‘Oh, just PTSD stuff.’

‘Oh, just PTSD stuff.’ That’s how I brushed off the need for my recent psychiatric hospital admission to a work colleague.

I’m disappointed that I felt the need to minimise how much I was struggling, but there’s also only so much that’s appropriate to explain in the workplace. I gave my manager even less information. I just said that I needed to go into hospital and would need two to four weeks off work. No questions were asked, and for that I’m grateful.

How was I to explain that I have a generally unknown mental health condition, and that I was struggling to cope with an increase in symptoms? At work it’s not appropriate, and not necessary. I was more honest with one colleague because I’ve known them a long time.

The real reason for my most recent hospital admission? DID chaos. I was having more flashbacks, anxiety was increasing, and I was doing everything I could to isolate myself from everyone inside and their feelings and memories. I also had trauma anniversaries rapidly approaching, and a lot of anxiety about those. All of that anxiety and stress meant falling asleep at night was becoming increasingly difficult.

I’d made an appointment with my psychiatrist, at the urging of my then psychologist (she’s since retired), to discuss a hospital admission. I didn’t think things were too bad. I was still functioning, even if I was struggling a lot. Throw in a severe dissociative episode in the days before seeing my psychiatrist and I stopped fighting. I willingly agreed to the hospital admission.

 

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