I was doing well for 48 hours. Got my haircut and colored, my nails done, had a day off to catch up.
I went to work on Wednesday. It was awkward and I didn’t feel emotionally stable. But good enough!
After work, however, I sobbed for 7 hours, through Starbucks, handbells, therapist call, talk with a friend. My anxiety increased dramatically, so much so that by the time I got home about 10pm I thought I should go to the hospital. I didn’t feel safe but in a different way. A panic attack? I contracted for safety with a friend and got a good night’s sleep. “We’re taking tired off the table,” she said. I told her I’d let her know what happened in the morning.
By morning I was extremely anxious and had begun feeling that old suicidal feeling. I wanted to go to work since there were projects to finish but with the way I was feeling I wasn’t sure I should go. I called the hospital who said do not pass go, do not collect $200, come straight to the hospital. During the intake process it seemed I’d be referred to an outpatient program. I pushed and explained my situation and was admitted. Again.
Now I languish. The anxiety I felt was the tip of the iceberg, the dr said, that my mood isn’t yet stable. The longer I’m here, the more suicidal I become. Exciting.