April's Nail Art

In the last 2 weeks I have had a few of my friends tell me they are feeling very depressed. And I have talked to them about things I have only told a few people. I was ashamed of it for quite a while, but it made me a better stronger person so I am just going to put it out there.
October 2009 I lost a battle with depression. I had been down for almost a year, and first thought of it as a slump. I had never been depressed before. I am a pretty cheery person usually so I had no idea what was going on. There were days I didn't want to leave the house. Days when I would force myself to sleep for sometimes more than 24 hours just so I didn't have to deal with anything. Still I told myself it was just a bad day, maybe my period was coming...(Most girls get weepy a few days before) and so on.
I was living back at home in Sandy Creek at this point, and working full-time in Watertown, NY. I had closed myself off from most of my friends and though my mother could tell I was a little sad at times she didn't realize how bad it had gotten. It wasn't till my friend John and I sat down while talking about the PTSD symptoms he was dealing with from his tour overseas that I even spoke about it to anyone. We talked for hours, I believe I cried for a while...then called in sick the next day to work to take a 'mental health day'. It was a very fitting term. We went to his friend Joshs wedding at the courthouse, then went to the mall to buy him a Wii for a wedding gift. Now there is a mall in Watertown, but since I called in sick and my work was near there we drove all the way to the Carousel mall in Syracuse. The day was going fine until we started heading home. The plan was to stop and my home and grab 2 of my sister controllers for them to borrow so we could all play that night. But on out way home we started talking about what I was going through. And I finally admitted to my friend and myself what I couldn't before.
I want to stress right now that suicide is NOT the answer. But I felt myself say something like "I don't know what is wrong, but I know it's something. Because when you are driving home from work and a tree on the side of the road looks like a good option you are not okay." It wasn't a one time thought, at first it was and I would brush it off. But when you think about it randomly throughout the day no matter how silly it sounds to you it becomes scary. Now if you know me at all that would probably shock the hell out of you. I am not a girl who gets depressed. I am not the kind of girl who would ever consider suicide. I lost 2 very dear friends who were considered family to suicide. That's when I broke down. We arrived at my moms, I walked upstairs grabbed the Wii remotes and my mom was in the kitchen. I walked up to her and said "Mom, I need to tell you something. I think I need to see someone." She said "Like a psychiatrist?" And I nodded, she said okay and she would speak to my physician about a recommendation the next day. I told her that I didn't want to wait because I felt as if it was too late, and that would take too long. It was then if she asked if I was thinking about hurting myself, and the tears instantly streamed down my face while I nodded again. She wanted me to say with her, but my car was up on base at Fort Drum cause we took Johns SUV to the mall. She said she would call my doctor and see what we needed to do. I rode up to get my car, and mom called my father for me because I was too ashamed to tell him what I was going through.
On the way home my Father called me, and said that I needed to come stay the weekend with him and we could talk. He kept saying something like you owe it to me, and before you do anything rash. And I agreed. Then Mom called me and told me she spoke to my personal physician and that she was worried about me (we are all pretty close). When my mother told her I was going to get my car and drive home my doctor wanted my mother to call the troopers to pick me up instead to make sure I didn't hurt myself. But my mom knew better. She said "It's okay, she told me she would be home tonight. So she will be home." She also showed a lot of concer about me checking myself into the Mental Health ward because she said once I admit myself I can not be released until they feel I should be. And I took a deep breath and said "Well Mom, if they want to keep me there, then there would have to be a reason." I got home and spent about an hour or so laying in my moms room with her not hardly speaking just holding her and then I looked at her and said. "Mom, I need to go now." And she asked me if I was sure, and I nodded. I packed a bag and we hopped in the car.
I guess during regular office hours you can just go to OMH and speak to someone and get admitted. But being that it was about 11pm on a weekday that was not really an option. We went to the Oswego Emergency room and I had to peak to a few people who I didn't know and tell them that I was contemplating suicide. Not only did I feel ashamed for letting depression take over me, but I felt so vulnerable because I had to tell complete strangers (doctors, nurses, reception) that I was nothing but a scared little girl who was at the end of her rope. I sat in the waiting room, then waiting for a doctor, then sitting with a random nurse (who they told me was a precaution to make sure I didn't try to off myself while I was there) for 5 hours until my transportation came to bring me to OMH. Now if I had actually attempted suicide or was forced to go in this would make a lot more sense, but I admitted myself. While waiting with the nurse who was a year or so younger than I was my father came in to see me. He had to leave to go out of state for work in a few hours but he still came down to talk to me. I didn't expect him to be there for me the way he was. He never had been as concerned about me as he was that night.
I got to the hospital about 4am, and had to talk to so more strangers, get a few shots and tests and let them go through my luggage and take half my clothing and things because there were a risk. (Pajama pants with string ties, my iPhone -no cells or cameras allowed, my belt and many other items) By the time I got to finally go to sleep it was 5am.
Now I had seen Girl, Interrupted but I never knew how close that was to the reality of a mental hospital. I was in a room I had to share with a roommate who was already sleeping. Didn't know her name, why she was there or anything. Just when I went to lay in the bed they did "checks". Yup, they actually do checks every so many minutes that's not just in the movies. I somehow fell asleep (the medicine they gave me probably helped) and an hour later I was awoken when one of the people doing checks came in. I probably would have just fell right back to sleep but the door stayed open for longer then the first time and I heard my still unknown roommate say "What do you need?" to the staff member. Then I heard a familiar voice say "April?" I lifted my head to match the voice with a face and it was one of my brothers friends. "Bill?" I answered tiredly. And I sat up in my bed a bit, the sun had come out already but I was not ready to greet it. He said he was my name and was wondering how I was doing and what I was doing here. And I know it seems rude but I said "I am kind of regretting coming here now that you see me here." I didn't mean anything against him and he assured me he couldn't say anything to anyone about me being there. But I didn't mean it because I was worried about him saying something, I meant it because I was so ashamed to be there, that even though he wasn't a very close friend, he knew...and that killed me. He sat on the heating unit near my bed to try to have a conversation with me, and I think I may have been a bit snarky. I just remember saying "Bill, I just got here an hour ago and I really want to sleep can we talk later?" He respected that and said goodnight even though it was mornign and off he went.
People doing checks were in and out and I had already grown frustrated as to how much noise the fucking doors made when they opened and closed each time. But I still managed to sleep through breakfast, and lunch. They did wake me up for dinner where I walked in, ate and sat in a common area for all of 10 minutes feeling extremely uncomfortable until I once again retired to my room. The brought me my medicine later, and I took it and went back to sleep. Now I was a pack of day smoker at this point in my life, and they didn't inform me till I had already checked myself in that they had 2 times alloted per day to go to the patio and smoke (they were working to become smoke free which they have obtained now). These times were at 6am and 9pm. Which if you are a smoker, you will understand this statement....that alone could drive someone crazy. Now think of this. If you didn't wake up to go out in the morning, you were fucked until 9pm.
The 2nd day I woke up to take my medicine and they told me about smoking time, I ran out and chain smoked 3 Newport 100's turned down breakfast and went back to sleep till about 9 or 10 am. Besides a phone call I received on the common payphone from my mother, and then my father I had zero socialization. I didn't pack any books or anything because I thought if I took out my Sim card I would keep my iPhone to keep me occupied. I never even thought that they would take it because of the camera. So I had no entertainment. The TV was down near the mens rooms and almost always on sports. I sat in the common room being as quiet as possible just observing the people that surrounded me. I kept telling you this was a safe place, and I know I shouldn't pass judgement but there were some crazy people in there. People who heard voices and radios playing in their heads, people with no concept of personal space, ones who had anger issues. This was my 2nd day there, but my first day I left my room and if I had a book or something with me and a lock on that room door I think I would have hid in there the whole time. I knew a few of the other staff one was my best friends aunt, and another was a girl I went to High School with (we didn't get along back then either).
It wasn't till my 3rd day in that I walked by the black board in the girls common area and saw a box in the upper left corner that said "Beatles Songs" I spun around and asked an staff member if they wanted us to list Beatles songs on the basically empty board. She was and older woman with short gray hair and she kindly replied yes. I had found something to do. Something that could keep me occupied. I basically burnt through the chalk, before anyone had realized I had started the list I had about 40 songs down, and then another staff member came up and started helping me along. He and I actually became friends and I still speak to him. But he rattled off a bunch more, which made me remember more then finally some other patients joined in the fun. I wish I could remember how many songs we came up with, but I do remember we had trouble squeezing new ones on the board and it was pretty large. That was when I came out of my shell. I started talking to people, some were still pretty nuts to me. And I haven't really spoken to any of them since then but that day and that list helped me more than any talks with the therapists did.
I spent the rest of my time in there doing puzzles, lists on the board, and talking with the staff. Not so much the patients with the exception of one or two. I forged two new friendships with some staffers that I still maintain to this day. I learned a lot of things in there but most of all I learned that I never wanted to go back. There were some patients in there who had been there 9 times or more. I guess if you have nothing and no one it could be worse. They feed you 3 meals a day, do your laundry, provide you with a roof over your head, television to watch and all your medication. There were lots more stories from in there that I could tell and I was only there for a week, but this seems like a pretty long blog already.
So just a few more things and then I will wrap this up. After my stint at OMH, I had outpatient visits bi-weekly and went through 4 medications before things started to work. I have been off anti-depressants for close to a year now things are getting to be great. Sometimes you just need the stability the medicine gives you until you can figure out how to give that to yourself. It gets better, I had people tell me that when I was lost and I didn't believe them. I couldn't possibly fathom this feeling that had pushed me down so far ever going away, but it did. I know most people who read this probably aren't feeling any of these things I talked about but for the 1 or many who are I want to tell you this. Talk to a doctor, just say you are feeling a depression you have never felt before. Unless you have considered/attempted or are scared you might try suicide be sure to steer clear of that word though. Try your best not to put it off. In my case it started off as a bad day here and there, then a feeling of loneliness, hopelessness until I couldn't wait another minute to get help. I swear if it weren't for the fact that I knew it would kill my mother and my father would be disappointed in me I might have done it. It may sound nuts, but I am so lucky to have gone through that horrible low in my life because it really lets me see how far I have come and what I am capable of. To know that even though sometimes I am embarrassed to admit I fell victim to the depression I was strong enough to battle my way out of it. Yes medications were involved but I broke free of them and am standing tall now.
If you take nothing else away from this ridiculously long post please take this. Life is about changing, things weren't meant to be the same. Things won't be this way forever, I made it out of the darkness and you can make it through too. The best quote I can close this with is "You know the great thing, though, is that change can be so constant you don't even feel the difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't even notice that your life is better or worse, until it is." (Life as a House)

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

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What I have been up to

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You are going to make it through.

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