Friday, August 31, 2012

72 Hours In A Psych Lockdown

Well, as many of you may know, I tried to commit suicide last Monday. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one's perspective, I was interrupted. But, since I had written my last will (considered a "suicide note") I was taken to a hospital, and after being asked a few times if I were to be released would I attempt to do that again, and when my response was a "hell yeah," I was placed on an involuntary 5150 hold (California speak for lock up in a psych ward)!

More later. I was released today, have lots to say about the "visit" to the "ward" and a lot of comments about who family and friends REALLY are in this world. I was diagnosed with major depressive disorder, and given lots of medication that really helped. Who didn't help, were family, and many of my friends. That was the real shocker. Fortunately, I started a diary when I took the pills to kill myself, and continued it through the hospitalization as well as the psych lock up. I will have a few posts over the next few days (oh, let's not get depressed over Labor Day, LOL), but I am glad to be in my own home with clean sheets and clean clothes, and no more maniacs in the house!!!!!


Tony said...

What the hell?!?!?!? I, of course, had no idea any this transpired. I am so sorry for you Carrie. I had a feeling something was amiss when you quit the job you loved for so many years. I hope you take the time to get yourself together, and recover fully. We may disagree poltically, and you most definately over reacted by personalizing political differences since 2004, but that never changed the fact that you are person I once cared about as a friend. If this was the old days, I would have been on a plane and sitting at your side in the hospital. Get well, get strong, and get back to yourself.

Arno said...

Ah, geez, Carrie...I am so very sorry you have been out-of-sorts like that. I'm happy you are feeling better. If you ever get that way again, please, please talk to someone. In the meantime, let go of all things stressful and aggravating. Let that stuff flow over and away from you. Be a stone in the stream.

Carrie said...

Thanks for your words of support, guys. I don't want to comment on my situation, I am just going to post entries of my diary that will take you all through the entire experience I went through.

But, suffice it to say, as it has been said so many times in the past, my daughter WAS my worst enemy. I am finally over and done with that relationship. It will be explained as I post the entries.

All I can say is that those that were my friends, my daughter did not respond to any inquiries or tell them where I was or give them the code to the psych ward to call me. All I got were rude calls from "family," the same family I had been estranged from for 20 years and only started mending the bridges broken after my uncle died. Guess I was right to have been estranged from them ... they did not have my best interests in their sight, and only concentrated on the lies my daughter fed them.

Seriously, though, I am without my meds, and won't be able to get to a clinic until Tuesday, as of course, I was released on a Friday of a three day weekend, and I can't afford to pay for the meds (the clinic I have been referred to will give them to me free), so I am back to crying and being depressed. But ... I am not hopeless, I now know I have agencies that will help me out for free, give me counseling, see a psychiatrist, get the proper medication, etc. So, I am just braving it through until Tuesday. Wish me luck.

By the way, my really stupid daughter "unfriended" me from Facebook! LOL. Oh, yeah, that's the right move, eh?

Arno said...

Yeah, nearly a month later, and I feel compelled to again comment. I went through my dark days about 25 years ago. This was 10 years after acquiring my disability. I was already well-adapted to, and cool with, my physical self. My darkness came from societal weirdness and "otherness", particularly rejection in the job market with my top-of-the-class college degree. Me and my family were sorely struggling. Nobody saw that, they just figured it was all about losing the use of my legs and some perceived bitterness about it. Oh, yeah, I drank, too.
I sought help from my doctor and over a few weeks I was good to go, and I'll never go back there 'cause now I know how to fight that demon bastard of depression .
I just read some of yours and Bob's blog posts about this, and all of this came back to mind. Don't let the shit drag you down!

Carrie said...

Well, a little more than a week into my recovery, I am doing rather well. I am taking the meds which have helped tremendously with the mood. Although I don't have much of a range of emotions, at least I don't have the depth of the depression. As for the alcohol, I've had to go the "clean and sober" route, as they don't mesh with the meds. Also, for me, given my addiction propensity, I will not be one of those people that can have a drink now and then. It's all or nothing for me, so it has to be nothing. Thus far, the only signs of withdrawal are a slight shaking of the hands, and that is only on occasion, it's not a daily or regular thing. All in all, everyone that has seen me or talked to me post attempt have said how radically different I appear or sound from my "old self." I may not be in the utmost happy state, but I am a far cry from the person that attempted to kill herself a few weeks ago. Hell, I even made it through my grandson's birthday (9/13) without becoming a total basket case, given the fact that I am now on the shit list insofar as having any ability to contact him or see him or even talk to him. (I did send him a birthday card). Baby steps, and the old "one day at a time" seems to be working for me.