One Year Ago (in 2 Days)

One year ago, in two more days, I was hospitalized for my depression. I was suicidal. I had a plan. I was going to take all the pills in the house, drink a bottle of alcohol, and die in my bed with a note that said I was sorry.

I was going to die. I was ready to die. I was sorry that I couldn’t make everyone happy, let alone make myself happy. I was sorry for everything and sorry that I couldn’t make it right.

But I told my counselor. I told someone what I was going to do. And they suggested hospitalization. I cried, for the entire hour I was there. I cried on the way home. I cried while packing. I cried to my best friend. I cried on the way to the clinic to get assessed, and on the way to the hospital. I was scared and worried. But my husband reassured me that this is what would be good for me to do. It wasn’t to harm me, it was to help me.

So, I got to the hospital. Intake took forever. But, Justin was there with me and was calming me, holding my hand and loving me and all my shortcomings. He was my rock when I was in the storm.

The hospital was fine. The first night was scary. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. They strip-searched me, which was scary and embarrassing, but I didn’t have to do the “squat and cough” thing, because, fortunately for me, I was on my period at the time. I got settled into my room and fell asleep.

The week to follow was great actually. I was pretty much stress free. I saw a doctor everyday and attended group therapy, which was really more of a joke than anything. I was able to call everyone everyday. I missed my friends and family though. I was able to see people Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday.

I guess I knew then that things weren’t right at home. I was gone for a week and I knew that Justin was up to god knows what. We didn’t have much trust, but I was hoping that this was his wake up call. When I got back home, I wasn’t so depressed, until it came time for me to go back to work.

Work was a major stressor. I had panic attacks before and during work. The last night that I worked, I panicked and went home an hour after being there. Justin was pissed that I left early, I was just glad that I was able to go home.

I should have known then that things were different. That things weren’t the same at all, everything was a mess in my marriage. But I looked over it with the thought that he was just stressed out because of my episodes. I never realized how he really felt, because he kept everything so deep down inside of himself. When I asked him if he wanted out, he had said no. We lived like this for months.

It’s crazy how much can change in a year. I was diagnosed with Major Depressive disorder and PTSD in the hospital. My diagnosis has changed to Bipolar II disorder, Borderline personality disorder, and PTSD. I’m getting my medications checked on monthly, I’m attending therapy with my case manager Lisa, and I’m sleeping when my body tells me I’m tired. I am blogging more, whether it’s on here or on my Facebook page. I’m talking to people. I’m taking baby-steps to get back where I was. I’m making huge strides in becoming more self-aware. I am learning what I can handle and what I can’t, learning to put up boundaries for myself and my sanity. I’m learning to take better care of myself, like showering daily (yes, I know that sounds stupid) and washing my face each night. I’m learning to let things go. I’m learning what I want in life.

I’m doing a lot for myself. And I’m taking this time to reflect on my time in the hospital and all the trials that led up to that point. I’m visiting this moment with the knowledge that I am no longer that person that I was a year ago and that’s OK. I realize that I was in a down swing, and it’s ok to have those moments and that I will have more of those moments in the future. The goal is to let those moments pass and know that the sun will rise through the darkest night. I realize that my marriage falling apart wasn’t my fault, and that I did everything I was supposed to. It’s ok to visit these moments and reflect on what they offer, and then we need to move on.

My problem is the moving on part. While I realize it does no good to dwell on the past, my heart is still broken over these events. Eventually, with therapy and support from those I love, I will be able to turn the page from this chapter of my life and move on to the next. I have some faith and hope that things will turn around for me in the future. That I will find the one I’m supposed to be with and love with all my heart. Justin was not a good man for me. And that’s ok that I learned that lesson.

A year ago, I was a different person. It’s time to turn the page.

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About Preslee

I am diagnosed with Bipolar 2 Disorder, Borderline Personality Disorder, Panic and Anxiety disorders, and PTSD. I write about my own personal experiences and thoughts.

Posted on July 7, 2014, in Life, Mental Health and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. You are one fucking crazy bitch. I can see why he left your ass.

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