- User type
- OCD Conqueror
- Date posted
- 2y
I wrote this when I got out of the mental hospital
45 minutes vs a lifetime “You are the most sane person to come in and out of here” - the Mental Health Tech Yet there I was walking out the door and never wanting to look back at the longest and most agonizing 5 days of my life. But yet it haunts me every day. How did I get here? I had my life together. I had the job, the supportive and loving family and friends, I was in grad school for something I knew I saw a future with. “I would have never guessed you” - Friends Mental Illness doesn’t present like a broken foot or a skin rash. No one can see it, no one can feel it. Instead it eats away at you internally until you finally hit rock bottom. Which I did, twice plus 4 months prior. “I don’t want to be alive” “I’d rather be dead than be having these thoughts” - Me “You’re just stressed and overwhelmed, it’ll get better” “you don’t need help” “you’ll overcome this by yourself” “Everyone gets anxiety” -Everyone Did they not just hear me.... I don’t want to be alive (red flag) - Me Nothing to mess with. “You’re being selfish” “Do you want the attention”- People Yuppppp I wanted the attention so bad that I checked myself into a mental hospital. I would not wish that on my worst enemy. The first day: Cried, prayed, cursed God out, cried, prayed, cursed God out even more. Begged that I made the wrong decision. (God and me were definitely not friends at this moment) I shouldn’t be here. (Well you are, so suck it up buttercup) Oh by the way I sat in my hospital gown for the first three hours. So great everyone’s staring at me and I feel uncomfortable. These people weren’t gonna help me. I’m gonna die. This is it. Oh by the way this place was jail. If I had ever pictured jail, this was it. Thank God for Shonda Rhimes book for getting me through the long hours and all the Hail Marys I said. Second day: Groups. All we did was groups. An OCD patient doing groups is the equivalent to a drug addict getting his drugs. Every story I heard I grasped on too, I convinced myself that I hurt these people, that this was my fault. That I was the worst person on the planet. GROUPS make OCD patients more anxious and feed into their problem. Begged to get out of there. But then what? I end up right back here in a week because I still have no diagnosis and the only terms that were being thrown around for me was “anxiety and depression” Me depressed? No. I was the happiest person I knew. Anxious? Yes. But not like the anxiety that runs in my family. Called my mom bawling. If I leave, then what? I die. Met with Jack (my social worker): he presents me with 2 OCD tests. I score off the charts for 1 and the 2nd one Jack hands me I can’t even get myself to take it because it makes me that upset Finally I met with a psych. Who to this day I could hug and I owe her my life. Side note: prior to this my Mom(my literal angel) called 10 psychiatrists before my hospitalization, 8 weren’t taking new patients and 2 could see me but in July. Oh and did I mention a month prior to this hospitalization I was admitted to silver cross for the same reason. Hmm I think our system is broken... I can’t and won’t go into detail about the thoughts I had. But my OCD doesn’t present as hand washing or counting (SO WE NEVER THOUGHT OCD, IT DIDNT MEET THE STEREOTYPE) mine are god awful, crippling, disturbing thoughts that I describe as a record that just keeps skipping. I can’t seem to hit next. I had to stop driving because I thought I was hitting people and would have to drive back to make sure no one was lying on the ground. Saw something on the news, oh I’m sure I did that. 45 minutes. That’s all it took. 45 minutes for my doctor to diagnosis me with extreme OCD. What a relief. What a godsend. Thank you God. Yeah I’m thanking God for my OCD. Wanna know why? I wouldn’t be alive if I did not get a diagnosis. I wouldn’t be typing this. Welp i still had 3 days left in the mental hospital. I have a diagnosis, so now what? I don’t feel any better. My thoughts still suck and can go to hell. Plan of action: take the meds, go to groups, pray a shit ton and for the love of God keep your head above water because this experience could destroy anybody. I’ll never forget the people I met in there, some of the kindest souls with the biggest hearts who just wanted to save their lives just like me. Looking around I was no different, no better, no worse. We hit rock bottom because of something tragic, genetic, life altering, etc. But the most important thing of all, God loved each and every one of us that was in there the same. So I go home. Let’s go back to “you’re the most sane person to ever come in and out of here” Well was I? Does that really matter? Does this defy me as a human being now? How could anybody love a crazy person? Day 12 on my medication was the day I finally had life back in my eyes. It was a Friday morning. I didn’t feel like a zombie anymore. My mom still remembers it and I will forever remember it. It was like a switch in my brain. Oh by the way. As my Dad who is a tough guy sat in my chair in my bedroom the night I went into the hospital and said bawling “this is our only option, I need my Mandy back, we have to go” and as my mom cried for months straight prior as well as everyday I was in there , this I’m sure was the hardest thing for my parents to ever have to do. And I will forever be grateful for them. They are the tough ones as well as my other half and sister. I wish everyone could have a family like mine. And not to mention all my friends who knew that I needed help and reached out and did everything they could for me. I see my therapist once a week, I take medication which I may have to take forever and I use a LOT of coping skills. People still have to walk me off the edge when my OCD gets bad (I am so grateful to have people to do that) I pray a lot more I pray that we start to get more resources to help others I pray that our world becomes kinder and less judgmental OCD made me better in many ways. I learned a lot and I will continue to learn a lot as long as that means I can help others just like me . . . *4 years later I finished grad school, I’m married and having my first baby* don’t give up ❤️