As I have spoken of the events of the previous 2 years, you haven't heard me speak of my mom. My mother is living and is 76 years old. She doesn't know of anything that has transpired in my life during the last 2 years. She has Alzheimers. There have been many times during the past several months that I longed for my mom's arms to cradle me, for her to hold me and cry with me. But to tell you the truth, our relationship changed drastically long before her illness began. As I have continued through the healing process, my heart has broken for my mom. I have come to some realizations that have opened my eyes to truth that I'm not certain I can fully reconcile.
I go to the nursing home to see my mom. My visits have felt different the past couple of months. I look at her in a different way. I sit with her, I hold her hand, and I cry. I stare at her and wish I could speak words that her broken mind could understand. If only I had known then what I know now. I long to tell her that I get it....I understand what happened to her....that I'm so sorry that I stopped believing in her.....that I fully grasp the shame that follows hurting those you love and the confusion that takes over your mind, causing you to act like you would not normally act....to do things that are out of character for you. I wish I could ask her to forgive me.
She was 48 years old and began to display an unusual sense of insecurity about her. She seemed to need constant approval from others. Her personality was changing before our eyes. I was in high school and remember vividly telling one of my friends, "I think my mom is going crazy. She must be going through the change." Over the next year, my mom found the security she was missing in another man's arms. During that time, her strange behavior drove not only her family but all of her friends away. At the end of that year, she found herself divorced, alone, and scared. I became a newlywed the same month that her and my dad divorced. She was at our house almost daily, crying and asking for our help. She had lost everything and everyone around her and she had no one to blame but herself. She found herself living in a run-down apartment, dating random men from every walk of life. Although I tried not to turn my back on her, she continued to make decisions that were driving her children further away. I was disgusted at the woman she had seemingly turned into overnight.
Several years went by and my mother lived a life of self-condemnation that was destroying her. She no longer resembled the mother that had raised me and taught me the ways of the Lord. My brothers and I met with her and told her that we forgive her and told her it was time for her to forgive herself. Although I truly believe she wanted to do just that, I don't think the shame of what her life had become would ever allow her that grace.
I have no doubt that at the age of 48 years, my mother was in fact going through "the change" and that her hormones were completely out of control. I see a familiar trend of her personality changes. Perhaps all she needed was a little hormone replacement therapy. Perhaps she needed some professional counseling. Perhaps she needed her family to refuse to give up on her. Perhaps she needed her daughter to look her in the eyes and tell her 'This isn't you, mom. I know who you are and this isn't you. I believe in you and I'm not leaving you'. Perhaps she needed others to gather around her in prayer and support....rather than leaving her on the battlefield by herself, wounded and dying. My mom lost everything that was precious to her. She lost her marriage of 25 years, she lost her family, every one of her friends, the respect of others, and she lost her dignity. She was battling a hormonal imbalance and depression and no one stayed on the battlefield and fought for her.....not even her daughter. Even though she made some very poor choices during her struggle, my heart will forever ache over the fact that I left her to face her consequences alone.
So I look at her, I hold her hand, and I cry. She just grins at me. She has no idea that we have shared the same path, at a different time and a different place, but we walked the same road. Her sweet, gentle spirit doesn't feel the pain of rejection anymore. She feels no shame. For that I am thankful. I love you, momma. I love you.
Chapter 26
The day I left the nuthouse, the psychiatrist highly recommend that I go to an outpatient day treatment program. They called and set me up to start that week. I would be required to go Monday through Friday, 8am-4pm. I was reluctant to go. I just wanted to put the 'event' behind me and move on. Although the group sessions helped tremendously while inpatient, I was tired of talking about it. The last thing I wanted to do is to hash and rehash the same stuff for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. I showed up on Monday morning and by noon had decided this was not for me. I felt I had gotten the help I needed and was ready to go back to work, teach the students, and get into a routine again. I called after lunch break and told them I wouldn't be returning. I met with my fellow teacher, NP later that afternoon for coffee. She was troubled to hear that I was determined not to go back to the sessions. Although I had only known NP for a few months, we became very close, very quickly. We both had a passion for nursing and a passion for teaching that created a bond in a short amount of time. The night I decided to end it all, I received a text from her while I sat in the ER that said, "I'm on my way." Mark had called to let her know what had taken place. I replied with, "I'm so sorry, N. You don't have to come." Her reply? "That's what friends do." This was particularly touching because, you see, NP's best friend had committed suicide ten years earlier. For the next week, I was blown away by her support to me while in the facility. I told her, "I understand if you need to be colleagues only and not friends. I get that." She said, "Absolutely not, Kim. I love and care about you. I'm here for you." Wow. But her tone changed when I told her that I would not be returning to the day treatment program. Doesn't she see that I'm much better? Doesn't she understand that it was just hormones? Before the conversation ended, I told her that I would return the next day and continue with the program. I didn't do it. From that point on, our relationship changed. Let me say something loud and strong here to anyone that is suffering from depression or any other emotional or mental issue. Even if you feel that you are 'better' and out of danger.....you not only owe it to yourself, but you owe it to everyone that has stood beside you to get ALL of the help you can get. Even though I felt better, I was not in a position to make that decision. My friend NP had been touched by suicide and its effects, yet she stayed on this difficult path with me. But once I made the decision to stop receiving help, her trust in me was broken. And she was right. She deserved the peace of mind to know that her friend was complete emotionally and mentally. It was a selfish decision I made. It was a decision that I would regret.
There has been a tremendous amount of healing between NP and myself and for that I'm thankful. She is an unbelievable teacher and has taught me so much.....and not just in the classroom. Looking back at this journey, there are so many moments and decisions that I wish I could change, but the fact is, I cannot. All I can do is try to forgive myself and consider it remarkable when others forgive me as well.
There has been a tremendous amount of healing between NP and myself and for that I'm thankful. She is an unbelievable teacher and has taught me so much.....and not just in the classroom. Looking back at this journey, there are so many moments and decisions that I wish I could change, but the fact is, I cannot. All I can do is try to forgive myself and consider it remarkable when others forgive me as well.
Chapter 25....the healing begins
I walked into church 2 days after I got home from the nuthouse. Outside of family, I had not laid eyes on anyone yet. I'm not sure I can really describe what it was like to walk in, look around and just wonder what they knew. If I could manage to look into their eyes, I might have a better idea of what they were thinking. But the fact is, I kept my head down. I saw MM and LH and they greeted me with a warm embrace. MM began to cry. It kills me to know how badly I scared those who love me and even worse, how badly I hurt them. For several weeks, they had done everything possible to help me. I let them down. The thought overwhelmed me. It was prayer time. I sat in my seat, covered my face with my hands and began to cry. My sister in law, Robyn, whispered "Kim, I'm going to go down to the altar and be annointed for you." Words of grace. Just when I needed them.
Chapter 24
Several of my new friends sat outside of the doctor's "office" waiting to hear if I would be going home today. I came out with a smile and they knew. We sat together and talked while the nurses got my papers in order. That last hour would touch my spirit in an incredible way. Indeed, the Lord had used even this place to touch me, to change me. Remember the sweet gal that stood from her wheelchair with her arms outstretched, wanting a hug? She was a "frequent flyer" of this place and struggled with so many issues of life. She came next to me in the hallway and as she spoke, tears filled her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "You are my hero, Kim. You were so broken when you came into this place and now you are whole." We cried together and I told her that I would be praying for her and I meant it. I told her that the Lord had used her in my life that first day when she bravely approached this quiet, confused woman that wanted nothing to do with anyone. The Lord had used her sweet touch to extend His hope. I prayed with her. What a priviledge. I will never forget her.
Kathy was searching. Over the past several days, we had many opportunities to talk. She missed her husband so much. Why had the Lord taken her soulmate? It was a question I couldn't answer, but she gladly accepted the Bible that KK had brought to me days earlier. I prayed that she would find the truth that she was so desperately seeking.
There were several others that I had grown to adore in such a short time. I would leave that day with a very different perspective. Wonderful people struggle with psychological issues, some stemming from mental illness, others just simply from "life" and the difficulties that life can bring. As I hugged their necks and walked out those doors to a freedom I had once taken for granted, I knew that I was leaving a world that held a lot of pain....not a place I necessarily wanted to return, but a place I was thankful was a part of my journey. A place I would never forget.
I said my goodbyes and walked into the lobby. Mmmmm.....there he was, my rock, my best friend, my sweet husband of 27 years. I was so glad to see the smile on his face. His warm embrace told me he was ready for me to come home. We walked outside and it was unusually warm for November. As we drove out on the familiar street in my little convertible Mazda, I became strangely terrified....terrified that I would see someone I knew. Was I ready for this? Was I ready for the uncertainty that the future would hold? Not sure, but I was certain of one thing. I would face my future with this man by my side. For today....for now.....that's all I needed to know.
Kathy was searching. Over the past several days, we had many opportunities to talk. She missed her husband so much. Why had the Lord taken her soulmate? It was a question I couldn't answer, but she gladly accepted the Bible that KK had brought to me days earlier. I prayed that she would find the truth that she was so desperately seeking.
There were several others that I had grown to adore in such a short time. I would leave that day with a very different perspective. Wonderful people struggle with psychological issues, some stemming from mental illness, others just simply from "life" and the difficulties that life can bring. As I hugged their necks and walked out those doors to a freedom I had once taken for granted, I knew that I was leaving a world that held a lot of pain....not a place I necessarily wanted to return, but a place I was thankful was a part of my journey. A place I would never forget.
I said my goodbyes and walked into the lobby. Mmmmm.....there he was, my rock, my best friend, my sweet husband of 27 years. I was so glad to see the smile on his face. His warm embrace told me he was ready for me to come home. We walked outside and it was unusually warm for November. As we drove out on the familiar street in my little convertible Mazda, I became strangely terrified....terrified that I would see someone I knew. Was I ready for this? Was I ready for the uncertainty that the future would hold? Not sure, but I was certain of one thing. I would face my future with this man by my side. For today....for now.....that's all I needed to know.
A Reflection....
I'm sitting in a small bistro cafe in Puerto Vallerta and can't help but reflect on the yesterdays of my life. I just spent 5 days with special friends that know me so well....that know me for who I am....that refused to stop believing in me, even though I reached a point that I couldn't believe in myself....friends that are not afraid to wallow through the trenches with me, yet rejoice with me in the smallest of triumphs. As they left this morning to board a plane for home, we held hands and praised God for moments spent together....moments that we no longer take for granted. There's an unspoken knowledge that it is by the grace of our Lord that we share this time. And we are thankful.
Tomorrow my family arrives to join me in Mexico. To tell you the truth, I couldn't feel more blessed than I do at this moment. I know that a lot of women don't have the support system that I have and I am aware of that fact as I write of my healing. I guess I truly believe that we are to remain focused on Him and then He sends exactly what He wants and who He wants at precisely the right time. That's just the way He does things. He has allowed me the opportunity to 'invest' much of myself in other people....it's something I love, and He has allowed others to pour themselves into my life. It's really nothing short of incredible.
Tomorrow my family arrives to join me in Mexico. To tell you the truth, I couldn't feel more blessed than I do at this moment. I know that a lot of women don't have the support system that I have and I am aware of that fact as I write of my healing. I guess I truly believe that we are to remain focused on Him and then He sends exactly what He wants and who He wants at precisely the right time. That's just the way He does things. He has allowed me the opportunity to 'invest' much of myself in other people....it's something I love, and He has allowed others to pour themselves into my life. It's really nothing short of incredible.
AWAY FOR A BIT...
For those that follow my blog, I want you to know that I'm not slackin'....I'm in Mexico on an unbelievable vacation. The first week is spent with friends that went through this experience with me whom I love and adore and whom I've known since high school *we are all turning 50 this summer....and the second week is with family. They have been and continue to be my rock. I am blessed. If I can get access to internet where we are staying, I will continue to add to my story. I'm anxious to share my healing...quite simply, because it's amazing! Certainly not because of anything that I've done, but because of my Lord and because of the incredible support system that He has given me.
Another thought....
I realized this morning that there is one area that I have not given enough attention to.... that is professional help. I believe that the Lord has given professional counselors and psychiatrists a gift that should be utilized. When my hormone issues began 2 years ago while completing my degree, etc., I sought counseling and was helped so very much in dealing with my issues. However, once I slipped into deep depression while my estrogen levels were dropping so rapidly, I became very stubborn in getting professional help. To be honest, I was afraid to go once I realized just how bad I was. I knew that if they sensed that I was suicidal, they would have me committed. I had just started a new job teaching. I couldn't take that chance. I was wrong in that decision. If you are struggling with depression, please allow others to help you no matter how much 'dignity' you may risk losing. "But what will people think? That I'm crazy??" No, they will think you are humble enough to ask for help. Don't let your pride get in the way. You see where it got me! Just because you are relying on your Lord or on your family, don't allow your emotions to make your decisions for you. You are not in a position for 'wisdom'. Choose someone that you trust and if you don't know of a good counselor, email me and I will give you a couple of names in the OKC area.
Chapter 23
The following are journal entries that I am taking word for word from my 'make do' journal the last two days of my stay. There are so many details of those days that are still foggy to me and I want to be accurate in what took place and more important, what my thoughts were during that time. It's hard for me to write them in this blog but I want to be transparent...it's extremely humbling, but this whole experience has humbled me. It's a harsh reality of what depression does to so many.
Journal entry, 8 am, Thursday
Well, I'm still at the nuthouse. I got a new roommate in the middle of the night. She's a few years older than me. She's still sleeping. She didn't go to breakfast. I can't blame her, I was there only days before. She looks familiar. I don't know, maybe we all start to look the same after a while. ha! God, I'm so much better and I thank you for that. I can laugh with the people here. We played dominoes last night until they made us go to bed. Joe is an interesting 21 year old that has been in and out of facilities for several years. It sounds like he comes from a good family. He's smart, he's cute, and he's very personable. God, there are so many 'normal' people hurting. A new girl, Cindy, shared yesterday in group how she was here again after a year's time, exactly. One year ago it was because her husband died unexpectedly. She spoke of their time together and how she spiraled into depression after his death. She was here this time because of a suicide attempt. It was the anniversary of his death and she couldn't take the pain anymore. My heart broke for her. It broke for her in a way that it wouldn't have in days past.
Journal entry, 6pm, Thursday
I sit and wait for friends and family to come to see me. Just one more hour. It's the highlight of my day. The things we take for granted. I haven't been outside for 48 hours. I miss the warm sun hitting my face. Is this really happening? I just keep wishing I would wake up. If only I had my hormone levels checked and rechecked after my surgery. Did it truly have to come to this? I was digging into the Word and seeking Your face daily...why didn't I receive discernment? I guess it would make more sense if I wasn't looking into Your eyes everyday. Somewhere I missed it. Even though I know this is not a 'spiritual' battle...it is biological and chemical, it just leaves me wondering if I missed something.
My roommate is so sad. She reminds me of when I first arrived here only a few days ago when I felt so alone. I've worked hard at making her feel 'at home'. She's starting to respond to me. I knew that I recognized her. She was a television personality a few years ago. She was brought here against her will by her daughter after suffering from depression and having suicidal thoughts. I have a heartfelt compassion for her. She's beginning to respond to me. Use me Lord.
9:30pm, Thursday
I feel very numb to a lot of things right now. It was good to see so many friends and family tonight and be with them. I know I look so bad. My hair is, well it's my hair at its finest, no make up, and I'm sure I've lost a lot of weight since I've been here. My doctor started me on a pill to increase my hunger last night. I haven't eaten anything....I mean NOTHING since I got here on Sunday. Until tonight. OK, that pill kicked in big time. At approximately 5pm, I ate every bite of my food at dinner. The guys were a bit disappointed as I usually give them my food. Then tonight at 'snack time', I ate 3 sandwiches, 2 bananas, 1 bowl of cereal, 2 graham crackers, and 2 containers of ice cream. Yes, indeed, the pill kicked in. This still feels like a dream. The shame is almost unbearable. I lay in this bed and I look at the bare wall in front of me and I still can't believe I'm in this place. I actually lost my mind. How am I supposed to live with that fact? Will I ever respect myself again? How do I start over? God, your voice seems pretty quiet, or maybe my shame won't allow me to approach You like I'd like to. I need Your touch right now. I need to know that You've forgiven me. I want to go home, but I'm scared. I'm afraid I'll crash again. I'm afraid I'll let my shame get the best of me. I'm so afraid. But truth be known, I've been afraid for quite some time. Please help me to rest. Quiet my mind. I just need peace. I don't feel the depression that I had come to know well for several weeks, but yet I feel so exposed. I guess I'm disgusted that I allowed myself to become so weak. And even worse? That I allowed others to see me at my weakest.
Journal entry, 8 am, Thursday
Well, I'm still at the nuthouse. I got a new roommate in the middle of the night. She's a few years older than me. She's still sleeping. She didn't go to breakfast. I can't blame her, I was there only days before. She looks familiar. I don't know, maybe we all start to look the same after a while. ha! God, I'm so much better and I thank you for that. I can laugh with the people here. We played dominoes last night until they made us go to bed. Joe is an interesting 21 year old that has been in and out of facilities for several years. It sounds like he comes from a good family. He's smart, he's cute, and he's very personable. God, there are so many 'normal' people hurting. A new girl, Cindy, shared yesterday in group how she was here again after a year's time, exactly. One year ago it was because her husband died unexpectedly. She spoke of their time together and how she spiraled into depression after his death. She was here this time because of a suicide attempt. It was the anniversary of his death and she couldn't take the pain anymore. My heart broke for her. It broke for her in a way that it wouldn't have in days past.
Journal entry, 6pm, Thursday
I sit and wait for friends and family to come to see me. Just one more hour. It's the highlight of my day. The things we take for granted. I haven't been outside for 48 hours. I miss the warm sun hitting my face. Is this really happening? I just keep wishing I would wake up. If only I had my hormone levels checked and rechecked after my surgery. Did it truly have to come to this? I was digging into the Word and seeking Your face daily...why didn't I receive discernment? I guess it would make more sense if I wasn't looking into Your eyes everyday. Somewhere I missed it. Even though I know this is not a 'spiritual' battle...it is biological and chemical, it just leaves me wondering if I missed something.
My roommate is so sad. She reminds me of when I first arrived here only a few days ago when I felt so alone. I've worked hard at making her feel 'at home'. She's starting to respond to me. I knew that I recognized her. She was a television personality a few years ago. She was brought here against her will by her daughter after suffering from depression and having suicidal thoughts. I have a heartfelt compassion for her. She's beginning to respond to me. Use me Lord.
9:30pm, Thursday
I feel very numb to a lot of things right now. It was good to see so many friends and family tonight and be with them. I know I look so bad. My hair is, well it's my hair at its finest, no make up, and I'm sure I've lost a lot of weight since I've been here. My doctor started me on a pill to increase my hunger last night. I haven't eaten anything....I mean NOTHING since I got here on Sunday. Until tonight. OK, that pill kicked in big time. At approximately 5pm, I ate every bite of my food at dinner. The guys were a bit disappointed as I usually give them my food. Then tonight at 'snack time', I ate 3 sandwiches, 2 bananas, 1 bowl of cereal, 2 graham crackers, and 2 containers of ice cream. Yes, indeed, the pill kicked in. This still feels like a dream. The shame is almost unbearable. I lay in this bed and I look at the bare wall in front of me and I still can't believe I'm in this place. I actually lost my mind. How am I supposed to live with that fact? Will I ever respect myself again? How do I start over? God, your voice seems pretty quiet, or maybe my shame won't allow me to approach You like I'd like to. I need Your touch right now. I need to know that You've forgiven me. I want to go home, but I'm scared. I'm afraid I'll crash again. I'm afraid I'll let my shame get the best of me. I'm so afraid. But truth be known, I've been afraid for quite some time. Please help me to rest. Quiet my mind. I just need peace. I don't feel the depression that I had come to know well for several weeks, but yet I feel so exposed. I guess I'm disgusted that I allowed myself to become so weak. And even worse? That I allowed others to see me at my weakest.
Journal entry, Friday morning
I am still struggling with what I've done and the impact that it will have on my life and my relationships. I can't help but wonder if even those that know me best and know me for who I truly am will look differently at me in the days ahead. I'm so sorry that I've put them through my hell. I certainly don't deserve their grace, but I'm not sure I will make it without it. My friends come to see me in this place, they look me in the eyes and they tell me that they believe in me. My brother came to see me. Tears filled his eyes as he said, "I know you, Kim. This isn't who you are. You've been sick, but you will get through this and I will stay by your side and make sure that happens." I am so blessed to have others in my life that refuse to give up on me. My mind goes over every detail that I can remember of Saturday night. I snapped. I will see the doctor this morning and I think he's going to release me to go home. Ugghhh... the very thought of it brings a sense of excitement and a sense of pure panic! Yesterday in group I shared that I want this whole nightmare of an experience to make me better, not worse. That is my prayer, Father. Do what You want to with this woman. I'm broken like I've never been broken before. I don't plan on being "in this place" for long. I long to heal. I long to grow. I long to be the best I can be. I've made choices over the past few weeks that even though I wasn't in my right mind, I am still responsible for. I have a lot to face in my tomorrows. grace.......that's a great word, grace.
Just some thoughts...
I have received several emails over the past couple of days and I feel led this morning to respond with some thoughts. I will continue with my story tomorrow...
First of all, it doesn't surprise me but saddens me that so many women are suffering. Ya know, we make it through our tough teen years and then somehow get through the season of being young adults with heartbreak and the pain of growing up that comes with it. Our kids bring joy to our lives (ok, most of the time :) they can also bring their share of heartache...) and we get through the tough times of marriage or perhaps start over due to the heartbreak that marriage can bring. We are stay-at-home moms that get few pats on the back or we are women with careers that we have worked hard to achieve respect in the workplace. Then we reach our 40's. We think...."Ok, now I can breathe easier. The toughest times of life are behind me." We are shocked into a reality that we would never be prepared for. Our bodies are changing (again...) and our minds follow suit. I don't say that to freak out the 30 something's that are reading this. But I gotta tell ya, I wish I would've known then what I know now. Perhaps it wouldn't have taken me so off guard. I wish I would have approached this season of my life with a touch more wisdom. Would the outcome have been any different? Not sure about that. But perhaps yours will be.
There are so many verses that I have clung to during this season of life. "Be still and know that I am God." worth repeating. "Be still and know that I am God." If you are going through a time of depression and/or hormonal imbalance, it becomes very easy to lean on those around you and want them to carry you through this. Fact is, the only one strong enough to carry this for you is Jesus Christ, your Lord, your Savior. Let Him be your Savior. If you can find yourself in the arms of Christ, your focus will change. You won't be able to take your eyes off of His. Please don't misunderstand me here....I'm not saying that by leaning on Christ, it will take the depression away. And I'm certainly not saying that your struggles have anything to do with your spiritual walk. This isn't happening as a result of anything you did to deserve this. It's not a punishment from God. But He alone can give you hope. He will get you through it, though you may feel beat up when it's said and done. There are so many times when you are in the midst of this that you feel abandoned by Him. But He knows you better than anyone else in your life and He will "never leave you nor forsake you." Others will support you in love, no doubt about that. That's the way it should be. As Christian women, we are to be there for each other. And our husbands? They can be the greatest support we could hope for, but the truth is...there is absolutely NO way they can 'get' what's going on. We don't understand it ourselves, how can we expect for the males in our lives to get it? We can't. And fact is, we need to give them the grace not to get it. Do we need grace during this time? Oh boy, probably more than we even know, but we must give it to others during this time as well. If your eyes are fixed on Him then they can't be gazing at other people and what they are or are not doing to make things better for you. There's another one that you must give grace to... yourself. It's a rude awakening to find that you are not the 'strong' woman you used to be. It's hard to look in the mirror and not feel disgusted at the woman you see. Let me say something here, sister. You must give yourself a huge amount of grace and accept who you see staring back at you. Begin to pray that not only others begin to see you through the eyes of Christ, but that you begin to see yourself through His eyes as well. This is an incredibly heavy load to carry. In fact, it's unbearable. Some fall under the weight and don't make it back up. It destroys. But the good news???? There IS victory in this battle! You are not supposed to fail! The Lord has not set you up for failure. He has prepared you for victory. Take it. But few can do it alone. I've never seen anyone fight this battle alone and win. Crawl up into His arms. And then, 'be still and know that He is God." He will send you who you need when you need them. Keep your eyes focused on Him. HE is all you need. You are not alone.
First of all, it doesn't surprise me but saddens me that so many women are suffering. Ya know, we make it through our tough teen years and then somehow get through the season of being young adults with heartbreak and the pain of growing up that comes with it. Our kids bring joy to our lives (ok, most of the time :) they can also bring their share of heartache...) and we get through the tough times of marriage or perhaps start over due to the heartbreak that marriage can bring. We are stay-at-home moms that get few pats on the back or we are women with careers that we have worked hard to achieve respect in the workplace. Then we reach our 40's. We think...."Ok, now I can breathe easier. The toughest times of life are behind me." We are shocked into a reality that we would never be prepared for. Our bodies are changing (again...) and our minds follow suit. I don't say that to freak out the 30 something's that are reading this. But I gotta tell ya, I wish I would've known then what I know now. Perhaps it wouldn't have taken me so off guard. I wish I would have approached this season of my life with a touch more wisdom. Would the outcome have been any different? Not sure about that. But perhaps yours will be.
There are so many verses that I have clung to during this season of life. "Be still and know that I am God." worth repeating. "Be still and know that I am God." If you are going through a time of depression and/or hormonal imbalance, it becomes very easy to lean on those around you and want them to carry you through this. Fact is, the only one strong enough to carry this for you is Jesus Christ, your Lord, your Savior. Let Him be your Savior. If you can find yourself in the arms of Christ, your focus will change. You won't be able to take your eyes off of His. Please don't misunderstand me here....I'm not saying that by leaning on Christ, it will take the depression away. And I'm certainly not saying that your struggles have anything to do with your spiritual walk. This isn't happening as a result of anything you did to deserve this. It's not a punishment from God. But He alone can give you hope. He will get you through it, though you may feel beat up when it's said and done. There are so many times when you are in the midst of this that you feel abandoned by Him. But He knows you better than anyone else in your life and He will "never leave you nor forsake you." Others will support you in love, no doubt about that. That's the way it should be. As Christian women, we are to be there for each other. And our husbands? They can be the greatest support we could hope for, but the truth is...there is absolutely NO way they can 'get' what's going on. We don't understand it ourselves, how can we expect for the males in our lives to get it? We can't. And fact is, we need to give them the grace not to get it. Do we need grace during this time? Oh boy, probably more than we even know, but we must give it to others during this time as well. If your eyes are fixed on Him then they can't be gazing at other people and what they are or are not doing to make things better for you. There's another one that you must give grace to... yourself. It's a rude awakening to find that you are not the 'strong' woman you used to be. It's hard to look in the mirror and not feel disgusted at the woman you see. Let me say something here, sister. You must give yourself a huge amount of grace and accept who you see staring back at you. Begin to pray that not only others begin to see you through the eyes of Christ, but that you begin to see yourself through His eyes as well. This is an incredibly heavy load to carry. In fact, it's unbearable. Some fall under the weight and don't make it back up. It destroys. But the good news???? There IS victory in this battle! You are not supposed to fail! The Lord has not set you up for failure. He has prepared you for victory. Take it. But few can do it alone. I've never seen anyone fight this battle alone and win. Crawl up into His arms. And then, 'be still and know that He is God." He will send you who you need when you need them. Keep your eyes focused on Him. HE is all you need. You are not alone.
Chapter 22
Journal entry, Wednesday morning
I had a lot of visitors again last night and it helped me to hear their words of grace and acceptance. I can't believe I have put them through this. I am faced this morning with the reality that I ran off a friend. Ugghh. How do I get over the shame and embarrassment of that? My heart is broken. It hit me at the core of who I am. I have always attracted friends, not run them off. Today I can't focus on that. My mind feels different this morning. I feel more clear. I think the hormone patch has kicked in. It's almost like I can breathe again. Can I really be that dependent on hormones? All I know is that I feel better. My roommate is going home this morning. I will miss her. I have had the opportunity to pray with her over the past few days. I think she's going to go to Celebrate Recovery at Western Oaks. I told her I would go with her if she wanted me to. We'll see. Father, please help her to stay strong. Help her to lean on you. Use me in any way you want to in the days ahead to be your arms to her. I can't believe how my eyes have been opened to "the other side". There are definitely some crazies in here, but for the most part it's full of people just like me that need some temporary help. I am making some dear friends in this place. I have found the strength to laugh again. They have touched my life. I wish I would have let my friends talk me into coming here a couple of weeks ago. They would've had to drag me here by my nappy head of hair. I feel safe in this place. Who knew?
Journal entry, Wednesday afternoon
I just got back from being outside. The small things in life that we take for granted. I felt like a little kid when the activities director announced overhead that today's activity time would be held outside. My insides lept with excitement! Wierd, the different perspective I have in this place.
I had a lot of visitors again last night and it helped me to hear their words of grace and acceptance. I can't believe I have put them through this. I am faced this morning with the reality that I ran off a friend. Ugghh. How do I get over the shame and embarrassment of that? My heart is broken. It hit me at the core of who I am. I have always attracted friends, not run them off. Today I can't focus on that. My mind feels different this morning. I feel more clear. I think the hormone patch has kicked in. It's almost like I can breathe again. Can I really be that dependent on hormones? All I know is that I feel better. My roommate is going home this morning. I will miss her. I have had the opportunity to pray with her over the past few days. I think she's going to go to Celebrate Recovery at Western Oaks. I told her I would go with her if she wanted me to. We'll see. Father, please help her to stay strong. Help her to lean on you. Use me in any way you want to in the days ahead to be your arms to her. I can't believe how my eyes have been opened to "the other side". There are definitely some crazies in here, but for the most part it's full of people just like me that need some temporary help. I am making some dear friends in this place. I have found the strength to laugh again. They have touched my life. I wish I would have let my friends talk me into coming here a couple of weeks ago. They would've had to drag me here by my nappy head of hair. I feel safe in this place. Who knew?
Journal entry, Wednesday afternoon
I just got back from being outside. The small things in life that we take for granted. I felt like a little kid when the activities director announced overhead that today's activity time would be held outside. My insides lept with excitement! Wierd, the different perspective I have in this place.
The depression is lifting and I can't believe how much better I feel! But it doesn't keep my mind from playing and replaying the events of Saturday night. Oh God, how do I get past the shame? How do I face the outside world again? I wonder who knows about it and what they must be saying. I hope my boys aren't having to hear anything about it at school. Bethany's a small town. Everyone knows everything. Please protect them, Father. I don't want them to have to experience any shame because of what I did. When I met with the doctor this morning, he was amazed at how much 'different' I was. He said that this has been very educational for him. He knew that hormones play a big role in women's lives, but the fact that I started my estrogen patch yesterday and the huge difference in how I looked today and even how I spoke was proof to him. He said that I have a sparkle in my eyes this morning that I didn't have yesterday morning. He spoke to Mark on the phone while I was in the office and they decided together that although I was so much better, they would both feel better if I stayed a couple more days. Mark admitted that he was not quite ready for me to come home yet. That didn't hurt my feelings. I understand. I'm not sure I'm ready yet. I talked to Logan later and he said that he was excited that I might get to come home on Friday. Home....bittersweet.
Chapter 21
It was Tuesday morning. What a difference a day made. So much had occurred the day before that I woke up feeling hopeful for today. What would it bring? The day would prove to be one of the toughest of my journey. To tell you the truth, I couldn't have prepared myself for what the next few hours would hold. I tell you about the events of the day with the specific purpose of showing what the illness of depression and the effects of hormones can do to others involved. Over the past several days I lost something very precious to me, my dignity. Today I would lose something else precious to me...a friendship.
I have written and rewritten this chapter over and over. It's a tough one to write. I considered leaving this part of the story out, but I don't want to water down the events that have taken place. It's a difficult part of my story to relive, but it is a very real part of not only my illness, but of my healing. So I will tell this portion of my story with truth, but also with integrity. During the months leading up to my breakdown, I struggled with the response of my friend, KE and clung to this verse in Psalms. It says, "Keep my soul and deliver me. Let me not be ashamed, for I put my trust in You. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me for I will wait for You." I tell this with KE's permission and even her blessing. I guess that shows her character and why I grew to love her so deeply as a friend and why I grieved so in the loss of that friendship.
KE had contacted the facility the day before and asked for permission to meet with me and one of the therapists sometime over the next few days. It was arranged with the therapist and I agreed to meet with them at 1pm today. She told them that she felt she was one of the reasons I was in this place. Did she not see that it would not have mattered if she would have been on this journey every step of the way....the result would have been the same? I would be glad to see her. I had called her Saturday night in the parking lot while waiting for my prescription to be filled. I know the call upset her. She showed up moments later just prior to the arrival of the police and saw me in a 'crazed' state of mind. I mentioned earlier that we had experienced 'life' together over the past 3 years of our friendship. We had connected in an unusual way from the beginning. She had gone to nursing school as an adult as I had and was in her last year. I was about to finish my master's degree in nursing education. She had some very real concerns about completing school and starting her career as a mom and a wife. I had a special place in my heart for nursing students and it felt as though the Lord had given me a heart for her from the start. The next several months would be spent talking a lot, praying together, and encouraging each other through the end of our time of education. We became very close very quickly. We not only shared the love of nursing, but also a very deep love for our Lord and for our family. After she graduated and began her new graduate orientation, she began to struggle severely with anxiety. I won't share her struggles with you out of respect for her privacy. I will just say that the next year was a journey that was tough for her and her family. The Lord gave me an incredible compassion for her during this time. She had become like a little sister to me and I walked very closely with her during this journey. Too closely? Perhaps, but the Lord had given me a heart for people and He had certainly given me a heart for her. Was it unhealthy? Neither of us thought so at the time. Are there supposed to be boundaries established for those that are hurting and need you? To what extent does the passage mean, "carry each other's burdens"? I was not really a person with too many boundaries. I didn't let people run over me, but my dad had taught me and shown me by example throughout my life that you should always give 100% of yourself, whatever the situation. I wasn't good at asking others for help and always feared being "needy", but loved helping others during their time of need. That is not a statement of pride. Believe me, I now know that that's not necessarily the healthiest way to be in any relationship. I trusted her with my "need". As my boundaries broadened, hers were closing in. The more I wanted her on this journey with me, she began to feel "smothered". I needed her to trust that although I was changing before her eyes, I was the same friend that I was a year ago. I needed her to believe in me when I reached a point that I couldn't believe in myself. That's not fair to ask of anyone. I related to Paul as he spoke to the Corinthians. He said, "Have we not shared the same spirit? Have we not walked the same path?" Perhaps it was too fresh for her, too familiar. I was becoming very sick. My hormones were escalating out of control and so were my insecurities. Yuck! This was not a feeling I was familiar with and this confident, strong woman was feeling scared and weak.
As October 31st drew near, it didn't matter who was on this path with me. I don't say that carelessly, I say that because I reached a point that no matter who and no matter how many joined me on this journey, it wouldn't prevent my crashing. The Lord had sent so many friends and family to fight this battle with me. In the end, it was me and death fighting it out and my Lord was the only one that could save me. He did.
When KE arrived, I would learn that her mom and sister had brought her. They were in the waiting room. These are the two women that I spent many hours with praying for K. Our hearts broke together for her. Seemed ironic that they were the ones that brought her to this place. KE, the therapist Ron, and myself sat in a room. I was medicated and it was difficult to focus. The hormone patch they placed on me a few hours earlier had not taken effect yet. Over the next hour, we talked, we cried and I agreed to do what she had come to do...end the friendship. There was a look of distance in her eyes. This friend that once treasured what we shared no longer believed in me. That's a tough reality to grasp. She was doing what she thought was best for her and her family. Was her intent to kick me while I was down? It felt like it at the moment, but I knew her better than that. I knew that she had come then because she thought I would have the support needed to deal with this meeting. What she didn't know, though, is that when she walked out those doors, so did Ron. There would be no one to talk to me about what had just taken place. I had no family or friends to cry with me. This illness had cost me so much. "Whatever it takes, Lord"....hmmmm, my dignity....my self-respect....my reputation...my best friend. Oh God, this cannot be a part of your plan. I am your child. I layed on my bed and looked at the familiar ceiling. I was never more alone than I was at that moment. I would remain there for several hours until I heard the announcement, "Kim B., you have visitors in the dining hall." I'm not sure I was up for visitors, but as I walked in and saw my sister-in-law and brother-in-law from Colorado sitting there, a peace came over me. The warmth of their hugs told me that I was going to make it. I would see Mark a few minutes later. The look in his eyes was different. He held my hand and told me that he had come to the realization that I was sick during the previous days, that I truly didn't know what I was doing. The anger was replaced with gentleness and compassion.Thank you, Father. You knew what I needed at that exact moment and that's precisely what You gave me.
A sidenote to this chapter:
I wish I could say that our friendship was restored and is healthy and whole. The fact is, we are both healing from a very difficult journey of life. I'm not gonna lie. I would rather be healing with my buddy by my side, but I have a feeling that when she thinks of me, she breathes a word of prayer for me....I know I do her. I am so thankful that our paths crossed. We have shared some fabulous times of just being crazy women that loved to spend time together laughing (I mean gut-wrenching laughter), praying and seeking the Lord's face together, and encouraging one another in life and in love. Being friends with her has challenged me to be better wife, a better mother, and a better servant of Christ. One of the many highlights of our friendship? When we took a trip to Mexico.....we sat in an open air restaurant on the beach and told each other the things we love most about our husbands. We may not ever share those times again, but I have absolutely no regrets, my sweet friend, for our time together. You have blessed me.
An update (as of May, 2013): Since the last entry was written (3 years ago), a lot has taken place that I think deserves updating. I spent much of my energy over the past 3 years attempting to find 'closure' in what happened in this relationship. Turns out, what I needed was healing. I just needed to the Lord to heal the brokenness that was there. During my healing, the Lord revealed a truth to me. He showed me that in the very beginning of our relationship (mine & KE's), during a time when KE was struggling immensely with anxiety and depression, I was 'too' involved. He asked me to back off and to allow Him to do what He needed to do in her life. I couldn't do it. I was afraid she would feel like I was abandoning her and I couldn't do it. It was disobedience. The Lord revealed it so clearly to me recently and I knew it was truth....it hit me like a ton of bricks! It was at that moment of disobedience that our friendship took a turn. The Lord's hand was no longer 'on' it. A beautiful, kindred friendship turned unhealthy very quickly. I have met with KE since the Lord revealed that truth to me and I confessed my disobedience. It was painful for both of us. She has carried the weight of abandoning her best friend for several years. I watched that weight lift that night, as tears poured down her face. I will regret that moment of disobedience for the rest of my life, but will embrace the grace of my Lord and Savior, as well as the grace of KE and her family. The pain from our past has created many wounds for both of us. But those wounds no longer ooze and bleed...they have healed and are now scars. We look at each other and undoubtedly see those scars, how can we not? With the Lord's continued healing touch, our scars no longer bring a sense of shame, but rather restoration and redemption.
I have written and rewritten this chapter over and over. It's a tough one to write. I considered leaving this part of the story out, but I don't want to water down the events that have taken place. It's a difficult part of my story to relive, but it is a very real part of not only my illness, but of my healing. So I will tell this portion of my story with truth, but also with integrity. During the months leading up to my breakdown, I struggled with the response of my friend, KE and clung to this verse in Psalms. It says, "Keep my soul and deliver me. Let me not be ashamed, for I put my trust in You. Let integrity and uprightness preserve me for I will wait for You." I tell this with KE's permission and even her blessing. I guess that shows her character and why I grew to love her so deeply as a friend and why I grieved so in the loss of that friendship.
KE had contacted the facility the day before and asked for permission to meet with me and one of the therapists sometime over the next few days. It was arranged with the therapist and I agreed to meet with them at 1pm today. She told them that she felt she was one of the reasons I was in this place. Did she not see that it would not have mattered if she would have been on this journey every step of the way....the result would have been the same? I would be glad to see her. I had called her Saturday night in the parking lot while waiting for my prescription to be filled. I know the call upset her. She showed up moments later just prior to the arrival of the police and saw me in a 'crazed' state of mind. I mentioned earlier that we had experienced 'life' together over the past 3 years of our friendship. We had connected in an unusual way from the beginning. She had gone to nursing school as an adult as I had and was in her last year. I was about to finish my master's degree in nursing education. She had some very real concerns about completing school and starting her career as a mom and a wife. I had a special place in my heart for nursing students and it felt as though the Lord had given me a heart for her from the start. The next several months would be spent talking a lot, praying together, and encouraging each other through the end of our time of education. We became very close very quickly. We not only shared the love of nursing, but also a very deep love for our Lord and for our family. After she graduated and began her new graduate orientation, she began to struggle severely with anxiety. I won't share her struggles with you out of respect for her privacy. I will just say that the next year was a journey that was tough for her and her family. The Lord gave me an incredible compassion for her during this time. She had become like a little sister to me and I walked very closely with her during this journey. Too closely? Perhaps, but the Lord had given me a heart for people and He had certainly given me a heart for her. Was it unhealthy? Neither of us thought so at the time. Are there supposed to be boundaries established for those that are hurting and need you? To what extent does the passage mean, "carry each other's burdens"? I was not really a person with too many boundaries. I didn't let people run over me, but my dad had taught me and shown me by example throughout my life that you should always give 100% of yourself, whatever the situation. I wasn't good at asking others for help and always feared being "needy", but loved helping others during their time of need. That is not a statement of pride. Believe me, I now know that that's not necessarily the healthiest way to be in any relationship. I trusted her with my "need". As my boundaries broadened, hers were closing in. The more I wanted her on this journey with me, she began to feel "smothered". I needed her to trust that although I was changing before her eyes, I was the same friend that I was a year ago. I needed her to believe in me when I reached a point that I couldn't believe in myself. That's not fair to ask of anyone. I related to Paul as he spoke to the Corinthians. He said, "Have we not shared the same spirit? Have we not walked the same path?" Perhaps it was too fresh for her, too familiar. I was becoming very sick. My hormones were escalating out of control and so were my insecurities. Yuck! This was not a feeling I was familiar with and this confident, strong woman was feeling scared and weak.
As October 31st drew near, it didn't matter who was on this path with me. I don't say that carelessly, I say that because I reached a point that no matter who and no matter how many joined me on this journey, it wouldn't prevent my crashing. The Lord had sent so many friends and family to fight this battle with me. In the end, it was me and death fighting it out and my Lord was the only one that could save me. He did.
When KE arrived, I would learn that her mom and sister had brought her. They were in the waiting room. These are the two women that I spent many hours with praying for K. Our hearts broke together for her. Seemed ironic that they were the ones that brought her to this place. KE, the therapist Ron, and myself sat in a room. I was medicated and it was difficult to focus. The hormone patch they placed on me a few hours earlier had not taken effect yet. Over the next hour, we talked, we cried and I agreed to do what she had come to do...end the friendship. There was a look of distance in her eyes. This friend that once treasured what we shared no longer believed in me. That's a tough reality to grasp. She was doing what she thought was best for her and her family. Was her intent to kick me while I was down? It felt like it at the moment, but I knew her better than that. I knew that she had come then because she thought I would have the support needed to deal with this meeting. What she didn't know, though, is that when she walked out those doors, so did Ron. There would be no one to talk to me about what had just taken place. I had no family or friends to cry with me. This illness had cost me so much. "Whatever it takes, Lord"....hmmmm, my dignity....my self-respect....my reputation...my best friend. Oh God, this cannot be a part of your plan. I am your child. I layed on my bed and looked at the familiar ceiling. I was never more alone than I was at that moment. I would remain there for several hours until I heard the announcement, "Kim B., you have visitors in the dining hall." I'm not sure I was up for visitors, but as I walked in and saw my sister-in-law and brother-in-law from Colorado sitting there, a peace came over me. The warmth of their hugs told me that I was going to make it. I would see Mark a few minutes later. The look in his eyes was different. He held my hand and told me that he had come to the realization that I was sick during the previous days, that I truly didn't know what I was doing. The anger was replaced with gentleness and compassion.Thank you, Father. You knew what I needed at that exact moment and that's precisely what You gave me.
A sidenote to this chapter:
I wish I could say that our friendship was restored and is healthy and whole. The fact is, we are both healing from a very difficult journey of life. I'm not gonna lie. I would rather be healing with my buddy by my side, but I have a feeling that when she thinks of me, she breathes a word of prayer for me....I know I do her. I am so thankful that our paths crossed. We have shared some fabulous times of just being crazy women that loved to spend time together laughing (I mean gut-wrenching laughter), praying and seeking the Lord's face together, and encouraging one another in life and in love. Being friends with her has challenged me to be better wife, a better mother, and a better servant of Christ. One of the many highlights of our friendship? When we took a trip to Mexico.....we sat in an open air restaurant on the beach and told each other the things we love most about our husbands. We may not ever share those times again, but I have absolutely no regrets, my sweet friend, for our time together. You have blessed me.
An update (as of May, 2013): Since the last entry was written (3 years ago), a lot has taken place that I think deserves updating. I spent much of my energy over the past 3 years attempting to find 'closure' in what happened in this relationship. Turns out, what I needed was healing. I just needed to the Lord to heal the brokenness that was there. During my healing, the Lord revealed a truth to me. He showed me that in the very beginning of our relationship (mine & KE's), during a time when KE was struggling immensely with anxiety and depression, I was 'too' involved. He asked me to back off and to allow Him to do what He needed to do in her life. I couldn't do it. I was afraid she would feel like I was abandoning her and I couldn't do it. It was disobedience. The Lord revealed it so clearly to me recently and I knew it was truth....it hit me like a ton of bricks! It was at that moment of disobedience that our friendship took a turn. The Lord's hand was no longer 'on' it. A beautiful, kindred friendship turned unhealthy very quickly. I have met with KE since the Lord revealed that truth to me and I confessed my disobedience. It was painful for both of us. She has carried the weight of abandoning her best friend for several years. I watched that weight lift that night, as tears poured down her face. I will regret that moment of disobedience for the rest of my life, but will embrace the grace of my Lord and Savior, as well as the grace of KE and her family. The pain from our past has created many wounds for both of us. But those wounds no longer ooze and bleed...they have healed and are now scars. We look at each other and undoubtedly see those scars, how can we not? With the Lord's continued healing touch, our scars no longer bring a sense of shame, but rather restoration and redemption.
Chapter 20
"Yet in all things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us." Romans 8:37. My friend KK had brought me a bible the night before. I didn't want my bible up there, it was too precious to me. I couldn't take a chance on something happening to it. This was one that she had gotten at Life Church that they handed out to new believers. I was so thankful to have it today.
After group, they called me to the medication station. I would be taking my regular medications, as well as the Ritalin. It didn't take long for it to kick in. It was a strange sensation I was feeling. My heart was racing, I couldn't sit still even for a moment, and the woman that only hours before had absolutely nothing to say to anyone, suddenly couldn't shut up. Let's face it. It was speed and it was doing more than "restarting my engine"! Kay (my roommate) laughed out loud as she lay on the bed and watched me. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you, but a few hours ago, you were lying in your bed or walking around wrapped up in a blanket having absolutely nothing to say to anyone. And now....well, you are pacing the floors and you are talking. Boy are you talking! I think I like this Kim better. I think." She was not the only one that saw the new Kim in action. I went to lunch and although I didn't eat a bite of food, I think I kept them entertained. Some just blankly stared at me......I'll have what she's having. No, they didn't say that, but I feel certain that's what they were thinking! Maybe not.
It was strange. As 'high' as I felt, I still felt the sting of depression. If I did sit for any period of time, my mind immediately reviewed the events of the past 72 hours. I was thankful for the brief periods of relief and release from the shame, the hopelessness. In the afternoon, Susan, one of the nurses, came and found me to give me another Ritalin. She joked and said she was going to give me some cleaning utensils and watch me go to work on the place! I was developing a special bond with the nurses. I had always said, "I could never be a psych nurse. Too boring. Who wants to talk to crazy people all day?" Consider this nurse's perspective changed. These women made all the difference in the world to me. They were so kind. They were nonjudgmental. They didn't speak down to me...they spoke to me as a peer. It takes a very special person to be a psych nurse, and these nurses were true to their profession. They were special.
Another announcement. "It's activities time! We'll be going outside today. Meet in the lounge if you would like to go outside." The things we take for granted. I had not seen the light of day or enjoyed the sunshine's warmth since my kayaking trip on Saturday. As we walked outside, I wasn't even bothered by the high fences that outlined the yard and small basketball court. I took a deep breath of fresh air. Thank you Father, thank you for this moment, right now. A young black guy, probably about 19 began to play basketball. Soon another joined him. They were good. They knew what they were doing, no doubt about that. I jumped up. "Can I play with you guys?" They looked at each other and smiled, "sure you can". I'm not gonna lie. I couldn't even begin to keep up with them, but I do think they were a little surprised that this old, white gal could shoot some hoops with them. It was the highlight of my day. I loved every second of it.
It was close to the visiting hour. I wish I had some make-up to touch up with. It was not allowed. I wondered if Mark would come. And Sara? Although she was 18, I wasn't sure she would be able to handle seeing me in this place. I had spoken with the boys on the phone earlier in the day. They cried as they told me that they were ok. Luke said, "Mom, don't worry about us. Please just get better so you can come home. We need you." How would they have ever gotten over the pain of their mother killing herself? And why didn't thoughts of my husband and children keep me from even going down that path? The doctor's explaination made the most sense. "A portion of your brain literally shut off". No reasoning...no judgment....no guilt....no fear.
I would see Sara that night. Her and Mark sat at the table in the dining room. She was sobbing. We held each other and cried for several minutes. Mark still appeared numb. I was just glad he was there. There was so much pain in his eyes. They didn't stay long. They told me there were several here to see me and they would only allow two at a time. It was bittersweet. I hated for people to see me this way and in this place, but I treasured every minute of being with those that loved me. They still loved me. As I hugged the last one good-bye while the staff stood by waiting to lock the door, one of the techs, Mike said, "I think you are setting records here for the most visitors!" I wasn't interested in setting any records, but I was thankful. I was blessed. I certainly didn't deserve this amount of grace....this amount of love that was being poured out, but it gave me insight to what God's grace can do when it's displayed through others. It's nothing short of amazing.
After group, they called me to the medication station. I would be taking my regular medications, as well as the Ritalin. It didn't take long for it to kick in. It was a strange sensation I was feeling. My heart was racing, I couldn't sit still even for a moment, and the woman that only hours before had absolutely nothing to say to anyone, suddenly couldn't shut up. Let's face it. It was speed and it was doing more than "restarting my engine"! Kay (my roommate) laughed out loud as she lay on the bed and watched me. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you, but a few hours ago, you were lying in your bed or walking around wrapped up in a blanket having absolutely nothing to say to anyone. And now....well, you are pacing the floors and you are talking. Boy are you talking! I think I like this Kim better. I think." She was not the only one that saw the new Kim in action. I went to lunch and although I didn't eat a bite of food, I think I kept them entertained. Some just blankly stared at me......I'll have what she's having. No, they didn't say that, but I feel certain that's what they were thinking! Maybe not.
It was strange. As 'high' as I felt, I still felt the sting of depression. If I did sit for any period of time, my mind immediately reviewed the events of the past 72 hours. I was thankful for the brief periods of relief and release from the shame, the hopelessness. In the afternoon, Susan, one of the nurses, came and found me to give me another Ritalin. She joked and said she was going to give me some cleaning utensils and watch me go to work on the place! I was developing a special bond with the nurses. I had always said, "I could never be a psych nurse. Too boring. Who wants to talk to crazy people all day?" Consider this nurse's perspective changed. These women made all the difference in the world to me. They were so kind. They were nonjudgmental. They didn't speak down to me...they spoke to me as a peer. It takes a very special person to be a psych nurse, and these nurses were true to their profession. They were special.
Another announcement. "It's activities time! We'll be going outside today. Meet in the lounge if you would like to go outside." The things we take for granted. I had not seen the light of day or enjoyed the sunshine's warmth since my kayaking trip on Saturday. As we walked outside, I wasn't even bothered by the high fences that outlined the yard and small basketball court. I took a deep breath of fresh air. Thank you Father, thank you for this moment, right now. A young black guy, probably about 19 began to play basketball. Soon another joined him. They were good. They knew what they were doing, no doubt about that. I jumped up. "Can I play with you guys?" They looked at each other and smiled, "sure you can". I'm not gonna lie. I couldn't even begin to keep up with them, but I do think they were a little surprised that this old, white gal could shoot some hoops with them. It was the highlight of my day. I loved every second of it.
It was close to the visiting hour. I wish I had some make-up to touch up with. It was not allowed. I wondered if Mark would come. And Sara? Although she was 18, I wasn't sure she would be able to handle seeing me in this place. I had spoken with the boys on the phone earlier in the day. They cried as they told me that they were ok. Luke said, "Mom, don't worry about us. Please just get better so you can come home. We need you." How would they have ever gotten over the pain of their mother killing herself? And why didn't thoughts of my husband and children keep me from even going down that path? The doctor's explaination made the most sense. "A portion of your brain literally shut off". No reasoning...no judgment....no guilt....no fear.
I would see Sara that night. Her and Mark sat at the table in the dining room. She was sobbing. We held each other and cried for several minutes. Mark still appeared numb. I was just glad he was there. There was so much pain in his eyes. They didn't stay long. They told me there were several here to see me and they would only allow two at a time. It was bittersweet. I hated for people to see me this way and in this place, but I treasured every minute of being with those that loved me. They still loved me. As I hugged the last one good-bye while the staff stood by waiting to lock the door, one of the techs, Mike said, "I think you are setting records here for the most visitors!" I wasn't interested in setting any records, but I was thankful. I was blessed. I certainly didn't deserve this amount of grace....this amount of love that was being poured out, but it gave me insight to what God's grace can do when it's displayed through others. It's nothing short of amazing.
Chapter 19
"I've seen thousands of people from all walks of life sitting in the chair that you are in at this moment. I've heard every story in an effort to seek attention, in an effort to get medication, stories that I hear and I filter out the lies and the manipulation. But, young lady, you are the real deal. You are as real as they come. I'm going to do whatever it takes to help you." I had waited in a chair that sat outside the psychiatrist's office where they told me to wait my turn, and I wondered what this doctor would say to me. Would he give me some 'happy pills' and dismiss me so that he could get through the long list of patients to be seen? I never dreamed that those would be the words I would hear. I told him of my hormonal imbalance and what Dr. W had told me about my neuron receptors. He told me that due to his little knowledge of hormones, he would call Dr. W and they would decide together what would be the most effective treatment. He explained that literally a portion of my brain had "shut down" several days before and would like to do 'shock therapy' to "restart" it, but they no longer did shock therapy at this facility. Instead, he would start me on Ritalin, which would do the same thing. He explained that with ADHD patients, it calms them. With others, it "revs" them up and gives the brain a jump start. He looked directly in my eyes and said, "Kim, are you feeling shame for what's happened?" I cried and he let me cry for several minutes before he spoke again. "Let me ask you something. Would you feel shame if you had suffered a heart attack Saturday night?" "No. But I wouldn't be locked up in the hospital if I had had a heart attack either." "You are very sick. You've had absolutely no control over what has happened in your life over the past several months. No more than if your heart was failing and you had a massive heart attack," he said. "I want you to remember that." I left with a glimmer of hope. This man is going to help me. The row of people waiting to be seen had increased quite a bit. They watched me as I walked to my room. Jay caught my eye. He smiled at me. I felt a twinge of guilt for being so rude yesterday.
At 10am the loudspeaker sounded again. "The west wing patients need to report to the lounge for 'group'". I would be going to group. The doctor made it very clear that I would be going. My roommate got out of bed, grunted something as she walked out of the room. A knock on the door. "Come on Kim. Group time. I'll show you where it's at." It was sweet Juanita. I'm a bit curious to see some of these other patients. I want to hear their 'crazy' stories.
There were about 15 people sitting in the chairs outlining the lounge area. I knew this room. This is where the 2 phones are. They had been taken off the hook for the meeting. They dangled by their short little cords. I remained oblivious to the reasoning. The leader of the group welcomed me and introduced himself as Ron. He was outgoing, in his 40's, and called all by name. He did this twice a day and knew these people well. I recognized several. I didn't know their names, but I knew their faces. Except Jay. I knew his name. And there's the sweet lady in the wheelchair. If she told me her name, it escaped me. And then there's my roommate. I don't even know her name. That day, I refer to her as "well rested".
I listened as each told their story of what brought them here, many of which were 'repeat' patients. Each account was different. Some cried. Some were visibly angry. Some were obviously 'drugged', slurring their words as they spoke. As I listened, I felt a strange sense of connection come over me. I was no better than any one of these people. At least for now, I am one of them. My heart began to soften. Ron said,"Kim, can you tell us what got you in this place?" I began to tell my story. I cried. My mind was still foggy, but I told the details as I remembered them. As I spoke, it felt strangely safe. When I was finished, I kept my head down. A voice I didn't recognize said, "Wow. Thank you for sharing that. I've seen you walk around for the past 2 days and saw your pain, but now I understand." He was an older gentleman that had spoken of an unfortunate bout with medication addiction and his battle with depression. After group was over, my roommate came to me, hugged me and said, "My name is Kay. Thank you for sharing. I'm here if you need me." Earlier she had told of her battle with alcohol dependence. She admitted herself. She wanted help. She was tearing her family apart and she genuinely wanted help. Jay walked toward me. He had spoken of his family having him admitted to this place. They said that he was acting 'odd'. His family caught him burning money and doing some other inappropriate things, like eating leaves. He spoke with articulation that showed exceptional intelligence. He was soft spoken and oozed with gentleness. As he approached me, I could see his hesitance as he held out his hand. I took his hand in both of mine and said, "I'm Kim." He smiled, "and I'm Jay. It's nice to meet you, Kim". I knew that an apology wasn't necessary. There was an unspoken understanding between us....between all of us.
At 10am the loudspeaker sounded again. "The west wing patients need to report to the lounge for 'group'". I would be going to group. The doctor made it very clear that I would be going. My roommate got out of bed, grunted something as she walked out of the room. A knock on the door. "Come on Kim. Group time. I'll show you where it's at." It was sweet Juanita. I'm a bit curious to see some of these other patients. I want to hear their 'crazy' stories.
There were about 15 people sitting in the chairs outlining the lounge area. I knew this room. This is where the 2 phones are. They had been taken off the hook for the meeting. They dangled by their short little cords. I remained oblivious to the reasoning. The leader of the group welcomed me and introduced himself as Ron. He was outgoing, in his 40's, and called all by name. He did this twice a day and knew these people well. I recognized several. I didn't know their names, but I knew their faces. Except Jay. I knew his name. And there's the sweet lady in the wheelchair. If she told me her name, it escaped me. And then there's my roommate. I don't even know her name. That day, I refer to her as "well rested".
I listened as each told their story of what brought them here, many of which were 'repeat' patients. Each account was different. Some cried. Some were visibly angry. Some were obviously 'drugged', slurring their words as they spoke. As I listened, I felt a strange sense of connection come over me. I was no better than any one of these people. At least for now, I am one of them. My heart began to soften. Ron said,"Kim, can you tell us what got you in this place?" I began to tell my story. I cried. My mind was still foggy, but I told the details as I remembered them. As I spoke, it felt strangely safe. When I was finished, I kept my head down. A voice I didn't recognize said, "Wow. Thank you for sharing that. I've seen you walk around for the past 2 days and saw your pain, but now I understand." He was an older gentleman that had spoken of an unfortunate bout with medication addiction and his battle with depression. After group was over, my roommate came to me, hugged me and said, "My name is Kay. Thank you for sharing. I'm here if you need me." Earlier she had told of her battle with alcohol dependence. She admitted herself. She wanted help. She was tearing her family apart and she genuinely wanted help. Jay walked toward me. He had spoken of his family having him admitted to this place. They said that he was acting 'odd'. His family caught him burning money and doing some other inappropriate things, like eating leaves. He spoke with articulation that showed exceptional intelligence. He was soft spoken and oozed with gentleness. As he approached me, I could see his hesitance as he held out his hand. I took his hand in both of mine and said, "I'm Kim." He smiled, "and I'm Jay. It's nice to meet you, Kim". I knew that an apology wasn't necessary. There was an unspoken understanding between us....between all of us.
Chapter 18
"I only came because I felt like I should, Kim. I wasn't ready to see you." I know Mark was being honest with me, but it killed me to hear those words. He was angry and confused. He had been lied to and manipulated for several days by the one person he loved and trusted more than anyone on the planet. It had not been an easy marriage, but after 28 years we were best friends and closer than ever. He tried to protect me the past several weeks and felt like a failure. He was hurt at the core of who he was as a man, as a husband. When the doors closed behind him, I was left with the reality that I may have lost him. That was a reality that I could not face.
I found the phones again and began making calls. As I was talking to a friend, a 'tough' looking African-American woman came up to me and said "Your time is up. It's my turn to use the phone. You need to get off!" Ok, so to say that it was uncharacteristic of me to reply the way I did would be an understatement, but I was out of my mind, right? "Get outta here! I'll be off in a minute!" I walked back to my room and I could feel the stares. I was not making friends fast, but this would not be a place I would make friends. Or so I thought.
As I walked into my room, I smelled cigarettes and alcohol and heard the sound of either a train or a loud snore, not sure. Huh oh, wrong room. I quickly walked out and looked at the hand written names posted on the door. No, it was my room. But there's another name there as well. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, it did. The tears began to flow again as I sat on the floor in the hall outside of my room. I'm not sure, but I think I felt the wall shake with her every breath. Really, Lord? Really?
Dinner came and went. I sat in the dining room but ate nothing. I had no appetite. A younger gal, about 35 years old, came and sat next to me at the table. She introduced herself as Pam. She appeared comfortable in this place. She knew everyone by name. She had a sweet spirit about her. She had obviously been in this place for some time. I answered her questions but had nothing more to offer. She certainly appeared pretty 'normal'. I wondered what her story was.
As I walked back to my room, my eyes caught glimpse of a woman sitting in a wheelchair. She gently grabbed my hand. I stopped and looked at her. She slowly stood up and held her arms out. "I've been wanting to do this all day." She hugged me as though she understood my pain. She held me tightly as I sobbed. I could feel the eyes of those around us, but I didn't care. This was exactly what I needed at this very moment.
Journal entry, Sunday night, 10pm:
I got to see my sister in law and a few friends tonight during the visiting hour. I needed to see familiar faces that still love me. It was so difficult to tell them good-bye. I never knew I could feel so lonely. God, get me through this night, and then tomorrow. How do I live through tomorrow? How do I come out of this ok? I am so very alone in this place. I'm so scared.
Journal entry, Monday morning, 6am:
I have decided that I'm not going to make any phone calls today. It's just me and God today. I cannot believe I'm at this place in my life, but I am. God, it's just me and you today. Please make yourself very known to me. I am seeking you. Please allow me to feel the stroke of your hand. So I lay here in this bed next to a woman on the other bed that I don't know, who sounds as though when she coughs, her lung is going to hit me in the side of face. Yep, this is rock bottom. The only way is up.
I found the phones again and began making calls. As I was talking to a friend, a 'tough' looking African-American woman came up to me and said "Your time is up. It's my turn to use the phone. You need to get off!" Ok, so to say that it was uncharacteristic of me to reply the way I did would be an understatement, but I was out of my mind, right? "Get outta here! I'll be off in a minute!" I walked back to my room and I could feel the stares. I was not making friends fast, but this would not be a place I would make friends. Or so I thought.
As I walked into my room, I smelled cigarettes and alcohol and heard the sound of either a train or a loud snore, not sure. Huh oh, wrong room. I quickly walked out and looked at the hand written names posted on the door. No, it was my room. But there's another name there as well. Just when I thought my day couldn't get any worse, it did. The tears began to flow again as I sat on the floor in the hall outside of my room. I'm not sure, but I think I felt the wall shake with her every breath. Really, Lord? Really?
Dinner came and went. I sat in the dining room but ate nothing. I had no appetite. A younger gal, about 35 years old, came and sat next to me at the table. She introduced herself as Pam. She appeared comfortable in this place. She knew everyone by name. She had a sweet spirit about her. She had obviously been in this place for some time. I answered her questions but had nothing more to offer. She certainly appeared pretty 'normal'. I wondered what her story was.
As I walked back to my room, my eyes caught glimpse of a woman sitting in a wheelchair. She gently grabbed my hand. I stopped and looked at her. She slowly stood up and held her arms out. "I've been wanting to do this all day." She hugged me as though she understood my pain. She held me tightly as I sobbed. I could feel the eyes of those around us, but I didn't care. This was exactly what I needed at this very moment.
Journal entry, Sunday night, 10pm:
I got to see my sister in law and a few friends tonight during the visiting hour. I needed to see familiar faces that still love me. It was so difficult to tell them good-bye. I never knew I could feel so lonely. God, get me through this night, and then tomorrow. How do I live through tomorrow? How do I come out of this ok? I am so very alone in this place. I'm so scared.
Journal entry, Monday morning, 6am:
I have decided that I'm not going to make any phone calls today. It's just me and God today. I cannot believe I'm at this place in my life, but I am. God, it's just me and you today. Please make yourself very known to me. I am seeking you. Please allow me to feel the stroke of your hand. So I lay here in this bed next to a woman on the other bed that I don't know, who sounds as though when she coughs, her lung is going to hit me in the side of face. Yep, this is rock bottom. The only way is up.
Chapter 17
*The names of those that touched my life in the psych facility have been changed in the story for their privacy.
The announcement over the speakers startled me. It was so loud. 'All residents on the west wing need to come to the dining room for breakfast'. I wouldn't be going. I had no appetite whatsoever. I would just continue journaling. The hallway that was silent earlier now was filled with voices. I continued to write. After several minutes, it was quiet again. Someone knocked on my door and then opened it. "Kim. You need to come down the hall for breakfast." She had a very kind voice with an accent of some sort. I loved accents. In my normal state of mind, I loved to joke around and talk in various accents. Not today. She came beside my bed. She took my hand and I immediately began to cry. "I would rather not go if that's ok. I would like to just stay here in my room." She introduced herself as Juanita. Her big brown eyes looked at me with such compassion. "Please come to the dining room. They keep a close record of who does and does not go to various activities and it will only keep you here longer. It will help you to be around others." "No thank you, Juanita. I can't be around anyone right now." She looked disappointed and said, "Ok, I will bring you some food so that you can eat. You need to eat." I reluctantly agreed. I couldn't say no to this sweet thing that was trying to reach out to me.
I needed to talk to my friends. I needed to hear a familiar voice. I needed to know that they didn't hate me. My mind was replaying every minute of what I could remember from the night before. I couldn't believe it really happened. I lost my mind. How does a christian woman that has everything in life going for her lose her mind? Did my Lord allow it to happen? Did He choose for it to happen? As I tried to sort it out, it became very clear to me that my mind was still not right. I was now not only hopeless beyond comprehension, but I was also ashamed, embarrassed, and angry. I would go look for a phone. I wrapped up in a blanket that was on the bed and left the room. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was leaving. I looked so old. My face was drawn, my eyes were swollen. Wow Kim, I thought, you truly are at rock bottom.
As I walked down the hall, people stared. I kept my head down and cried. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I wasn't interested in making acquaintances. I just wanted to find a phone. A young man, probably about 20 years old, put his hand out, "I'm Jay." I looked at him and kept walking. I know it was rude, but for some reason, today I didn't care.
I got out my list and picked up the phone. OK.....I wouldn't be going far. The cord was about 6 inches long. Hmmm....that's inconvenient. The reasoning behind that never entered my cluttered mind. I began to go down the list. No one answered. They were probably in church, right? I left them messages, pathetic messages.
It was 1pm, a special visiting hour that they had only on Sundays. Otherwise, only once per day at 6pm. How in the world am I going to do this? How can I not see my kids? What if no one comes to see me? The horrible feeling of abandonment came over me. This wasn't something I brought on myself, was it? Is this really what my Lord had planned for me? This is it? Some are taken through terrible life crisis, but shame and dishonor are not a part of their story. Terrible heartbreak, yes...but are they left with a feeling of the loneliness that I was feeling today? Maybe so. All I know is that my life will be different from this point on. Others will look at me differently. I can't blame them for that, heck I'm not sure that I'll be able to look in the mirror again without being disgusted. But I guess that's the price I pay for trying to end my life. It hurts people. It leaves them scarred. How do I get through this? How can this place possibly help me? An announcement over the loud speaker, "Kim B, report to the dining room. You have a visitor." My heart lept. I almost ran to the dining room. Mark was sitting by himself. He looked wiped out. His eyes were swollen and wet.
The announcement over the speakers startled me. It was so loud. 'All residents on the west wing need to come to the dining room for breakfast'. I wouldn't be going. I had no appetite whatsoever. I would just continue journaling. The hallway that was silent earlier now was filled with voices. I continued to write. After several minutes, it was quiet again. Someone knocked on my door and then opened it. "Kim. You need to come down the hall for breakfast." She had a very kind voice with an accent of some sort. I loved accents. In my normal state of mind, I loved to joke around and talk in various accents. Not today. She came beside my bed. She took my hand and I immediately began to cry. "I would rather not go if that's ok. I would like to just stay here in my room." She introduced herself as Juanita. Her big brown eyes looked at me with such compassion. "Please come to the dining room. They keep a close record of who does and does not go to various activities and it will only keep you here longer. It will help you to be around others." "No thank you, Juanita. I can't be around anyone right now." She looked disappointed and said, "Ok, I will bring you some food so that you can eat. You need to eat." I reluctantly agreed. I couldn't say no to this sweet thing that was trying to reach out to me.
I needed to talk to my friends. I needed to hear a familiar voice. I needed to know that they didn't hate me. My mind was replaying every minute of what I could remember from the night before. I couldn't believe it really happened. I lost my mind. How does a christian woman that has everything in life going for her lose her mind? Did my Lord allow it to happen? Did He choose for it to happen? As I tried to sort it out, it became very clear to me that my mind was still not right. I was now not only hopeless beyond comprehension, but I was also ashamed, embarrassed, and angry. I would go look for a phone. I wrapped up in a blanket that was on the bed and left the room. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was leaving. I looked so old. My face was drawn, my eyes were swollen. Wow Kim, I thought, you truly are at rock bottom.
As I walked down the hall, people stared. I kept my head down and cried. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I wasn't interested in making acquaintances. I just wanted to find a phone. A young man, probably about 20 years old, put his hand out, "I'm Jay." I looked at him and kept walking. I know it was rude, but for some reason, today I didn't care.
I got out my list and picked up the phone. OK.....I wouldn't be going far. The cord was about 6 inches long. Hmmm....that's inconvenient. The reasoning behind that never entered my cluttered mind. I began to go down the list. No one answered. They were probably in church, right? I left them messages, pathetic messages.
It was 1pm, a special visiting hour that they had only on Sundays. Otherwise, only once per day at 6pm. How in the world am I going to do this? How can I not see my kids? What if no one comes to see me? The horrible feeling of abandonment came over me. This wasn't something I brought on myself, was it? Is this really what my Lord had planned for me? This is it? Some are taken through terrible life crisis, but shame and dishonor are not a part of their story. Terrible heartbreak, yes...but are they left with a feeling of the loneliness that I was feeling today? Maybe so. All I know is that my life will be different from this point on. Others will look at me differently. I can't blame them for that, heck I'm not sure that I'll be able to look in the mirror again without being disgusted. But I guess that's the price I pay for trying to end my life. It hurts people. It leaves them scarred. How do I get through this? How can this place possibly help me? An announcement over the loud speaker, "Kim B, report to the dining room. You have a visitor." My heart lept. I almost ran to the dining room. Mark was sitting by himself. He looked wiped out. His eyes were swollen and wet.
Chapter 16
I need to write. I need to journal. The past few months, journaling had become my outlet. My mind was not right but my thoughts seemed to come together when I wrote them down. I remembered a paperback book they gave me hours earlier. It was a "patient guide". Information about the nuthouse. I opened it up. I could write in the spaces. I could write in between the lines. I went to the nurses station and asked for a pencil. It was dull and it was about 2 inches long. The reasoning behind that didn't cross my mind at the time. It would later.
Journal entry, Sunday morning, November 1st
I can't believe I'm here. I'm in a psych unit. The doors are locked to the outside. I stare at the piece of paper that Robyn gave me with with a list of phone numbers on it. She wrote them down in the ER last night when we were told that I wouldn't be allowed to have my cell phone with me once I got here. I'm in a psych unit. I'm not allowed any personal items. I didn't have any place to put my contacts last night, so I wore them to bed. I don't know what time it is. There is no clock. I can't help but wonder just how much Mark hates me for what I put him through last night. I wonder what my friends must feel after seeing what used to be a kinda together woman completely lose it right in front of them. I had every intention of ending my life. I had enough pills to do the trick in a matter of minutes. When I heard sirens, I felt myself go crazy inside. I don't think I've ever been that scared. I knew my plan was completely busted. I would look like a fool for the rest of my life, at least to those that were there last night. I just wanted to be with my Lord. I wanted to feel His face against mine. But what about my precious children? What must they be feeling? I can't go there right now. What my family and friends must be thinking today. How disappointed in me they must be. They believed in me, in what I stood for. I had let them down. But worst of all, how disappointed my Lord must be in me. You trusted me with this journey and I blew it. I'm so sorry. So now I'm left looking at these blank walls and I'm so full of shame. I wish that I would have succeeded. Perhaps I would be held in my Savior's arms. Perhaps I would be dancing with my precious Molly.
I needed coffee. I went to the nurses station just a few feet from my room and asked where I might get some coffee. They pointed down the hall. I began to walk where they had directed me. The tears began to flow. There weren't very many people around. It must be early. I found the coffee, poured a cup and went back to my room. This is surreal. This does not happen to "normal" women. I remember my clinical rotation in a locked down psych unit. I knew I did not want to be a psych nurse. I didn't know how to talk to 'crazy' people. I felt sorry for them, but did not want to try to relate to them. After all, I was normal. Hmmmm....normal. I'm not so sure what that means anymore. The walk that I just took down the hall told me that I was no longer 'normal'. I had lost my mind. I just couldn't quite grasp any part of that, not right now.
Journal entry, Sunday morning, November 1st
I can't believe I'm here. I'm in a psych unit. The doors are locked to the outside. I stare at the piece of paper that Robyn gave me with with a list of phone numbers on it. She wrote them down in the ER last night when we were told that I wouldn't be allowed to have my cell phone with me once I got here. I'm in a psych unit. I'm not allowed any personal items. I didn't have any place to put my contacts last night, so I wore them to bed. I don't know what time it is. There is no clock. I can't help but wonder just how much Mark hates me for what I put him through last night. I wonder what my friends must feel after seeing what used to be a kinda together woman completely lose it right in front of them. I had every intention of ending my life. I had enough pills to do the trick in a matter of minutes. When I heard sirens, I felt myself go crazy inside. I don't think I've ever been that scared. I knew my plan was completely busted. I would look like a fool for the rest of my life, at least to those that were there last night. I just wanted to be with my Lord. I wanted to feel His face against mine. But what about my precious children? What must they be feeling? I can't go there right now. What my family and friends must be thinking today. How disappointed in me they must be. They believed in me, in what I stood for. I had let them down. But worst of all, how disappointed my Lord must be in me. You trusted me with this journey and I blew it. I'm so sorry. So now I'm left looking at these blank walls and I'm so full of shame. I wish that I would have succeeded. Perhaps I would be held in my Savior's arms. Perhaps I would be dancing with my precious Molly.
I needed coffee. I went to the nurses station just a few feet from my room and asked where I might get some coffee. They pointed down the hall. I began to walk where they had directed me. The tears began to flow. There weren't very many people around. It must be early. I found the coffee, poured a cup and went back to my room. This is surreal. This does not happen to "normal" women. I remember my clinical rotation in a locked down psych unit. I knew I did not want to be a psych nurse. I didn't know how to talk to 'crazy' people. I felt sorry for them, but did not want to try to relate to them. After all, I was normal. Hmmmm....normal. I'm not so sure what that means anymore. The walk that I just took down the hall told me that I was no longer 'normal'. I had lost my mind. I just couldn't quite grasp any part of that, not right now.
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