yep. my downward spiral began again in April, 2004. i was on an unpaid medical leave from my job and was getting more and more depressed. May 2004 -- after a visit to my psychiatrist and therapist, and from the angry feelings that had been building up within me, i wound up back in the cuckoo's nest -- again. this time i had thoughts of not hurting myself, but hurting other people. i was angrier than angry and it showed in my mannerisms, my speech and everything else. i had serious thoughts of killing the bastard who tried to rape my daughter, i had serious thoughts of strangling the shit out of the bitch ass nurse i had worked with, hell i felt like just getting myself an Uzi and blowing away everybody. also during that time, that's when i started hearing voices -- at first the voices sounded like a faraway muttering, but as my thoughts started racing and my mind was in an uproar, the voices became louder and louder until it felt like a convention was going on inside my head. also i did attempt suicide -- i had drunk a half a bottle of prescription cough syrup and laid down and waited to die. fortunately i didnt, but i was sleepy as hell and my thoughts were still scrambled because of the interaction with my medication. to put it bluntly, i was a time bomb waiting to explode.
before i was hospitalized, i had went online to apply for Social Security Disability. i figured what the hell, just go on and do it. i didnt expect to be approved but i did it for the hell of it. i went thru the application process online and got a confidential number in the event i needed to change some information. i printed out all of it and tossed it in a corner somewhere. i had a strong case of what i call the "fuck its" -- meaning, okay so i filled this shit out...fuck it. also again, before i re-entered the cuckoos nest, i would sit around in my funky pajamas and stare blankly off into space. i think i had began losing touch with reality and the voices became louder and more intrusive. i didnt want to eat, i didnt want to bathe, like i said, i had the "fuck its." i would sometimes sit for hours on end staring at the floor, the walls, or still in a catatonic-like state, rock back and forth over and over. it was like my body was there but my mind was way off in the Twilight Zone. i remember i didnt take a bath for close to 3 weeks before i finally got down wind of myself and got my ass in the bathtub because i couldnt stand my own smell. it didnt
help that much, but at least i was clean.
anyway, fast forward to the second week in May 2004. i was in group and i started getting agitated and edgy and i think one of the nurses asked me was i alright and i said no. she said was i feeling suicidal and testily i replied no. then i was asked if i wanted to hurt someone else and i said again irritably, 'yes'. so once again i was walked over to the cuckoo's nest, and admitted again, this time for 'homicidal ideation.' all the anger i had been feeling had been coming out in different ways and i was at my boiling point to where i actually felt like killing someone - namely the bastard who tried to rape my daughter. my oldest daughter was living with me during that time and because i had no income coming in, and she was working, she stepped up to the plate and paid the rent faithfully up until september. but i digress.
while i was in the cuckoo's nest i was started on Seroquel again - this time 200mgs and of course the nitey-nite pill, and Zoloft 150 mg. also, we patients were allowed cigarette breaks -- woo hoo! we were allowed breaks after breakfast, after lunch, after dinner and before bedtime. i was glad of that because i just couldnt take the patch breaking me out and nearly puking on the gum, so i guess staff figured the best way to keep the patients from completely going off the deep end was to allow us smoke breaks. that at least was something we looked forward to, and some of the staff who were smokers joined us outside. it made my stay in the loony hole a hell of a lot more tolerable. also my daughter came to visit me and brought me some extra clothes and my own soap (because the little ass bar of Dial soap made me itch) and my own toothbrush and also some gel for my hair. i began to feel a little bit more like myself and actively participated in the other groups we had during the day, like occupational therapy and med therapy. also we still got a nighttime snack and sometimes we played bingo and got a prize...i won a couple times and got an extra couple of snacks (actually a couple of bags of chips) or we would watch TV until it was time for us to go to bed.
i forgot to mention that i had a roommate who wasnt too bad. she kept to herself and i kept to myself and we got along fine. i believe she was schizo, but she was ok. i remember when i was first admitted i was assigned to one room that i thought was where i was supposed to be, until i was rudely awakened by the night shift nurse telling me that i was to be moved to another room. that pissed me off and i let her know in no uncertain terms that i was not a happy camper -- i mean come on, shit, it was fucking 2 in the morning! i fussed all up and down the hall back and forth with the nurse and finally went to the new room, still bitching under my breath.
anyways, i went in on the 11th of May and was discharged on the 14th of May 2004. again, i had med scripts to fill but this time i was able to make it home without any problems or feeling woozy or nothing like that. i got home and was happily greeted by my youngest and oldest daughters and i will admit i was glad to be home. at least i could smoke without feeling like i was in jail :-) .
that was the last hospitalization i had. i havent been admitted again for suicidal or homicidal ideations since.
more to come....stay tuned.....
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