19 Jul Day 49: Admission
Lauren has spoken to my therapist again to get some advice, she has also called my doctors surgery to get me in to see someone straight away. This was the best decision Lauren has ever made, not that I knew it at the time.
I had been telling Lauren that I still feel weird, I get into work and I just stare at my computer screen, I have no idea what I’m doing at work, have no motivation to get anything done. Lauren has dropped me off and pulled my boss to the side, she’s told him that there’s something wrong, things happened yesterday and that I’ve got a doctors appointment at 10am.
Half an hour later my boss has called me in to his office, he asks how I am, gives me some words of reassurance and gives me a hug, I’m near tears.
I get to the doctors at 10am, have the longest conversation with the doctor that I think now made his best decision, between him and Lauren – they saved my life.
Time goes on, I’ve told the doctor that I don’t want to live anymore, I’ve had ideations of killing myself, I’ve made a plan and I feel no positivity in my life. My doctor is now on the phone to the Crisis Response Team, they speak to me and decide to come and visit me. I tell them the same that I told my doctor and they make the decision that it’s best for me to be admitted to a Mental Health Unit at the hospital.
This is now the third negative stigma that I experience, when Jeff was suggesting that he would be going there, now I’m the one that is actually going there. Well at least I’ll find out if it is all straight-jackets and chair rockers right?
They had offered me hospital admission or wait for 2-3 weeks to see a psychologist. Something that I couldn’t really comprehend – I’ve told them I want to kill myself and they ask me if I can hold on for 3 weeks before getting help? I couldn’t trust myself, so I’m going in.
I get to hospital, Lauren is with me and so is the person that admitted me to hospital, they had one bed available – with my name on. I’m sitting in the family room in my work clothes (half a suit) waiting to have my assessment for admission. I have to reassure my mum that it isn’t really me that’s doing this, it’s the PTSD, the depression, the anxiety. I remember saying to Lauren, time in here, to get me better.
I’m admitted, I have people coming up to me asking if I work here, I’m a new face, “you don’t look like someone that belongs here” now that hit me, what do you have to look like to be in a mental hospital? It’s time for Lauren to leave, she’s upset, hates the thought of leaving me here, but she’ll be back tomorrow!
I’m off mingling with no one, I’m sitting on a chair in the communal area, watching the world go by.