It Feels Like Failure

I’ve been home from hospital for five and a half weeks. It was tricky adjusting to being home, especially with moving to a new house, in a new suburb. My housemate did most of the moving whilst I was in hospital. My first night at home was spent in a new house with different sounds, but mostly deafening silence.

It took a couple of weeks, but I settled into my new place, and new routines. It’s quicker to get to some of my health professionals, but longer to others. It’s much, much further to work, but it’s still okay. My unit is at the back of the block so there’s very little sound from passing traffic. Sometimes you can hear trains at the nearby train station, but mostly it’s silent.

I’m not sure when things started heading south. There were the usual ups and downs, but then something changed. I plunged into a deep, dark hole. Everything was harder. Smiling took more energy. I cried whenever I was alone. Then safety became an issue. Self-destructive thoughts and urges filled my mind. The only escape was to follow through.

I didn’t tell anyone to begin with. I kept quiet. I wasn’t proud of my mistakes. I felt stupid, like an idiot for engaging in self-harming behaviours. I promised myself that I wouldn’t do it again. I brushed it off as a mistake. Then, I did it again. This time Miss 16 dobbed on me, and told our psychologist.

That’s when, five weeks after I was discharged, my psychologist contacted my psychiatrist, and told Miss 16 that we needed to be in hospital. Fast forward to today, and we’ve seen our psychiatrist. A potential admission date has been set. Miss 16 went to the appointment with our psychiatrist today and told him what she thought he should know.

I know I’m struggling, and I know my thinking is out of whack, but I don’t want to be back in hospital.

I didn’t mind admitting to my last hospital admission. I was okay with that. This time, I’m ashamed. By the time I go back in I’ll have been home for a little under two months. This feels like failure. I’m angry, frustrated, and disappointed with myself for needing to be in hospital.

I have to talk to my manager and negotiate more time off work. I have to arrange for my housemate to take care of my goldfish. I’ll have to explain to some friends where I am, and why. Work colleagues will want to know where I’ve been when I’m back again.

I’m all for working to reduce the stigma around mental illness and accessing appropriate treatment. I encourage others to seek appropriate help when needed. I tell others that there is no shame in seeking help for mental illness.

Honestly though, I feel ashamed. Needing to be in hospital, again, feels like absolute failure.


3 thoughts on “It Feels Like Failure

  1. I know it feels like failure, but it’s really not. You’re just dealing with so, so much and it’s freaking hard. I mean, if this was any other kind of illness, you wouldn’t feel like a failure. So try not to beat yourself up ’cause your brain needs help too, k?

    Also, let me know if you need anything. I’m not sure what I’d be able to do, but if there is anything, you bet your butt I’m on it.

    • I’ve been thinking of explaining to some people (eg. manager) that I need to go back into hospital for another round of treatment. That says nothing about what health condition is being treated, and does kind of explain it.

      If you can bring (or post) movies that would be utterly awesome! I’ll be stuck with prepaid mobile broadband which is ridiculously expensive, so won’t be able to watch netflix. 😦

      • How did I miss this comment? Sorry!

        I was about to lament my lack of DVDs but uh… It’s 2015 and I have tiny portable hard drives? ahaha oh dear *facepalm* Message me on fb a list of movies and/or TV shows you’d like and I’ll figure out how to get them to you quick smart 🙂

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