Well, Sunday night my husband took me back to the ER and they put me back in the hospital. I've been inpatient until tonight, and I start the outpatient program tomorrow, will go all next week, and probably the next. I'm on all new medicine, one of which my insurance needs a doctor's override to pay for. We though we might get it anyway, but it cost $529 for a month! No, that's not a typo.
I am feeling better. The depression is lifting.
I also called my mom from there and told her how I felt about her letting my sister quit having anything to do with me, and I felt like I'd been cut out of the family for the last twelve years. She denied it until I reminded her I only see her once a year, and I've never seen any of my sister's seven grandchildren. She said she was going to "fix that." I also asked her if she loved me. She said you know I love you. I said no you never say it. Not my whole life. So she told me she loved me about three times.
Then last night, she and my sister came to visit at the hospital. My sister and I talked and I told her I wanted us to be sister's again. She agreed, and seemed really genuine. Both of them hugged me and told me they loved me.
Well, I have a lot to do tonight before I have to go back to the outpatient program tomorrow, so I'll try to write more over the weekend. Thanks for all the kind comments.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Still in the Woods
I have found out a couple of things that may have contributed to my going downhill so quickly. One-my regular doc put me on Singular three weeks before I went in the hospital (which the hospital immediately took me off) and it has been linked to depression and suicide. Second, my blood pressure was so low in the hospital, they took me off my blood pressure medicine and it's still low. So I didn't need that, and low blood pressure makes you feel crappy.
Plus, I went in the hospital with what I thought was a UTI, which they treated with three weeks of antibiotics. To make a long story short, they are still finding massive amounts of white blood cells in my pee, and want me to see a urologist August 15th. They said it could be a lot of things, but didn't really say what.
Somehow it makes me feel better to know that it wasn't all mental, but some of it was physical, too.
The psych is still trying meds, and I see him again Tuesday. I left the house for the first time today (except for dr appts) and that was to see my dad. I sat down and talked with my step-mom for hours and I cried and she cried. Then I hugged my dad three times and told him I love him twice, and he replied he loved me, too. Then she hugged me and said she loved me, and I told her I love her, too. Then I realized I do love her. I came home and slept all afternoon. My husband has been begging me all week to go out to eat, but I haven't felt like going anywhere. I have no appetite. That visit did me good, though.
I started this blog to be honest, and I've always just put it out there. I write to unload as much as I do for anyone else to read. I feel like shit, ya'll. I'm still in the bottom of the well and no rope they've thrown down yet has worked to get me out.
I had a friend I've written about before who killed herself because of depression. I never understood until this time around. You actually think you feel so low that death would feel better. In your mind, you know that's not rational. I keep telling myself that my therapist said I will pull out of this. She said she's seen worse, and they pulled out. But I have to be patient. So I'm still here, being patient, wandering in the forest.
Plus, I went in the hospital with what I thought was a UTI, which they treated with three weeks of antibiotics. To make a long story short, they are still finding massive amounts of white blood cells in my pee, and want me to see a urologist August 15th. They said it could be a lot of things, but didn't really say what.
Somehow it makes me feel better to know that it wasn't all mental, but some of it was physical, too.
The psych is still trying meds, and I see him again Tuesday. I left the house for the first time today (except for dr appts) and that was to see my dad. I sat down and talked with my step-mom for hours and I cried and she cried. Then I hugged my dad three times and told him I love him twice, and he replied he loved me, too. Then she hugged me and said she loved me, and I told her I love her, too. Then I realized I do love her. I came home and slept all afternoon. My husband has been begging me all week to go out to eat, but I haven't felt like going anywhere. I have no appetite. That visit did me good, though.
I started this blog to be honest, and I've always just put it out there. I write to unload as much as I do for anyone else to read. I feel like shit, ya'll. I'm still in the bottom of the well and no rope they've thrown down yet has worked to get me out.
I had a friend I've written about before who killed herself because of depression. I never understood until this time around. You actually think you feel so low that death would feel better. In your mind, you know that's not rational. I keep telling myself that my therapist said I will pull out of this. She said she's seen worse, and they pulled out. But I have to be patient. So I'm still here, being patient, wandering in the forest.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Wandering in the Same Forest
Seems like it's been forever since I posted. I went to see my therapist on June 24th. I knew I hadn't been myself in quite awhile, but thought I could pull myself out of it. When I saw her that day, after about thirty minutes of her probing questions, I admitted I had some thoughts of suicide occasionally. She called my psychiatrist. Then she asked for my husband's cell phone number. I remember telling her that I was meeting him for lunch at 11:30. I have no idea what time that was then.
The next thing I know he came in, and I burst out into tears. He held me a long time while I cried and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kept saying, "It's ok. Don't worry about anything. It's all going to be ok." Then he cried with me.
They sent me to the hospital's behavioral health unit, and I don't remember a lot about how we got there or checking in, except what he told me. I felt like I was sort of disconnected. He said I kept apologizing to everyone.
That was on a Tuesday, and he was allowed to visit Wednesday, and then not again until Saturday. All I did for days was sleep, get up, go to group, go to bed. Sometimes I ate, but mostly I didn't care about eating. I tried to read books he had brought me but ended up reading the same page over and over and gave up. I saw the doctor every day. He changed my meds, re-changed them. I told my husband I didn't want him to tell anyone I was there. I didn't want to worry anyone or see anyone. He did tell my kids and his mom.
I went to the groups unwillingly. It took me awhile to speak in one. The first time I was forced to talk, I had a panic attack and ran out of the room and cried the rest of the afternoon. I don't know what day that was. My husband said I called him crying, but I don't remember that. Just being embarrassed about leaving the room in front of people. I took medicine when they handed it to me, and I stayed in bed a lot.
Now they think they have me on some mixture that will work, but they keep saying I have to give it time. I wish I could say it kicked in and I'm feeling great now, but it hasn't and I don't. I do feel more connected to myself though. Just still very tired.
I finished the outpatient program this week. I begged the doctor not to make me go next week. He said if I could get two appts with the therapist I didn't have to. I did, thanks to my husband making a lot of calls.
I feel numb. I do feel some better than I did. I can read now and concentrate on that. I don't know what else to say. I still feel ashamed of all of this. I now know my labels. I'm "major depressive disorder," and "generalized anxiety." I'm also still wandering in the forest.
The next thing I know he came in, and I burst out into tears. He held me a long time while I cried and said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He kept saying, "It's ok. Don't worry about anything. It's all going to be ok." Then he cried with me.
They sent me to the hospital's behavioral health unit, and I don't remember a lot about how we got there or checking in, except what he told me. I felt like I was sort of disconnected. He said I kept apologizing to everyone.
That was on a Tuesday, and he was allowed to visit Wednesday, and then not again until Saturday. All I did for days was sleep, get up, go to group, go to bed. Sometimes I ate, but mostly I didn't care about eating. I tried to read books he had brought me but ended up reading the same page over and over and gave up. I saw the doctor every day. He changed my meds, re-changed them. I told my husband I didn't want him to tell anyone I was there. I didn't want to worry anyone or see anyone. He did tell my kids and his mom.
I went to the groups unwillingly. It took me awhile to speak in one. The first time I was forced to talk, I had a panic attack and ran out of the room and cried the rest of the afternoon. I don't know what day that was. My husband said I called him crying, but I don't remember that. Just being embarrassed about leaving the room in front of people. I took medicine when they handed it to me, and I stayed in bed a lot.
Now they think they have me on some mixture that will work, but they keep saying I have to give it time. I wish I could say it kicked in and I'm feeling great now, but it hasn't and I don't. I do feel more connected to myself though. Just still very tired.
I finished the outpatient program this week. I begged the doctor not to make me go next week. He said if I could get two appts with the therapist I didn't have to. I did, thanks to my husband making a lot of calls.
I feel numb. I do feel some better than I did. I can read now and concentrate on that. I don't know what else to say. I still feel ashamed of all of this. I now know my labels. I'm "major depressive disorder," and "generalized anxiety." I'm also still wandering in the forest.
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Home Again.
I was hospitalized almost two weeks ago for depression/anxiety. I came home yesterday, but have to go back all next week for the out patient program. I'll go in each morning at 8 and come home at 5. I'm doing ok. Just wanted everyone to know why I haven't been posting. Love you all.
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