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Saturday, April 30, 2016
Miss Molly Mack
I told no one that I had been hearing a voice other than my own in my head since before my first suicide attempt. I thought they would think I am crazy, which is rather ironic, The voice continually told me I was unworthy, unloved, unimportant and that life would be better for everyone if I just killed myself. It was like listening to a CD on repeat 24/7. At the hospital after the second attempt I confessed to the doctor about the voice (Once I knew I could trust him). He said it would take a combination of medications and work on my part to get rid of the voice. Positive thinking, meditation, writing, etc. were all encouraged. I decided that since I argued with this voice often enough it needed a name. I went with Molly because it seemed to be a less harsh name. It turns out that the name Molly means bitter. Very appropriate! The best news of all is that Molly has been put on mute!!
Mars, Venus, Where the Hell am I
When I arrived at the psychiatric hospital I first they had taken me to a jail instead. It certainly looked like one. inside was a completely empty room to wait in. The paramedics stayed with me at this point. I was wanded for metal and then moved to a room with a few traditional medical items. It was at this point that I signed myself in. Signing your self in means you can request a discharge and the doctors will reach a solution. If they feel you need to stay they will get a court mandate. If you have a mandate you cannot refuse any treatment proposed by the doctor. Since I like to have the right to Say 'no!" like a two year old I chose to be voluntary. I was sent up to the fourth floor, what I so lovingly call Dante's Inferno. I was strip searched and given hospital 'clothing" to put on (mesh underwear, disposable blue pants and two gowns (one served as a gown, the other a robe). I did not have either of my wheelchairs with me so I had to use what looked like a 1970s ghetto wheelchair. Add in the yellow no slip socks and i was hot. :)
There are four floors to the building i was in. the forth floor held the crisis unit (think of running around yelling i can fly tinkerbelle!) an the fourth floor unit. It was very convenient as patients bounced in and out of the crisis unit. These were the adults that could not stop responding to the voiced they heard, who tended to be aggressive, and as a whole seemed unmotivated to change. In line for breakfast there was a patient enraged He started throwing chair and somehow just missed me.
Knowing there were people with homicidal ideation and even plans was enough to keep me awake all night. i was rescued by my psychiatrist said that was the wrong placement for me. As soon as a bed was available I would transfer down to the first floor. That unit was calm, friendly, and real. There were few instances of arguments.
Now before I make this sound too good here, we hqd MHAs who checked on us (yes, some even in the shower), a routine that stqrted with groups ,we were awoken qt 7;45 and all made a mad scramble for the coffee. crappy decaf but it was coffee. I cannot wait to try the new biggby by our house thqt was built this winter while I was done.
I was quiet, observing, and trying to figure out the people around me. To my psychiatrist I was withdrawing, isolating, and socially inappropriate. SIR, my normal may look a lot different than your normal but that is not a psychological problem. . the major depression qnd fun little voice screaming at me in my heqd provided plenty of entertainment.
There are four floors to the building i was in. the forth floor held the crisis unit (think of running around yelling i can fly tinkerbelle!) an the fourth floor unit. It was very convenient as patients bounced in and out of the crisis unit. These were the adults that could not stop responding to the voiced they heard, who tended to be aggressive, and as a whole seemed unmotivated to change. In line for breakfast there was a patient enraged He started throwing chair and somehow just missed me.
Knowing there were people with homicidal ideation and even plans was enough to keep me awake all night. i was rescued by my psychiatrist said that was the wrong placement for me. As soon as a bed was available I would transfer down to the first floor. That unit was calm, friendly, and real. There were few instances of arguments.
Now before I make this sound too good here, we hqd MHAs who checked on us (yes, some even in the shower), a routine that stqrted with groups ,we were awoken qt 7;45 and all made a mad scramble for the coffee. crappy decaf but it was coffee. I cannot wait to try the new biggby by our house thqt was built this winter while I was done.
I was quiet, observing, and trying to figure out the people around me. To my psychiatrist I was withdrawing, isolating, and socially inappropriate. SIR, my normal may look a lot different than your normal but that is not a psychological problem. . the major depression qnd fun little voice screaming at me in my heqd provided plenty of entertainment.
Friday, April 29, 2016
Simon says
I always knew that this would be a journal of the different perspectives of life that I experience. It is my view of the world through experiences others may never have. My perspective on something major has changed and I will be sharing about this journey for a while, but let me start at the beginning.
I ignored the warning signs that I was depressed. I justified them. I ignored them. Obviously this is not the best response to take. At the time I was overwhelmed with the many health issues in my life and the fear that it will just continue to decline. We were also facing eviction from our apartment and had searched literally every resource we could. I began to think that Mom's life would be easier without me, that no one would notice or care, and that I could escape the pain. There was a voice in my head telling me I needed to die, that I was worthless, that no one loved me. So impulsively one night I took a bottle of coumadin, a blood thinner used in rat poisons. I then panicked and told Mom what I had done. I stayed in the hospital as a medical patient for 5 days but received no psychological treatment because they felt it was a one time illness. When I got home I began to research which of my medications would be more effective yet not painful. The same voice was almost constantly present telling me how worthless I was and how suicide was the only answer. Almost 2 weeks later to the day I attempted suicide again by taking a bottle of my cardiac medicine. I tried to hide it from Mom but one thing I cannot do is lie to her. I ended up spending all night in the emergency room as they monitored my blood pressure and heart rate. A whole bottle and neither level ever moved. God protected me for some reason. That afternoon they finally found an open bed in a psychiatric hospital, as the need is greater than the supply, and I was transferred to Detroit. I ended up spending a month there in treatment, mostly adjusting medications as we had to go slowly and carefully with my medical issues. I was diagnosed as Bipolar I with psychosis and Anxiety Disorder. I am now on 8 different medications to control everything.
This has been my worst nightmare. I could always handle whatever my body did but to have it interfere with my brain was something I could not imagine. I feel like my brain is floating in chemicals making it harder to think clearly and communicate what I want to say.
I will be writing more about my experiences from the other patients (Names changed for privacy) to medical staff to what I have learned. All I ask is that you please do not judge me as my diagnosis. I am still the same person I was before this happened and I am the same now, a little quieter but also a little wiser.
I ignored the warning signs that I was depressed. I justified them. I ignored them. Obviously this is not the best response to take. At the time I was overwhelmed with the many health issues in my life and the fear that it will just continue to decline. We were also facing eviction from our apartment and had searched literally every resource we could. I began to think that Mom's life would be easier without me, that no one would notice or care, and that I could escape the pain. There was a voice in my head telling me I needed to die, that I was worthless, that no one loved me. So impulsively one night I took a bottle of coumadin, a blood thinner used in rat poisons. I then panicked and told Mom what I had done. I stayed in the hospital as a medical patient for 5 days but received no psychological treatment because they felt it was a one time illness. When I got home I began to research which of my medications would be more effective yet not painful. The same voice was almost constantly present telling me how worthless I was and how suicide was the only answer. Almost 2 weeks later to the day I attempted suicide again by taking a bottle of my cardiac medicine. I tried to hide it from Mom but one thing I cannot do is lie to her. I ended up spending all night in the emergency room as they monitored my blood pressure and heart rate. A whole bottle and neither level ever moved. God protected me for some reason. That afternoon they finally found an open bed in a psychiatric hospital, as the need is greater than the supply, and I was transferred to Detroit. I ended up spending a month there in treatment, mostly adjusting medications as we had to go slowly and carefully with my medical issues. I was diagnosed as Bipolar I with psychosis and Anxiety Disorder. I am now on 8 different medications to control everything.
This has been my worst nightmare. I could always handle whatever my body did but to have it interfere with my brain was something I could not imagine. I feel like my brain is floating in chemicals making it harder to think clearly and communicate what I want to say.
I will be writing more about my experiences from the other patients (Names changed for privacy) to medical staff to what I have learned. All I ask is that you please do not judge me as my diagnosis. I am still the same person I was before this happened and I am the same now, a little quieter but also a little wiser.
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