A Side Trip to the Loony Bin

I know I've written before that I live with mental illness but I am not sure how much I've shared about my story but today I want to share just a small clip of time in my life. A time when all of my mental illness stars aligned and I landed in the Loony Bin! Yes, I called it the Loony Bin, it's MY story and that is the term I am using for the wonderful psychiatric hospital that almost certainly saved my life. Why call it the Loony Bin? For ME it makes it a less scary place; easier to tell people about. I find it makes other people more comfortable when I tell my story, makes them want to share their story. That said, I will continue with this part of MY story.

Up and Down, Down and Up, I had no idea what was happening day in and day out. Even now I have very few memories, that are clear and correct about how I ended up in the emergency room of my local hospital and later inside a room at a psychiatric hospital. 

It had been a crazy few weeks, months really, I was still deep in a depression and grieving the death of my father (on like year three by this point), I was living the high of winning an election for a local school board seat (crushing a twelve year incumbent), trying to still be an awesome SHM and oh yeah, dealing with a looming audit from my three years as PTO president of my children's elementary school. Oh wait, I forgot to mention that I was doing this all as a person living with  mental illness, my diagnosis, depression, anxiety & bipolar I. That's right, I've admitted all that right here! I have a mental illness (and what it is), I had a break down & I spent time in the hospital for it. Take that! This is who I am. 

Now back to my trip. I arrived at the hospital after midnight, finally transferred from the ER where I has spent about six hours waiting to be processed. Six hours in the ER where I never spent a moment alone. Weird thing about being in the hospital for a psych eval, they watch you like a hawk, they even go to the bathroom with you! They send a slue of doctors and nurses in to ask you questions, the same questions. Some are easier to answer and share then others, for example, people cannot help but look at you when you describe your plan for ending your life. And they almost all ask the same question after you share your plan and that's WHY? Why do you want to end your life? WHY?!?!?! I don't know! If I could tell you that I think I'd not be here! I don't know WHY only how. Other than the questions and being "watched" (which is an awesome feeling when you're paranoid), I really don't remember too much detail. I did finally get to the psychiatric hospital though. 

I was shown to a dark room with a twin bed, a roommate and a bathroom. I was given medication to help me sleep, at this point I ha not slept in days and only a few hours over the last couple of weeks. Sleep, as anyone living with a mental illness knows, can and does absolutely make or break you! With a bed, some medication and the feeling of finally being safe, I slept and slept and slept! Hands down, I had never felt so safe in my entire life as I did that first night in the psych ward. I was finally free to be me! Yes, I get the irony, FREE, locked up in the loony bin :)  But it's true.

I spent five days in an acute care psychiatric hospital where I got my medications on track, my sleep on track, started therapy and made a plan moving forward. My husband came to meet with my case manager to decide when it was safe for me to leave and what we/he needed to do once I was released. It was an experience to say the least, one I never imagined I would have. I knew and accepted I was living with mental illnesses but I was fine, I never really had problems, I functioned just like everyone I knew. And that was all true, until it wasn't. Bipolar is NOT a game. It is not an illness to be brushed aside or ignored. Bipolar can absolutely be managed and most of your life is typical, like you think everyone else's is :-) YOU HAVE TO MANAGE IT! Just as it you had high blood pressure or poor eye sight, bipolar is absolutely the same! It is an illness that cannot be cured but can be managed. 

My stay in the Loony Bin was just about two years ago now and it absolutely saved my life! I am so thankful for my therapist that encouraged me to go to the ER on my own (or he was calling them), my family and friends for trying so hard to understand and help me learn to live with this, my current therapist and psychiatrist who continue to help me manage my mental illness and my husband who has had to jump in with both feet and learn all about bipolar, living with someone with bipolar, supporting someone living with bipolar and still maintain a HUGE job outside the home so we can have food on the table, he isn't perfect but he tries and keeps trying and has for 28 years.