Sometimes an outsider has the sharpest vision, like an out-of-town sister telling you how much your kids have grown since she saw them last. When she arrived home she called another friend, Joani.
She was crying at karate. The last person I saw that depressed is dead. The next day Joani knocked on the door. But instead of having amazing sex with Eric during his lunch hour yeah right, I was crying the entire time , I listened to Joani tell me how concerned some of my friends were. I called my doctor to tell him I was going to the hospital.
It was absolutely the right thing to do. Eventually willpower wilts. And that day was getting closer for me. My friends knew that Eric was planning on taking the kids to California to visit their newborn cousin Tia for four days.
Did they know that three-quarters of me had planned my suicide for then? But no sooner did those pills hit my throat than I regretted my actions. Still, I was afraid to be a burden to anyone by telling them something was wrong. I texted several friends who lived near me—"you up? When I said no, she got in a cab, picked me up, and brought me to the hospital. My tears dripped into her lap. I was doing yoga and running. I was journaling my heart out.
If there had been any other way to proactively improve my mental health, I would have tried it. I even glommed onto crystals , desperately seeking a tactic that could take away my pain.
If you followed me on Instagram, of course it looked like my life was great. It looked like I was thriving. But if you were in my head before I went to sleep at night, it was quite the opposite. In less than an hour, I was again asking for something, anything that would help slow my thoughts down. We went to another hospital where, after what seemed like a million questions, I was admitted to the inpatient psychiatric unit. I had to get worse before I got better.
I got the best support from other patients on the unit. I had something in common with most of them, and with long stretches of time between groups and educational sessions, we learned a lot about each other. My roommate was especially kind, considering it took me several more nights to actually sleep. In retrospect, my first hospitalization was absolutely necessary.
Had I not gotten help, I might have put myself into danger or hurt someone else. Needing more medication adjustments, I crashed into a depression and was re-admitted to the hospital, where I again tried new medications, and this time they worked. I stayed out of the hospital for a year and a half and returned to school and work. In response to additional stress in my life, I stopped sleeping again, and my thoughts started racing again. I checked into the hospital again.
This time, I thought I knew everything about myself and my illness and made myself very difficult to get along with. The third hospitalization was a wake-up call for me.
I realized that if I wanted to have the chance to live my life uninterrupted, I would need to take some responsibility for my treatment and life. I had a lot of learning to do. In the years that followed, I went on and off of various medications and had a lot of therapy. Inpatient treatment for depression at Alvarado Parkway Institute.
At Alvarado Parkway Institute, we believe every human has a unique calling and purpose for their lives. And all too often, depression, addiction, and other mental health conditions keep people from accessing or realizing their potential. Our inpatient depression treatment program helps those who suffer from depression learn to manage their symptoms, overcome their obstacles, and find meaning and joy in life once again.
To start your recovery, give us a call at or fill out our contact form today. Suicide is always on your mind When feelings of depression and despair become unbearable, it can begin to seem like death is the only way to stop the suffering.
Inpatient treatment for depression at Alvarado Parkway Institute At Alvarado Parkway Institute, we believe every human has a unique calling and purpose for their lives.
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