Gotta Go Insane To Stay Sane.

Mental Health Awareness

One of my favorite groups has a song out and one of the lyrics is “gotta go insane to stay sane”. Those words I can relate to and I agree with them.

It’s been almost two years since I was admitted into the psychiatric ward of a local hospital and stayed six days. Even though I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression at the age of 24 I have never had to be admitted into the hospital until July of 2018 at the age of 44.

What’s odd is when I look back now I can see it, the downward spiral. For weeks I had been spiraling down a very dark rabbit hole. I knew something wasn’t right. I didn’t feel well and I was having trouble just functioning in my daily life. The anxiety and depression had paralyzed me. I couldn’t eat — resulting in losing 13 lbs. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t even make myself take a bath daily. I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t brush my teeth. It’s like I forgot how to live and I was just waiting for death. I can remember feeling so confused. So confused.

It was a Sunday. I thought I was going to die. I don’t think I was going to hurt myself. I just knew something was way off in my head. I went to my spouse and asked him to help me. I told him that something wasn’t right and I needed help. I should mention that this is the man I’m almost divorced from and I was still living with while in the process of moving in with my partner. His answer was for us to take a walk. That was his answer to most things. Said walk did nothing for me.

When we got back I jumped in my bathtub and sent a text to a good friend of mine who knows all the warning signs, who had been checking on me for weeks trying to get me to reach out for professional help, that I felt like I’m dying. She was worried about me and honestly, I was worried about me too. She had been trying to get me to call Mobile Crisis. I thought it would be overreacting. I wasn’t “that bad” off.

Then I realized I was.

I needed help.

After I got out of my bath I called the crisis number she had texted me where I left my name, number, and why I was calling. I can remember sitting on my bathroom floor crying waiting for my cell to ring. Someone called right back and asked for directions to my home. Mobile Crisis arrived within the hour. She was a lovely woman. We spoke for two hours on my front porch. She helped me tell my spouse that it was best for me to seek medical help. She made a few calls and had me tell my children that I had to go away for a few days to get better and to gather a few things.

She drove me to the hospital and waited while I was admitted to the psychiatric ward for women only.

For the first time in a long time, I felt hope. I was going to live.

During my six days in the hospital, it was decided to get me back on some medicine since I had been recently weaned off my medication, which is a whole other story in itself.

While in the hospital I went to group therapy. Slept a lot. Wrote a lot.

The nameless ladies, I didn’t remember their names to keep their anonymity, that I have bared my soul to were incredible. The stories we shared — our stories of loss, grief, sadness, depression, and anxiety — stories all too familiar to us — that being our bond.

I feel that no matter where each of us goes we will carry a little bit of each other with us. Thoughts that we are not alone in our struggles. We are strong women.

During this hospital stay, I could feel a little bit of myself coming back. I can remember taking my first shower a day or two after being admitted and smiling. I was enjoying my bath time again.

I missed my children terribly and just wanted to get home even if it meant going to my old home where my spouse lives to recover.

A lot has changed in almost two years. After being discharged from the hospital I moved back to my house so I could recover and be with my children. It took me three months to even see my partner again. I was too scared for him to see me that way. I had withered away to 120 pounds and found eating impossible. I was dying.

It took me a long time to feel better. I spent a lot of time in bed after getting out of the hospital. I still wasn’t taking a shower or brushing my teeth. I wasn’t even changing my clothes. I had pretty much given up on life.

I was lost.

I couldn’t remember who the fuck I was.

I was seeing an amazing mental health therapist a couple of times a week but we could only go so far because she couldn’t prescribe my medications. My family doctor was doing my refills since being released from the hospital until I found a new psychiatrist that I liked. My therapist helped me so much until I met this incredible woman who was a psychiatric nurse practitioner. Not only could she take over my medications but I could talk to her. She gave me a safe space to bare everything. I crawled and fought my way back to the land of the living. It was breath by breath, minute by minute. Two steps forward, ten steps back. She did a gene study and started working with my medications. I was having a hard time finding the right medication or cocktail of different medications.

Things started to look up for me. I was finding my strength. I was remembering who I was again. I was remembering the life changes that I wanted to make. I remembered that strong woman who wanted to make huge life changes. People were going to be hurt. It was going to hurt me. My children. I was terrified.

For me to recover and get my life where I wanted it to be I moved out of that house and in with my partner. It made things a little more difficult for me with my spouse and all but there’s nowhere I’d have rather been. I needed my partner during that time of my life. I need His strength and His love.

Recovery has been good. Recovery is actually going really well. My good days outweigh my bad days these days. I smile a lot more. I laugh a lot more. I have been living with my partner for almost fifteen months. He’s been a very compassionate partner when it comes to my mental hiccups and He’s very supportive of the decisions I make. He holds me if I go through a medicine change. He holds me when I need that extra love. He runs and gets me a milkshake to make sure I get something in me. I just can’t express how amazing and how helpful He has been during all of this.

So, the song lyrics speak to me.

Gotta go insane to stay sane.

I’ve been there. Below the bottom. To feel out of control and feel insane. So now that I am in a good “sane” place I know the work it takes to stay here. I never want to go back there ever again. I try to stay on top of things and reach out to my psychiatric NP when I notice things are off. We have a very open line of communication and I know that she is always there for me.

I remember wondering how does one come back after a psychiatric hospital stay? I wondered how people would see me? Would I be some statistic? I am so open with my mental health and I want to bring more awareness to mental health because I don’t want anyone to be ashamed if they have depression and anxiety.

I share this with you, because even if it helps one person, even if that’s just me, then that’s progress.

I’ve come a long way baby.

The song lyric is from On by BTS.

Yes, I love K-Pop.