The Looney Bin

Disclaimer: I call it The Looney Bin because it makes it easier for me.


The beginning of this month I snapped.  I have no other way to explain what happened to me, the stress, hopelessness, anguish, pain, frustration, and emptiness all became too much to handle and I started to think that everyone would be much better off without me. This thinking landed me in the Ogden Regional Hospital's ER. And then the next morning (Feb. 8) I was taken to the Psych Ward at Lakeview Hospital. My first day there I was asked to explain what my depression felt like in group therapy in front of about 8 people I couldn't remember what their names were "I am in the deepest darkest hole trying to find my way out only there is no light, ladder or rope only dirt and I keep sliding back to the bottom." I was shocked to look around and see most of them nodding their heads completely understanding. This was totally foreign to me.


I spent the first day sleeping on and off and talking to a psychologist, MD, social worker, nurse, and Recreational Therapist then decided I wasn't going to get sleep so I joined the education groups and the process group.

Now, I know what most people think when they hear that you spent time in a Psych Ward that you are crazy, that if you were stronger you could "get over it", or that no one really needs medicine to help with depression. Well just to prove a point I had to spend 12 days proving you all wrong! :)


I was diagnosed with major depression, anxiety, and suicidal tendencies.  Each day I spent hours learning how to change my way of thinking, talking about my feelings, my past, my future, my present, listening to others talk about theirs and feeling their understanding and understanding them, talking to a psychologist, trying to get use to a hoard of new pills that made me pretty looney the first couple of days, talking to a social worker (who thanks to his patience and prying was able to help me start to open up and let the real me finally start to show), watching tv, having girl talk, discussing individual problems outside of groups, laughing, playing cards, some drawing/guessing game on the white board (hilarious) and COLORING. (I don't think I have ever colored so much in my entire life, by the last couple of days it was serious business and us girls consulted each other and took considerable time deciding how to color the pictures, the boys rolled their eyes.)


Most people only stay about a week so while I was there I met a considerable amount of people I had two roommates one who was as annoying as heck and very loud and one who I grew to love and had a very strong connection with (and 20 years my senior). I didn't know these people most I will never see again but while there they were my family, we all poured our heart and souls out to each other it was our "safe zone" no matter what we said there was no judgement passed only love and understanding.  For me this was a first I had a very hard time opening up at first I was quite during group, laughed when expected and joined in when it was light and airy.  As each day went by I opened up more and more to my assigned social worker which in turn helped me open up in process group, which was the group where we all sat around and shared our feelings, day nine was my "break-through" day. My doctor's response was "it is about time, let's talk about when you can go home."


Day 9 was last Thursday. We had music therapy usually my favorite, everyone was tired so we decided to do a meditation one. We all got comfortable and the therapist started playing the guitar and talking us through a safe haven. I closed my eyes and all I wanted to do was cry, I couldn't see the safe haven she was explaining, what I saw scared me. Once the therapist was done she sat her guitar down came over and sat next to me and processed the therapy with me. I actually cried for the first time since being there. She actually acted like she really cared like she really wanted to know what I saw and felt. Later in process group after a little coaxing I opened up and told them all what I felt and what I saw when I closed my eyes in music therapy and then went into greater detail about my feelings. I don't know if it is bad or good that every single person in the group was either tearing up or crying because of what I was saying including the Psych Therapist ("how unprofessional of me" she said :)). But then they all went around the table and each one told me something good about myself, I can't remember what each one said, some of them I met that day, but I could feel from each one of them how genuine they were and honest they were being. For the first time in a long time I actually felt hope again, if there is nothing else that I can take from the psych ward the hope I got that day is worth the stay.


I learned so much from my stay there, I gained so much love and compassion from people I will never see again, but with who I have so much in common with.  This is only the beginning I have a very long dark road ahead of me and these last two days have been harder than I ever imagined. I still feel at the bottom of the hole, but this time I have a pin prick of light, I have doctor appointments set up, I'm on medicine to help with my mental illness, there are support groups close by. And one day, who knows when, this smile will no longer be fake but finally real.