I haven’t blogged in 3 months. When last we met, I had recently been released from the local inpatient unit where I have always gone for treatment. While there, I ran into one of my former clients, and the on-call therapist who had admitted me didn’t seem to care.
Fast forward to October and my former employment was suddenly a problem. I went for so many emergency assessments and kept being sent home. At one point I ran away during an assessment and was certain the police were chasing me. My mom took me back, but after a long wait, when they were just about to admit me, the receptionist butted in to say I was supposed to call a facility 2 hours from home for a phone assessment so they could transfer me there. Ages later, that place hadn’t returned my call and mom stormed out, taking me with her.
Not long after that I overdosed on 3 days worth of my meds plus a handful of Valium. I was not conscious enough to know what I was doing when I signed paperwork in the ER and agreed unwittingly to go to a facility 1.5 hours from home. It was much like I imagine prison life, and I mainly got through it because Bree was there too. I put in my mandatory 5 days and was offered a choice between going home and checking myself in. Obviously I went home. The only benefit to that facility was that my aunt and uncle lived nearby.
The next month was October. Sadie wanted me back in the hospital and this time I was prepared to choose one for myself. I went to a very well-known and well-respected facility in the next state, less than an hour from home, and it was a great and helpful place. However, I was discharged as soon as I rated my depression a zero one day. I know my moods don’t work that way, but I didn’t argue because I had a wedding and an honor society induction that I didn’t want to miss.
When I admitted to Sadie that I had left too early she sent me back. My moods were all over the place. I ran away from the ER while waiting for transport, so they took away my clothes. I came down with a nasty cold the day of my admission and I was badly behaved while there. I’m so ashamed of how I acted and the fact that I left too soon again and turned down the follow-up treatment I was offered. It was hard to be both mentally and physically ill at once.
I managed to complete 7 of my 12 credit hours without losing my 4.0 GPA. The other professor gave me an incomplete and I have until the end of Spring semester to finish.
Lately all I’ve done is wish I were back in the hospital. The last time the on-call therapist arranged a transfer for me she said, “We have to break the cycle of you taking up a hospital bed every time you want to run away from your life.” It hurt a lot and was the reason I ran away from the ER. My irrational brain twisted that into thinking someone else would die if I took that bed.
I have an appointment with Sierra tomorrow since Sadie is on vacation and I really don’t know what to expect. I run from my life but I also run from treatment and Sadie has no idea what to do with me anymore.