Adjusting to life at home and the stigma surrounding mental health problems.

 I'm in my 3rd full day back at home.  Things have been alright.  I've managed to keep up on my journal for the most part.  I need to get better at doing it everyday.  Everyone here has been good about giving me some space.  Just not my first day home as the boys seemed to never be more than a few feet away wherever I went.  I have to remember they probably didn't understand what was fully going on and were thrown off by the fact dad wasn't at home.  Both of the twins admitted to breaking down in their beds at night.  I feel horrible about that.   We have been open and honest with them and they are free to ask questions whenever they have any.  

The first two days were spent catching up on sleep and getting back into being home.  Today Jill went back into the office due to our internet being out.  The boys have driven me crazy today.  The three oldest like to gang up  on and torment the youngest until he screams.  And he has one of those screams that is so piercing that it would make a dolphin beach itself.  And that is what they go for when they gang up on him.   Their big payoff is hearing him scream and watching him throw a fit by pounding his fists into the floor or walls and completely meltdown.  I could actually feel my blood pressure rising as I lost my cool with them.  I really hate yelling at them, but, they never listen and continue to push both me and the youngest.  

I went into work today for about an hour to take in my slip from the hospital.  I spoke with my general manager and he shared some things with me I never would have guessed.  But our talk has me thinking.  Why is there such a stigma with not only mental health issues but when men have them?  During my time in the hospital I heard more than one guy say that they never talked about their depression.  They felt it made them feel or look weak and feel like they weren't' meant to admit they were struggling.  So they would continuously push it down or away and wouldn't deal with it.  And the more you push it away, the worse it is when it comes back again.  And this vicious cycle continues until the person breaks and either gets help or attempts to commit suicide.  I am guilty of this to a certain degree.  I would push the depression away and hope it would just go away.  I wasn't and am not ashamed of my struggles, I just chose to ignore it in hopes it would take care of itself.    I know that isn't much better, and I too ended up paying the price for it.  

We need to end the stigma that surrounds mental health problems.  Not just for men, but for everyone.  I've heard people refer to someone with mental illness as crazy.  And that isn't fair.  We didn't ask for this, and statements like that and name calling only further push that person to keep quiet and not say anything or seek help.  I feel more needs to be done in regards to ending the stigma associated with mental illness.  

For those who don't know, Stigma is when someone views you in a negative way because you have a distinguishing characteristic or personal trait thought to be a disadvantage.  People sometimes see those with mental health issues as lesser than  the rest because of their problems.  Stigma can lead to discrimination in some cases.  But furthermore, stigma can be very harmful to those suffering from mental illness.  It can lead to reluctance in seeking help, lack of understanding, bullying, and possibly the belief you will never be successful in certain challenges or improve your situation in life.  

The best way we can combat the stigma we can face is to speak up and speak out.  Speaking up and showing support for people with mental illness can help instill courage in others who are fighting the same or similar battles.  That is why I am doing this.  I am putting my story out there not only as a way for me to cope, deal, and heal.  But to show others that they are not alone.  And that it is is ok to stand up and speak out.  If only one person reads this and feels compelled to share their story as well then I will be more than happy.  I benefited from seeing, meeting, and hearing others stories and sharing my own as well when I was in the hospital.  So I figured why not share mine on a bigger scale where it could possibly have a better chance to reach more people?

If I were more comfortable with public speaking, I would love to set up an assembly with local high schools and bring some people with me who have struggled with mental illness or those who have lost loved ones to suicide.  And just have them share their stories and include a message about suicide prevention and how it's ok to not be ok, and that seeking help isn't a sign of weakness but a show of strength.  I would call it Stand up, Speak up, Don't Give Up....

But that is all I have for now,  If anyone ever needs to speak to someone or wants to share their story I am always available.  

Until Then,

Be Well....

I'M GOING HOME!!!!

 Well, an interesting thing happened today.  I was coming out of group therapy when my nurse asked if he could see me in the interview room. I followed him to the room and as I entered, there sat my doctor, my nurse, social worker and psychiatrist.  I sit down and my doctor asks how I'm feeling and a few other small questions.  After I answer those she asks what takeaways I have from my time in the unit.  I talk about my journal, and some self realizations I've made about how I'm responsible for my care and happiness.  She asked if I would be able to continue to journal at home when I'm released.  I say that I can and will continue to journal and she smiles and says "so if we send you home today, you'll be alright?"  I'M GOING HOME TODAY!!!!!!

They said it'd be a few hours as they had to get my paperwork around and work on getting my meds filled.  That's fine with me, they can take their time because I get to go home today!!  So I thanked them all for everything they have done for me and got up and left the room.  I went back to the day room and two of the people I had made friends with were sitting there and I told them the news.  I got congrats from them both and then went back to my room to pack up my stuff.  

Lunch came next and I sat with my friend and talked a little about my leaving  and what his plans were for when he gets out.  After lunch we went back to the day room and I gave him my cell phone number and told him to shoot me a text when he gets out to let me know he's doing alright.  My nurse came in and got me and told me to call a ride because all my things were ready.  They gave me my street clothes back and I immediately changed.  You have no idea how good it felt to put shoes on again.  I know that may seem silly but it's true.  I had spent the past several days wearing clothes they gave me and socks they gave me, so putting my own clothes back on was very nice.  

I then went back to the day room for group therapy.  About half way through it my nurse came to the window and pointed at me.  I get up and say my goodbyes and pick up my bags and wallet from the nurses station.  We head down on the elevator and I see Jill sitting out there waiting.  I get in the van and immediately break down.  I think it was a combination of relief, happiness, being a little scared, and leaving behind some friends whom i had gotten to know very well in my time there. 

We drive home and so begins my life away from the hospital.  It definitely feels like a new start for me.  One that terrifies me, one that has me excited, on that I hopefully will not take for granted.  It's funny how my time there went.  And how full circle I can in those 4 days.  By the time I left I didn't mind the place , the people, the group therapies, because they all helped me and I am forever grateful.  I do not regret my decision to seek help.  If I had to do it all over again I wouldn't change a thing.  So much good came from my time there and I left feeling completely different than when I went in.

Now to journal from home and try to set up my new normal.  Thank you to everyone who reached out to us, prayed for us, sent texts and messages.  You are all very much appreciated and we love you all!!

Until Next Time,
Be Well.....

8-21-2020

 Well, it's 4:15am and guess who is wide awake?  Needless to say I didn't sleep well last night.  I was in bed by 9:50pm, but was wide awake at 3:15am.  Luckily the nurse who was in my room was understanding.  She asked if it was weird having someone sit at the foot of your bed all night.  I mean, how would you feel if you had to sleep with a complete stranger sitting at the foot of your bed watching you all night?   Not exactly the best way to get a good nights sleep.    I told her that it is indeed slightly unsettling.  

So what to do now?  Can't do laundry or shower until 6am.  Breakfast isn't until 7:30am.   So here I sit.  I'm almost positive that I'm the only one in this unit that is awake right now.  The ironic part is that I took something to help me sleep last night and here I am..   Kinda backfired on me didn't it?  This is one of those situations where I wish I had my phone, I could mindlessly scroll through Facebook or the internet for a couple of hours until things get moving here.  You have a lot of free time here which is both good and bad.  Good because it has given me the opportunity to write again, but, bad because I can't write forever and end up with a lot of downtime.  Downtime leads to thinking a lot and sometimes that can be not so good.  Case in point was last night.  I wrote my last piece around 6 or 7pm.  After that I had nothing to do, no groups, no visitors, and I wasn't feeling writing anymore at that point.  So what did I do?  I went to the day room and watched Jeopardy with a couple of people, I actually tried to sit down and color for a little while but couldn't focus on it so I stopped, I tried reading a book but my attention span was shot at that point.  All of those things mentioned only managed to kill about an hour.  Pretty sad huh?  

Around 9pm they open up the dining room for snacks.  Another guy and I ended up raiding the place,  Cereal, ice cream, sandwiches...  We just sat at a table and talked for almost an hour and ate.  They ended up kicking us out of them room so they could close it up and at that point I decided to head for bed.  A decision that clearly did not work out too well for me.  But, what can you do?   I don't think today will be too tough, and I can always catch a nap during my downtime.  

I think I'm going to go lay down and rest for a little while.  I'll write more later.

Until Then,

Be Well....

8-20-2020 Day 2 Part 2

 Well, that was interesting...  Just got done with Group Therapy and it was interesting to say the least.  He started off group asking us some questions about our day and our night, how we slept, what we had for breakfast and lunch, just surface level stuff.  He then asked if we could be a fruit or vegetable what would we be and why?   I said I would be a cucumber.  Because of the phrase cool as a cucumber.  Meaning, I rarely lose my cool and can most of the time just roll with things.  Stupid I know, but what would you have said?

The next thing we did was listen to the Michael Jackson song "Man In The Mirror."  We were supposed to listen and see if any words or lines jumped out at us and stuck with us.  For me it was the line "You've got to stand up and lift yourself."  That line hit very close to me.  It is the whole reason I am here.  I think I depended on others for my happiness and to pick me up when I bottomed out.  But, nobody is responsible for my happiness but me, nobody can stand me back up and pick myself up and move forward but me.  And I feel I have done that or taken the first step in doing this by coming here and admitting myself for help.  I have taken that first step toward being happy again.  And I am taking the necessary steps to stand up and move forward.  No one else can do this for me but me.  What I mean is that people could suggest I come here and urge me to do so.  But in the end, I was going to have to be that person to stand up and lift myself and take that step to come be here.  

I am starting to see the benefit of being here as well.  I brought up journaling and he said that it is the best therapy there is because it allows you to get feeling out and make them reality on paper, it forces you to think about what you're saying and in turn makes you your own therapist of sorts.  What was cool was that after I talked about journaling 3 people asked if they could have journals as well.  I hope they take it seriously and get benefit from it.  You can't write as fast as you think so it really slows you down and forces you to think about what you're saying.  It's really pretty amazing.  

So now I am free until 5pm when dinner comes.  Not quite sure what is happening after dinner.  I know I will make another call home at some point.  But I think I'm going to lay down for awhile. 

Well, dinner is done and now what?  There are no planned groups or activities for tonight.  Tonight is visitation night.  I don't anticipate any visitors and that is ok.  I know people have other things to do and more pressing issues and that is fine.  I'll probably call home and talk to one of the boys.  I wonder what they think of all this?  I don't think they understand everything that is going on and they don't really need to know the details of everything.  I don't want them to think their dad is some crackpot who can't handle things.  But I also want them to see that you can bounce back from this or anything that they may face.  I know there is a stigma to mental health and having mental health problems.  I wish that stigma could be wiped away.  I too have thought people with mental health issues were crazy, so I am guilty of it too.  

But that old saying about walking a mile in someone else's shoes is dead on.  I never thought I would have mental health problems, but, here I am at 42 years old, depressed, thoughts of suicide, sitting in the mental health unit of the hospital.   It's not all padded rooms and straight jackets like they show on tv or in the movies.  It's real people, dealing with real issues, working hard to get better.  I've been lucky enough to hear their stories and share their feelings and have had the opportunity to share mine with them as well.  You can hear the pain in their voices when they tell their stories.  You can see they want desperately to get better and get back to their old selves.  

This experience has cast a whole new light on mental health problems.  Some are embarrassed to be here and some are here and don't want to leave until they can get back on their feet completely.  I'm not embarrassed to be here, it's part of who I am and this is only a chapter in a much bigger book call life.  I'm determined to make it through this and come out the other side, only stronger and with the ability to handle and cope with my mental health problems.

That's all I've got for now..

Until Next Time,

Be Well.....

8-20-2020 Day 2, Part 1

Day 2 here and this morning has been interesting to say the least.  I was in bed last night by 9:30pm and  slept until 6:45am.  I was not even aware that someone was sitting in my room all night.  It was a little awkward at first, but, I fell asleep with little problem.  It was however a little jarring to wake up and see someone sitting at the foot of your bed staring at you.  

I got up and got dressed and turned my C-Pap machine back in because I'm not allowed to keep it for reasons stated in an earlier entry.  I was sitting at my desk when I hear a knock at my door.  I said it was open and to come in, a girl walks in and the first thing she says is "Hi, we went to high school together, my name is...."   I instantly knew who she was as she was part of the group of friends that I ran with in high school.  We chatted for a few minutes, she wanted to make sure I would be comfortable with her being on my floor as we know each other.  I assured her that it was fine and she wished me the best and went on her way.  Not was I was expecting first thing in the morning but it's ok. 

I went to breakfast.  And I seem to have made a "friend" here.  I spoke of a guy earlier who claims to be a prophet and claims he is Jesus.   Yeah...  that guy.    He seems to seek me out whenever we happen to be in the same room.  He has sat with me and ate with me as well.   He is a nice enough guy, just a little out there.  But he is encouraging and that is nice.  He keeps telling that God has big things in store for me and to hang in there.  Then 10 minutes later he's trying to summon his angel named Michael to kill one of the nurses and says he is going to sue the hospital and that he will not lose that case because his lawyer is God and no one beats God in court.  What do you say to that??  

I spoke with a group leader about coping strategies.  We talked about keeping a journal and how it really helps to get your thoughts and feelings out and onto paper, therefore making them real and tangible.  So that gives me a group session under my belt.  It wasn't so bad really.  I made it out to be much worse in my head.  It wasn't the "Hi, my name is Rob and I'm depressed" type group.  It was just people sitting around in a circle sharing their stories and supporting one another, it was a nice thing to be a part of.  I will attend another group therapy session today at 1pm as well.  I will attend all I can so that they can see I'm making an effort here. All of this that I've talked about was before 10:30 this morning...  

I will be meeting with my doctor again today and I assume there will be multiple other meetings as well.  That is something I have picked up on is that there is always someone knocking on your door or asking you to come speak with them if they see you in the hallway.  Which is fine, it shows they care and want to see you get better.  

Speaking of feeling better, I am already starting to feel better after they adjusted my medication.  I can feel a difference in my mood and my outlook on things.  I think that keeping my journal and speaking to so many people, both patients and staff, has helped me tremendously.  I am hoping this progress translates into my getting discharged sooner rather than later.  

Just got done with lunch and it was actually pretty good.  I won't bore you with what I ate as I have been, I realize that it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things.  I got to speak with Jill (it's out 21st dating anniversary) and Alex.  I don't think Alex quite knew what to say, he was very quiet and only gave one word responses.  I'm sure he knows something is off and has thrown off things in his little world as well.  I was good to hear them though, even if it was just a rundown of how everyone is doing and then giving them a rundown of how my time here is going.   My lunch was however interrupted by another doctor visit.  But this one brought bad news, she gave me the results of my bloodwork and told me that I had high blood pressure to the point I will need medication for it. Then she asked if I ever had kidney problems and I said no.  She then tells me that my kidney function has trended down ever since 2018 and that some level (I forgot what it was called) was higher than they'd like.  So going forward that means no more Ibuprofen or Motrin which I take a lot for my headaches.  But apparently it can damage your kidneys if taken too much.  So now it's Tylenol only for me I guess.

I got to meet several new people in group today.  All of them were very nice and willing to talk which makes things easier because I am not good at small talk.  After I get done with my 1pm group therapy my day will be pretty much free.  There is an exercise group meeting at 3pm.  I think I'm going to take a hard pass on that group and focus on writing another journal.

Tonight is visitation night.  I'm not sure if I will have any visitors or not.  If I don't, I will understand.  People have things going on and I get that.  I'm really hoping to discharge by Saturday.  I really feel like I am doing well and feel like I have a better grip on things.  I guess time will tell.  We are closing in on my next group therapy session.  I will write more after that and fill in on how group went.

Until Then,

Be Well....

Day 1 - Part 2 8-19-20

Well, I just got done with dinner and it wasn't all that bad.  I had turkey, mashed potatoes, a roll, broccoli and some cheesecake.  They feed you pretty well here I'm starting to see.   I met with another nurse and social worker before dinner.  We went through all the things I enjoy doing in life.  I had to tell my story all over again.  This is probably the 5th or 6th time I've had to tell my story today.  The recreational therapist just knocked on my door and said they were doing yoga and meditation in the day room.  I'm still not comfortable with my surroundings so I am going to pass I think and just stay in my room and write some more.  Yoga isn't really my thing anyway as I'm not very bendy.  I'd end up looking like the tin man in Wizard of Oz before he was oiled.   I was actually just laying on my bed with my eyes closed when she came in so I think that counts as meditating right?  Speaking of beds, these beds leave a lot to be desired. 

It's one mattress that is about 4 inches thick and has zero support.  You hit the bed part as soon as you put any weight on it, so, sleeping should be interesting.  I'm really trying to not complain too much.  I realize I came here on my own free will and that no one made me come here.  

I just wish the time I get to be discharged wasn't so up in the air.  But I do realize that it is based on the progress I make while I'm here and that if I make the best of it and do what I'm supposed to I will get more out of it and in turn be released sooner rather than later.  I just have to keep reminding myself to do that.  The thing is these groups are pushing me past my comfort level.  Anyone that knows me will know I'm not one to stand up in front of a group of people and share anything.   I'm more reserved and happy to observe.  But, I know that I'm going to have to break these boundaries of my comfort level if I want to make any progress here. So I know what needs to be done.  It's just doing it that will be the big step.  It is a little more comforting knowing all these people here are in the same place I am.  Meaning they are struggling too and are here to get help.  

So for the time being I will stare out the window and watch the clouds go by as I write in my journal.

And I am grateful for writing.  It's funny how you take things for granted until they're taken away from you.  Maybe it's actually sad, I don't know.  From little things like having a cell phone, to having some of your freedoms taken away or restricted.  Even though I'm here on my own free will, I can't wait to leave.  I just read in my onboarding paper work that I can petition to get out of here.  The petition will be seen by my doctor and reviewed.  The decision to grant discharge will be made based on my progress, behavior, and whether or not they feel I am still a threat to myself.  Kind of sounds like I'm trying to get paroled. I know that the people here are just doing their jobs and are keeping me safe and   I know realistically that if I were to try to petition this early it would be denied.  I've only been here a day and have not really started any therapy, or have any real game plan set in place as of yet.  Knowing that I'm just trying to do what I can to get better and get home.  

I also found out that because I have a C-Pap machine that someone has to sit in my room all night while I sleep.  The reason I was given as to why was that my machine comes with cords and hoses and that it could be used to commit suicide if I was left unattended.  So they are just trying to make sure I don't hurt myself.  Again, I get it..  Just not sure what I think of it.  The thought of having someone watching me all night as I sleep ( or try to ) is a little creepy and unsettling.  But they have prescribed me some medication to help me sleep so I may take advantage of that help and hope it knocks me out so I don't have to think about someone watching me all night.  

This journal thing is pretty great.  I realize that it's basically just a blog in written form, and that I could have been doing this the whole time.  But the key word in that is "time"...  I have been given a lot of time while I'm here.  Time that I don't have when I am at home.  Work, kids, life, they all come into play when it comes to my time in the outside world.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade any of it just to get more free time.  But it has opened my eyes and made me see that I need to make more time for this.  Just today alone I've been able to write a lot and get stuff out that has been festering inside for a while now, and I feel better when I do it.  I know reading these may not seem significant, but trust me it is and it helps tremendously.  I'm not just writing to document my time spent here.  I'm writing about my experiences here, how they make me feel, and hopefully in retrospect I will be able to see progress being made.  If nothing else, it has shown me that I can still write when I want to.  Even if it is just me rambling on as I feel I have done in this journal.  But it's getting to be bed time for me.  I'll be back for more tomorrow.  

Until Then,

Be Well.....

* This was my first day in the mental health unit and 2nd day in the hospital overall.  I will continue to share these. Hopefully this momentum I feel I've built up doing this will continue now that I'm at home.*

MY NAME IS ROB, AND I'M NOT OK...

 My name is Rob, and I'm not ok.  Far from it.   I am currently on the 5th floor of Henry Ford Allegiance hospital.  This is my new home for now.  Today is my first day in the mental health unit and it's going to take some time getting used to.   But, lets back up and start at the beginning of the story that ended with my being here.   I am suicidal, more specifically, I have suicidal thoughts.  I have never acted on them  and I've never had a plan on how to do it, until recently.   I've battled depression for awhile now and had become pretty good at keeping it at bay and pushing it down until I thought it had passed.    The funny thing is, it never really goes away.  It may fade and you may feel a little better but it always comes back.  And this time it hit me harder than it ever has before. 

This time it had me questioning whether life would be better for those around me without me in it.   And I have had brief thoughts like this in the past but could quickly dismiss it and it would be gone.  But not this time.  This time it not only made me question things, but added a new twist, it made me really question if it would really matter if I was gone and what that may look like.  How would I make that happen?  I have never thought about how I would do it before, but this time I did.  Now don't get me wrong,  I wasn't sure if I could actually go through with it, but, I also didn't think I would actually think about how I would commit suicide.  But here I was thinking of the different ways of which I could do it and weighing the probability on if I could go through with it.  And in the midst of this I had what could only be described as a breakdown.  A break down for me consists of feeling completely hopeless and crying uncontrollably and wanting that pain and feeling to be stopped.  Only this time I was thinking of a way to end it permanently, not just a way to get it to go away for a little while.

I spoke to Jill about this and then contacted my therapist.  My therapist then told me that I needed to contact my personal physician and get in to see him.  So, I did just that.  I set up an appointment for the following day to go see my doctor.  In the middle of our appointment and explaining everything to my doctor I had another breakdown.  My breakdowns usually don't come this often and to this level.  My doctor was concerned about the fact I had a plan of how to do it and was even more uncomfortable with my answer when he asked if I was safe.  I told him that the little voice in my head (not the crazy kind of voice like another personality) that tells me not to go through with it was getting quieter and that I was afraid of that one time I felt suicidal and that voice falls silent.  So he advised me to go to the hospital to seek help.  I went home after that and discussed this with Jill and had another smaller breakdown.  And with that Jill drove me to the hospital.  

They took me to a room in the ER and that would end up being my home for the next 24 hours as they weren't sure they could get a room for me in that hospital, there was talks of sending me to Ferndale if they couldn't get a room for me in Jackson.  It honestly felt a little like prison.  The room I was in had one little chair, a bed, and a TV that was encased in a thick plastic case.  There was a community bathroom that had what could only be described as a prison style toilet and a sink.  Needless to say I didn't get much sleep that night, I probably slept 2-3 hours total that night.  I woke up for good at 5:56 the next morning and they brought me a breakfast plate that had a breakfast sandwich, some fresh fruit, and some coffee.  Along with this breakfast they brought me the news that they had indeed found me a room in the Jackson unit.   And with that they moved me upstairs to where I currently am.  

I won't lie, I cried for about the first hour I was in my room.  I think it was a combination of lack of sleep, fear of the unknown, anxiety, and not knowing when I would see my family again.  It also had something to do with that first time you see your room and it hits you what type of facility you are really in.   No TV, no clocks, no phone, only a bed, a small desk and a chair.  I did have my own bathroom that had basically a half a door that didn't really shut.   I was not allowed to have anything with strings, drawstrings or laces.  I was not allowed to have anything sharp.  I was not allowed to use regular kitchen utensils.  They had given me a cardboard type spoon to use in the ER to eat.  And they also took my cell phone and personal property away and locked it in a locker.  I am allowed visitors, but only on certain days at certain times.  It's very stark and cold here.  I've spent most of my day laying in my bed.  I've also met with a host of people who have become my "team".  Doctors, nurses, technicians, a psychiatrist, and my social worker.  It was honestly a lot to take in and it was one person after another coming to my room to talk or taking me to an interview room to get my story and ask me questions.  I've told my story so many times to so many different people that I'm sick of discussing it.  I know they just want to help but it feels like it's never ending but, I feel this is going to be the way it is until I get released. 

I've been told it could be as quickly as 2-3 days, others have told me 3-5, and one told me the average stay here is 1 full week.  So far we've changed the dosage of my medications, added another medication, and set me up with a gameplan to put into place for when I am finally released.   So we have definitely taken some steps today.  It just feels like an overload of information, telling my story, and answering the same questions just asked by 20 different people.   I've talked to Jill a couple of times today as we have community phones here that we can use between 6am and 10pm.   I just had to have more blood work and an EKG done so I had to stop writing for a few minutes. 

They do group therapy, community groups, recreational therapy and play games.  I was told that it would be in my best interest to participate in these groups and take full advantage of them as it will greatly benefit me and show my team that I'm serious about getting better.  I will admit that I skipped recreational therapy and stayed in my room.  But, I asked for a journal and a pen.  And I have been writing this for the last hour.  I feel that has to count for something right?

I also received a container with toiletries so that I can feel somewhat human.  I got a pair of sweatpants, a t shirt and some scrubs so that I can change when I want to.   This place is no joke.   I wasn't expecting a 5 star resort by any means, but, I was definitely not expecting this either.  Everyone here has been very nice and understanding. I just was not expecting such a culture shock.  It will take some getting used to for sure.  

I did get to meet a guy who says he is a prophet and claims to be Jesus, So I have that going for me.  He has taken a liking to me and refers to me and introduces me to others in the unit as his bodyguard and that if anyone wants to mess with him they have to go through me first...  Great...   Where ever I go if he shows up he comes right over and shakes my hand and checks in with me to see if everything is alright.  He's a good person, just a little off.  He means well.  I've already heard him snap on a nurse and was screaming for his Angel named Michael to come down and kill her.  He also claimed that God is his lawyer and that no case against him shall stand and they would never win.  So there is some entertainment in this unit for sure.  

I have no idea what my time here has in store, but I pray that I'm strong enough to get through this and find the good in it and find some practices and ways to cope to take home with me when all this is said and done.   This journal has been a good thing for me as just writing this alone has helped ease a little of the anxiety and allowed me to get some feelings out on paper.   I will take you on this journey with me if you are willing to come along.  It might not always be pretty and it might not always be interesting but I feel if I journal my time here it will help me greatly with getting feelings out, documenting what I had to go through here, and as a reminder of how far I've come in this journey.  

*That was my first day in the mental health unit.  Thank you for reading and please, if you have any questions do not hesitate to ask or if you have have comments you can leave them here, on my Facebook page, or email me at RefRobG15@gmail.com    I am going to be as open and candid about this as I can possibly be.  In hopes that if someone is struggling they can read my journey and know that things will get better and that there is  hope beyond the pain and despair that depression can bring. And that it is ok to not be ok.  I will update this with my journal and I plan on continuing to journal even though I am home now.  This has been an amazing tool for me and has the added benefit of making me write again.

Thank you for reading, leave comments if you have any, ask questions if you have any and I will update this again soon.

Until Next Time,
Be Well....