Hospitalized...
I was admitted to the hospital's psych ward last Tuesday after being 'voluntold' to admit myself by my Therapist; this after texting my spouse suicidal messages thru out the day. I had every intention of caring out my threats so perhaps it was a necessary action. I was very frustrated, angry, bitter, enraged, depressed, and finally in disbelief that everything had caved in suddenly. I spent my time there reflecting, wondering what just happened, thinking of all the events that led to this downfall. Hearing other's accounts/stories why they were there - I have to admit that there are indeed others that have it far, far worse than I do and I really don't have any reason to be depressed; not sure if this is an example of how weak I am or how strong they are...I guess everyone's threshold of pain - be it physical or emotional - are on different levels. I met a woman who from a distance, looked like she had flesh colored stockings on w/vertical stripes - only to find out when she was closer that it was fresh scars that she carved on her legs and arms. Life's scars truly tell a much deeper story than tatoos ever will...
I felt like a toddler put in an extended 'time-out'; held captive like a prisoner of war. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, lost, confused, degraded, and not to forget the obvious - depressed. Time was frozen in that compound; it had little to no relevance. Restlessness & anxiety started to build as the weekend approached. Any outward expressions of these emotions might have awarded me an extended stay which would have further exacerbated the situation...
Although my suicidal thoughts have subdued, I feel this is temporary. I'm not optimistic that my depression will be defeated or even held at arms length even if I win these battles. I'm in a fight for a mere existance/survival; possessing a happy, productive life is only a dream in my conscious state - it's all I think of when I'm awake... Sooner or later depression will win - catching me, penetrating my defenses, and tagging me with a one punch knock-out...
I felt like a toddler put in an extended 'time-out'; held captive like a prisoner of war. I felt ashamed, embarrassed, lost, confused, degraded, and not to forget the obvious - depressed. Time was frozen in that compound; it had little to no relevance. Restlessness & anxiety started to build as the weekend approached. Any outward expressions of these emotions might have awarded me an extended stay which would have further exacerbated the situation...
Although my suicidal thoughts have subdued, I feel this is temporary. I'm not optimistic that my depression will be defeated or even held at arms length even if I win these battles. I'm in a fight for a mere existance/survival; possessing a happy, productive life is only a dream in my conscious state - it's all I think of when I'm awake... Sooner or later depression will win - catching me, penetrating my defenses, and tagging me with a one punch knock-out...
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