I could not bring myself to attend the support group session this morning. I probably should have gone but I felt awful and quite emotional. I attended the two educational group sessions that followed and bade a sincere farewell to staff and patient alike along the way. I am sure that none of my fellow patients have an awareness of how I feel about them – I am content to leave it that way. A couple of patients did however give me their contact details, which was both unexpected and comforting. I plan to follow up those fragile offers soon and initiate a simple correspondence.
The time from the moment I awoke to the arrival of my fiancé and parents to take me home engendered a contradictory duality in me. On the one hand the day seemed to pass torturously slow as I could not wait to be back with the love of my life. On the other the day elapsed much too quickly for my comfort – the thought of leaving seemed unreal and discomforting.
I wished for my very own Groundhog Day in which I could take solace in the sanctuary of the hospital without any further worry or stress for my loved ones.
Ultimately I was returning to the eventuality of the duties that I had considered only two weeks ago to be beyond my ability to maintain. My issues and the attributes associated with my diagnoses are my cloud. A constant. There is much that compounds and magnifies to make that cloud darker. Much darker. And larger. So I felt desperate and I still do. The reassurances I have been receiving cannot pull me free of this sinking feeling. My hope is that the therapist I will see for the first time tomorrow will help me heal enough before I sink completely.
The drive home involved rising anxiety and a faint, desperate and entirely unreasonable wish that I was being driven to a more affordable refuge. My parents left late after conversations and an easy meal. The concern on their faces as we said our goodbyes and on that of my fiancé as we hugged soon after makes me angry at myself – why can’t I just be well and lighten their loads. I know what they would say to that but I care about them too.
I am now lying in bed at 2am and this morning was actually yesterday. The anxiety fluctuated wildly all evening yet now that I am here exhausted but unable to sleep with my caring and loving fiancé by my side it is becoming more bearable.
The last two weeks have changed the dynamics of my situation massively. My time at the hospital has made me realise just how complex, varied and numerous my issues are.
I have waited over thirty years to get the help I hope to start receiving tomorrow. The help to heal the damage in some way. I no longer want to fear that normal life may at any time push my unstable mind over the precipice. Turning the cloud into a storm…