I keep meaning to blog but then I don’t because STUFF TO DO (some of which is totally napping. IT’S IMPORTANT) but really there’s only 2 important things.
- I achieved a PR last week. I have never done this particular feat before: I metrosurfed from Judiciary Square to Union Station without moving my feet at all. (it may sound unimpressive, but trust me, it’s way harder than it sounds)
- I hit a young raccoon on the way home last night and not only was that terribly upsetting, but it effed up my wheel well guard thingy. The Boy employed duct tape and one of my accidentally stolen from Wegmans when I worked there box cutters so I can drive without listening to my wheel grinding away at the plastic. So I’m left feeling like a murderer of cuteness.
Oof, long time between posts. Things have been really busy (lots of medical bills plus slightly less working due to illness and tons of doctor’s appointments and PT means dreaming about bouncing checks at the grocery store and not having time to blog) Recovery proceeds apace.
There are a lot of rules when you’re in a mental hospital. They’re designed to keep everyone safe. Which makes sense because that’s sort of the point of a mental hospital. The hospital I was staying at doesn’t have adults separated out into “acute” and “non-acute,” though, so some of the rules seem extreme and sometimes they don’t seem extreme enough.
Psychiatric hospitals are really boring. When the EMTs wheeled me in they stuck me in an assessment office with doors that lock regardless of what side of them you’re on. I fiddled with my phone, emailing my boss to let him know I didn’t know when I’d be back at work and why, and updating my FB page with a photo of my ER ID bracelets and letting my FB friends know I was going to be in a psychiatric hospital.
first: got PT appointments scheduled finally! and today is Meredith’s birthday <3
As mentioned earlier this week, I went to the hospital last week for depression. I had been in a depressive episode for a while but keeping my head above water, and then when Meredith died it was more like just keeping my nose above water. The morning I went to the ER, The Boy and I had a fight via IM (well, more like I had a fight and he was bewildered) and I spent a good hour or so quietly crying at my desk.
I might write more about it later but the basics are: Wed the 12th was a no good, very bad, horrible day and I was not doing well. My boss called EAP to get me help. They wanted me to go to the ER despite the fact that I felt that I was no longer a danger to myself at that point so The Boy came downtown to go with me. I spent Wednesday night at the GWU ER, their psych unit was full so they found an area hospital to transfer me to, and I spent from Thursday morning until Wednesday afternoon at that hospital. I could probably have done fine without going to the hospital but both the EAP counselor and the psychiatrist at GW wanted me to go so…
I’m happy to be home (mental hospitals, though not torturous prisons, are not terribly fun places to be) and will probably talk more about the experience over the weekend. Those of you who knew I was there, I appreciate the love and well wishes you sent. Those of you who didn’t, I know you would have sent the same if you had known.
everything is very muted right now. Like I went from trying not to feel to just not being able to, mostly. I spend my day in a state of mild irritation interspersed with mild amusement/pleasure. When I’m driving I am slightly more irritated. When the cats get along I am slightly pleased. when the Boy says something funny or shares something funny, I am mildly amused. That’s basically it. I saw this on FB this morning and I felt like I should feel something, but nope. The only time I felt anything the past several days was Continue reading