Discharge

Everyone always talks about the inpatient experience but very few talk about the discharge experience and what it feels like to be home. 

I was discharged on the Thursday afternoon, as I wanted to be home for church on Good Friday. I felt relieved to be home but then I felt like I didn't fit. I felt like I had actually jumped out of life only to have missed a week. All my friends and family had jumped in to help where it was needed but when it came to me getting out of hospital, it felt like everything should be back to normal and everyone went back to their usual routines. I guess I felt missed. 

While in hospital you have your assigned nurse every shift, the 2 day shifts will check on you a couple if times during the shift to make sure you are okay and if I needed anything they are the person to see about it. Plus, during my stay, I had people messaging me to see how I was going, checking in with me again, stepping in to help Aaron with the kids. Then it just all stopped. I was discharged and all the extra time and care just disappeared and I felt lost. 

I guess it sounds selfish and very egocentric yet the change took me by surprise. I think it has been made harder by the conversations Aaron and I have been having regarding separation and the final logistics of all that. It is a long weekend and I can't get to see Helen til Wednesday evening. 

I remember on Thursday night I was having a lot of anxiety about going to church and all my friends surrounding me  and all vieing for my attention and them wanting to say great to see you etc and I would be overwhelmed and saying too many people. Yet, reality is people don't crowd you. They are respectful and give you space, they want you to know they care about you but they also don't want to make a big fuss. 

It is such a strange thing, our minds. We get ourself worked up to an expected outcome, even though you fear it to a degree you are deflated by reality. Reality is far more comfortable and reasonable and yet it just didn't meet your expectations. I guess it just shows how much I need to work on living in reality instead of my head! 

Admission

It appears the ward is somewhat like a magnifying glass, highlighting your areas of weakness and maximizing your insecurities. 

I am finding myself to be highly anxious in this environment surrounded by various crazy people, me included. Not knowing which way to turn and who to trust. I am finding the nurses so overtly sincere it borders on pretense. 

It is such a bizarre environment to be in and I find myself hiding from the world, internally and externally. Tied up in knots trying to figure out which part belongs where. The paranoia of being unsafe and the ironic perceived protection from pieces of fabric draped around my given space. 

Surely evil can't invade past these enchanted drapes! Yet, they provide my desired isolation from all that lurks beyond, though never fully acknowledging the things I run from are inside my head.  

Seeking Help

I find it very hard to ask for help, to say what I feeling. I have great friends who are able to be there for me and yet I find myself sitting in the Emergency room awaiting admission to the psyche ward. All because I believe it is too hard to ask for help. 

One of the strongest false beliefs I have is that of being too much for people to handle. I find it so easy to be there for them and to give gifts to show how much I care for them, yet I can't tell them how I truly feel. I can't utter the words 'I can't do this anymore' because what can they really do to help? I love hanging out with my friends, and probably do so far more than I should, but the journey of healing is a lonely one. It is I who must walk alone. It is I who deals with the demons torment during the long hours of night. 

I don't know what all this means other than I am seeing how important it is to be honest. To ask for what you need, even when we are sure it is far too much to ask. It is far better to have a friend say 'I don't know how to help' with a firm hug than it is sitting in hospital without anyone around. 

I feel like such a failure. Truly battling this lowest point in my life. I just hope there is an upwards turn from this point. The Lord knows I need it, I just have to start to believe I deserve it. 

My sacrificial offering is learning to use the pain to breakthrough into all that Jesus has for me. To trust when I don't know how. To take a step when I want to quit. To believe when I can't see hope beyond a few seconds.