I am not going to lie. Arriving at the hospital for the first time was scary. I had no idea what to expect, the sort of patients I would be in with or what was going to happen. Even though I knew there was a huge problem somehow it still did not seem to be big enough for me to be in a hospital, it all felt very surreal.
As it turned out a majority of my fellow patients were just like me. Admittedly we all had very different backgrounds and triggers but overall there was none of the ‘scariness’’ I had been expecting (which of course was fuelled by stereotypes which we are fed to believe are true).
The structure of my time in hospital had the same components every day. First thing was an educational lecture, each day was a different subject; anxiety, sleep, how to use CBT on a daily basis, depression, and self-awareness and goals. Then we had group CBT. Followed by lunch. Then, a group session of interpersonal therapy. Last thing in the day was for relaxation, so things like mindfulness and yoga. One morning a week we also had art therapy, which at the beginning I refused to take part to as it was too close to my design background, but after time I grew to love it and look forward to it each week. I found a theme of balloons which were featured in every drawing (they were flying away, taking me away, on the verge of being popped or totally popped)
Although I learnt a lot in this time and there was significant progress, I was very drugged up as they were playing with meds to try and find what was best for me. Because I was so drugged up I could no longer do the one thing that made me feel slightly better – running.
When I was admitted I thought it would be great as I was near a beautiful park and could go running and train for the half marathon when I was not in groups. I tried a few times but because I was so drugged up I had no stamina and the few times I tried I ended up having huge panic attacks, so that was the end of that.
Another effect of being on so many meds was that I had a huge appetite for sweet things – especially brownies!!! Whenever anyone visited they would bring me some, of which I would eat them all. A result of this I put on a tremendous amount of weight, I felt out of control. This also affected my mood and self esteem as I was used to being a size 12 but now was a 16 (at least)+. I could only face loosing this weight 18 months later when I was ‘better’.
I was discharged after 8 weeks. I had a holiday booked and was determined not to miss it…perhaps this was a mistake.
I was doing fine until a few things happened in a row – my friend from hospital committed suicide which obviously effected me deeply (she was a beautiful and talented vet who had so so much going for her, she just could not see it). Along with this I had a few distressing events happening very close to each other.
Despite all this I somehow managed to complete my half marathon – which although I was very proud of there was also a huge come down. When I entered to do it I thought ‘I will definitely be better by then” but this ended up not true.
I then was deteriorating again so I was readmitted to hospital for a month while they played around with my meds.
I was discharged the week before Christmas which was the best present!!