This time last year, I had just emerged from a two-month stay in a psychiatric hospital for severe depression and anxiety. I was glad to get out of there, to finally get back to my small son who had been staying with my mother. I didn't share the other patients' apprehension over leaving the safety of the hospital and returning to the real world, because my heart ached for him so much. I was also heavily medicated with mood stabilisers, anti-depressants, sedatives and anti-psychotics, all of which left me feeling dazed and yet strangely lucid. Somehow I took going home in my stride. I felt ready.
From the hospital I went straight back to my mother's house. I never returned to the lovely flat I had been renting for my son and me nearby in the months before I was hospitalised. Luckily, my mother took on the entire process of moving us out of there and handling everything with the estate agents and the landlady. I was and still am hugely grateful to her for this, as I would not have been able to cope with the logistics. All I did for the next two months was to sleep, go to SLAA meetings (more on that will follow) with my hospital friend Marilyn, and to spend time with my son.
I certainly have gaps in my memory of that time, undoubtedly because of the high doses of medication I was on. When at home without my son, I would always go to bed, tired or not. I would lie there with my eyes closed and think, half-dreaming, or I would just sleep.
I realised at the time that I was somehow reconfiguring on the inside, and just allowed it to happen. It was in some ways a very dynamic time too. Every SLAA meeting would throw up a whole host of realisations about my past behaviour and events in my life. I was reading books on issues including co-dependency, abuse, problems with intimacy and psychological disorders, which also gave me an incredible rollercoaster ride of insights and education about myself and others. I will set up a reading list for those who are interested.
I was also doing individual therapy, which I still continue with today. I barely remember anything from the sessions around that time, but I know they were a lifeline. I do recall time and space stretching oddly before my eyes as we talked, it was as if someone was pulling the scene apart like chewing gum, distorting my therapist's face and the wall behind him. It felt a little like being in a trance, trapped between the past, the present and some other layer of unreality.
When I told my therapist this, he did not seem surprised. In fact he is rarely surprised, not even at my most outlandish imaginings and feelings.
Those weeks after leaving the hospital I also frequently met up with my closest friends. We had always been big talkers in each others' company, but now I felt freed and able to talk to them at a new level of honesty - simply because I understood myself better. It was so good to feel their love for me and to express my love for them. I also forged a strong bond with Marilyn during this time. I will write more about her later too.
I have many hopes for this blog, mainly that those reading it can find parts of themselves in my experiences and be comforted or on some level informed by them. I don't know how systematic I will be - I may hop between the past and the present, or deal with certain topics related to recovery. There is much to talk about. I will also burden you with some of my poetry once in a while, because it's something that I do and want to share.
Thank your for reading.
Rosamunde (not my real name)
From the hospital I went straight back to my mother's house. I never returned to the lovely flat I had been renting for my son and me nearby in the months before I was hospitalised. Luckily, my mother took on the entire process of moving us out of there and handling everything with the estate agents and the landlady. I was and still am hugely grateful to her for this, as I would not have been able to cope with the logistics. All I did for the next two months was to sleep, go to SLAA meetings (more on that will follow) with my hospital friend Marilyn, and to spend time with my son.
I certainly have gaps in my memory of that time, undoubtedly because of the high doses of medication I was on. When at home without my son, I would always go to bed, tired or not. I would lie there with my eyes closed and think, half-dreaming, or I would just sleep.
I realised at the time that I was somehow reconfiguring on the inside, and just allowed it to happen. It was in some ways a very dynamic time too. Every SLAA meeting would throw up a whole host of realisations about my past behaviour and events in my life. I was reading books on issues including co-dependency, abuse, problems with intimacy and psychological disorders, which also gave me an incredible rollercoaster ride of insights and education about myself and others. I will set up a reading list for those who are interested.
I was also doing individual therapy, which I still continue with today. I barely remember anything from the sessions around that time, but I know they were a lifeline. I do recall time and space stretching oddly before my eyes as we talked, it was as if someone was pulling the scene apart like chewing gum, distorting my therapist's face and the wall behind him. It felt a little like being in a trance, trapped between the past, the present and some other layer of unreality.
When I told my therapist this, he did not seem surprised. In fact he is rarely surprised, not even at my most outlandish imaginings and feelings.
Those weeks after leaving the hospital I also frequently met up with my closest friends. We had always been big talkers in each others' company, but now I felt freed and able to talk to them at a new level of honesty - simply because I understood myself better. It was so good to feel their love for me and to express my love for them. I also forged a strong bond with Marilyn during this time. I will write more about her later too.
I have many hopes for this blog, mainly that those reading it can find parts of themselves in my experiences and be comforted or on some level informed by them. I don't know how systematic I will be - I may hop between the past and the present, or deal with certain topics related to recovery. There is much to talk about. I will also burden you with some of my poetry once in a while, because it's something that I do and want to share.
Thank your for reading.
Rosamunde (not my real name)
No comments:
Post a Comment