Episode 9- The First Few Nights

That first night, as you can imagine, was nerve wracking. Cody and I tried our best to act as if everything was as it had been a few short weeks before. We did our typical night time routine with Ethan, and let me say how refreshing it was to be back home with my sweet boy who seemed to always smell like soggy Cherios. That night I popped my pills, waited a few minutes to start feeling the affect, then Cody and I climbed into bed as if nothing was different.

It was strange lying in bed looking at that different spot on the celing. It was calming in a way, but it felt like the first night in a new home and I was very apprehensive. I lied there trying my best to relax and drift off to sleep, but my mind wouldn't let me and before long that all too familiar feeling of panic crept up on me. I could hear Cody snoring softly which told me he was already asleep. I was terrified of disturbing him, so I got up and went out into the living room.

I sat in the couch and starred into the dark. Still trying to keep my nerves at bay, I decided to take an extra 50 mg of Trazadone. What could it hurt? It was a higher dose than what was on the drug vial, but I knew I had been given much higher doses while in the hospital. The rest of that night was spent in and out of restless sleep.

The next night was even worse. Jane decided to stay the night after spending all day with me and seeing that I really needed help. That night started out the exact same but around midnight I had a massive panic attack. I recall Jane and Cody kneeling by me as I lied on the living room floor crying and hyperventilating. Jane was doing her best to calm me down by having me do some simple breathing exercises. I kept screaming at her to shut up and leave me alone. I was an absolute mess and I was out of control.

I took another Ativan and a while later they turned the lights out and put a movie on. I remember it was "Now And Then", that movie with Demi Moore and Rosie O'Donald. I put my head in Cody's lap and he gently stroked my hair as I drifted off to sleep. I'm pretty sure that Cody was up almost all night making sure that I stayed calm and comfortable there on the couch. Oh if we could have seen the road that lie before us.

Episode 8- The Return Home

Going home was filled with bittersweet feelings for me. All I wanted was to get back to normal, to regain a sense of order and predictablity like my life once revolved around. Cody and I left the hospital and went straight for the pharmacy to get my prescriptions filled.

I had been to that Kmart pharmacy many times for various reasons, but as the Pharmacist did his typical consult about these particular drugs, I was filled with shame and remorse. What had I done? How could I continue to posion my baby in such a way? He probably thought I was a disgusting and horrible person. Why couldn't I deal with these mysterious issues on my own with out drugs? Why would I put my own health above that of my baby? As a mother, I had grown acustomed to putting myself second before my son. I think it is just an insitinct as a mother. Yet here I was, knwingly hurting my unborn baby and I wasn't about to stop. I was a terrible person for it.

As we walked into our apartment, a creepy feeling of deja-vu engilfed me. It was so familar to me. We had spent two years in this home. Our family had started here and numerous beautiful memories were made. But also, the memories of recent weeks came flooding back to me. The horror, the confusion, the nightmares, the hallucinations...and the Monster.

Jane was still in town and Cody's Dad, Allan, had also come in to help. They decided to re-arrange our apartment while we were gone. When we walked in they were in the middle of making the final touches. Our bedroom was completely different. The bed was moved, the dresser, desk, everything. They figured it was bad for me to come back into the place and have it look the same. The last thing I needed was to lie back down in that bed and stare at the same spot on the ceiling. They thought I needed a new spot. Turns out they were right because when I saw that things looked differently, I breathed a small sigh of relief. In a way I felt like I was getting a fresh start. It's funny that something as simple as changing furniture around helped me with the transition back home.

That afternoon I sat on my bed as everyone continued to unpack my things and finish with our newly changed apartment. I sat there and began my Bliss Jounral, something that Chris the Buddhist had suggested I write. I started by listing all of the things I could think of that I was grateful for. Sunshine, family, Ethan, the gospel, slip 'n slides, swimming pools, Texas, air comditioning, high heels, pretty earrings...the list went on and on. I would continue to add to that journal on a daily basis. Whenever I started to feel panic, anxiety, depression, or anything that could get me down, I was to write anything down that was positive and happy. Chris' reasoning behind this journal was "fake it until you make it".

Busy

This has been a very busy week! I will try to update this blog on Saturday. Sit tight!

Episode 7- The Release

There are million details about my hospital saga that I'm leaving out because it is so long and so depressing. I had mixed feelings about my release. I was so excited to get back my little boy, but I was terrified of being on my own again. Aside from what I'd learned from Chris, I had no tools other than a new collection of medication. There was still no solid explanation of my disorder. Upon release, you have to have a "support" system in place.

#1- You have to have friends and/or family to help you in a time of turmoil.

#2- You have to have a psychologist set up with an imminent appointment.

#3- You have to have a medical doctor who can prescribe you meds, preferably a psychiatrist.

I would continue seeing Schneiman. So far he had been the only doctor to help in any way. For my meds, Dr. Brown had been contacted and had a conference with my psychiatrist from the hospital. He agreed and felt comfortable handling my meds and my prenatal care from there on out.

In my discharge orders, the psychiatrist gave me prescriptions for the meds which I had been on during my lengthy stay. Trazadone, Ambien, Ativan, and Xanex. He only gave me a one month supply in my Rx. So I was to leave the hospital, fill my prescriptions, and never call them again. As soon as I walked through those doors I was on my own and they would wash their hands of me.

As I walked through the big electronic doors of the 4th floor, the doors which I had never been aloud to go near unless a doctor or nurse was with me, I felt so scared. What would happen in the real world? How would I handle things? What if I stopped sleeping again? My mind was cluttered with fears and concerns. I knew things would never be the same when I left there. Things seem permanently altered from what they had been weeks before.

Episode 6- OCD

During my life I have always been a perfectionist in some aspects. I think that most of us are to some degree. Perfectionism can be a great thing, but as I stayed in the hospital the doctors took my level of perfectionism and maginified it several degrees. They theorized that it was why I snapped. They tried to label me OCD.

It really bothers me when people take this serious disorder and label themselves this. It is so severe and if you've ever met someone who genuinely has it, you should thank your lucky stars that you are not OCD...you just like order in your life.

I was shocked that the doctors labeled me this, but I see why they did so. It's an easy fix with medication. Many of our one on one sessions included "treatment" for this disorder. And when I say treatment, I mean an increased dosage of one thing or another.

This is what really makes me loathe psychiatrists. As I said before, they seek out drama in patients who don't have any to offer. They did this to me time and time again. They take a tiny instance of insanity and enlarge it 1000x until you actually believe that you must be crazy or diseased. And they are not interested in really fixing the underlying problem.

Not once during my stay there did a doctor try to figure out what happened that night. I know now exactly what happened to me, but it's taken me three years to figure it out. If only someone had thrown away their Rx pad and not imediately thought to add this med or that med to the mix. Figure out what happened that night of July 4th and fix the problem. No one ever did that. Instead I was left with an incredible amount of medication, absolutely no freedoms or rights, a fetus I was sure had been harmed, and doctors who thought I had been molested as a child.

Episode 5- The Hospital

Imagine what you have seen in the movies about psych hospitals. Yes, it was almost that bad.

Most, if not all, of the patients in there had severe problems that had been with them for years. Each day I attended group after group session. Oh talk about depressing. It was so dangerous for me to hear people's stories. Abuse, molestation, death, multi-personalities, attempted suicide, rape, drug addiction, depression, etc. The list is infinite of the things I listened to hour after hour. If you weren't depressed upon arrival at the facility, within a few hours you would want to put a bullet into your own brain.

Whenever it came time for me to talk I was at loss of what to say. I had no crazy stories to tell. My life up to that point had been so textbook and boring in a way. Boring in a GOOD way, in fact. I couldn't explain to people that I really had no problems or issues up until July 4th when something snapped in my brain. However, psychiatrists are not interested in hearing boring stories. They searched and prodded through my brains until they could come up with something that satisfied their need for drama. I hated group!

Every other night was a group session that I looked forward to. The counselor's name was Chris and he was a practicing Buddhist. In that group we sat around and we were not aloud to talk about anything negative. We discussed ways to cope through very positive and drug free methods. Each night I would walk out of there feeling so alive and hopeful. I loved Chris! I would later take the principles I learned from him and apply them in my life. And it is those principles that I still use on a daily basis all this time later.

Drugs were thrown at me from every angle. Sleep did not come to me unless I was heavily medicated, and even then it was weak and restless. The doctors in there decided that Ativan should be my best friend. I could tell within a week that I was craving it and I would get the shakes hours before my next dose. They told me not to worry because Ativan was not addicting. Oh how they lied to me.

On one occasion a new demon was introduced into my life. Trazadone. On one of my firsts nights there they gave me 100 mg of Trazadone to take. The next morning I was filled with unexplainable rage. All day long I cried and screamed and hated the world. The doctors took this to mean that I was anxious and unmanageable so they upped my dosage of Ativan. Then a higher dose of Ambien would follow at night. It's no wonder that we walked around with drool hanging from our mouths. They kept me so medicated that I could barely tell up from down. I would later discover I had a severe addiction to Trazadone that almost took my life.

Ethan and Cody came to see me on a few occasions and it was miserable. I wasn't the same mommy that Ethan had known just days before. I was crazy and he could tell. Cody and I would sit there in silence, neither of us knowing what to say. Before my release he came up to the hospital for a "family meeting" between us and a counselor. That meeting was almost the end of our marriage. We were so confused and scared and we didn't know what to do from there. I knew in my heart that I entered the facility as a scared girl with some sort of unexplained disorder, but I was leaving as a drug addict. Cody knew this too.

Episode 4- The Monster

The monster stayed with me all night long. Cody says that is what I called the dark figure that I saw and heard. Tuesday morning Jane came over again and she forced me to eat. She all but shoved food into my mouth and made me chew and I gagged and cried as I ate it.

By late morning Cody and I were sitting back in Schneiman's office. I don't remember much from that session, but I do recall sitting there again wearing dark sunglasses and telling him about the moster. Cody and Schneiman were both afraid as I relayed the experience. I remember Schneiman asking me point blank "Do you want to drink the Drain-O?.....Do you think you will hurt yourself or someone else?" I think the latter question must have been directed more at Cody because I was pretty incoherent.

Schneiman made some phone calls and later that day I was sitting in an evaluation room on the 4th floor of the hospital. The entire 4th floor was the psychiatric unit. I was very out of it, but I was aware enough to be terrified at the thought of staying in that place. It was much like out of a movie with patients walking around in hospital clothes with looks of despair on their faces. Doctors wandered the halls in white lab coats and it smelled of industrial strength cleaner.

I sat on the bed in my room as a counselor asked me many questions. What day is it, what is the year, who was the first U.S. president, what is your address, count backwards from 10, remember this series of words and repeat it to me later...etc. After she left the room another guy came in and drew several viles of blood. Then a nurse came in, gave me a couple of pills, and she left a tray of food that I was forced to eat. The amount of food eaten, I'd come to find out, would be recorded after each meal.

I sat in that cold and sterile room and felt so alone and small. My world had just been ripped out from under me and I was helpless. I kept thinking about the baby in my belly and at that moment I hated it. I wanted desperately to end the pregnancy. Maybe I'd fall down the stairs. Maybe I'd trip and fall on a knife and if I was lucky, I would die too. The pills the nurse had given me, whatever they were, kicked in and the room began to spin. The next thing I knew it was dark outside.