normally it gives me heartburn :)

I met some really beautiful people who I plan to keep in contact with, and I feel proud that I sought treatment for my PTSD and anxiety issues.

I am home and healing, and have totally re-evaluated my entire life. I plan to become better than I ever thought, I plan to do more than I thought possible, and feel like the sky is the limit. I have a new lease on life. Time to dance my way through life and create new things daily and live every moment I get to the fullest!

So to the people in my life who are probably loving this entry, enjoy it. Cause it is you who lacks compassion, not me.

I plan to do everything in my power to pay it forward. Hence my honesty about where I have been the past week and why I went manic.

Since my Dad commit suicide, I never took a single day to grieve. I just kept going. So I am glad that I am finally learning to really let go of things that I never before could. It's a blessing. Another round of lemonade anyone?

If you are struggling, I highly suggest seeking treatment. Regardless if it is outpatient or inpatient. If you are stuck in bed for days, if you feel helpless or invisible. YOU AREN'T!!! You are just in a rut and there IS a way out! I promise! It's totally worth it!!