Bipolar Support Group

The place filled with the damned. Larger than a drunk tank, freezing cold, with nothing but dirty sinks, showers and gym mats on the floor to sleep on. The sheets were so thin they were transparent. I arrived with my hospital gown on. I wasn't given my own clothes to wear.

This was the first time in my whole life I had my freedom taken away. I could not stop crying. I don't mean little tears falling and sniffles....I mean wailing. The stupid nurses looked at me with disgust. I was coming off of a benzo bender. I was evaluated and asked questions.....I admitted I was afraid of the dark so they threw me into a solitary room with lights kept on. A white, empty room with a thin mat to sleep on. Concrete walls, concrete floor. I woke after 2 hours sleep for blood pressure checks. Confused, scared out of my MIND, and sick, I asked the nurses when I could go home, They condescended to me about "the doctor don't get here til 11, blah blah"

I refused to accept the food, coffee, soap, toothpaste or water they offered. It was tainted. Tainted with the stench, the poison of this place. All I did all morning was cry. I sat in my little concrete prison, in the corner, and cried. I refused to talk to anyone. I used the payphone to call my husband and begged him to get me outta here. He refused to talk to me.

Later, he told me I sounded nuts, crazy, sad, and terrified. I was scared of the other people wandering around.....drunks, schizos, people detoxing, crazy people all around me. The cold, the goddamn cold....I wrapped myself with a sheet best as I could and waited.

By three o clock I was near delerious from no food or water, and I smelled bad. Still the water here was "tainted"

I saw the doctor. I acted like nothing was wrong with me. I calmly explained that I would very much like to go home. The doc was unconvinced. One hour later, after I was convinced I was going home, the cunt of a nurse came and told me that I would be spending another night in hell. The doctor wanted to wait and see.

I flipped out.

I screamed so loud that they all came running, nurses, aids, patients. I had such a tantrum, screaming, begging on my knees, crying.

I threatened not to eat or drink until they let me go. I sure as shit would have made good on that promise.

The only good thing was this one aid, this woman, who was generally kind, came and talked to me like I was a person....not just a problem.

I continued to sit in my cell. I was frantic with thirst. I could barely choke out a word.

Another doctor agreed to see me. I was taken to a room with several therapists, nurse, and aids. They agreed for my own sake to let me out with a plan to come back and see a doctor the following week for pills. I played along, thanked them, said I felt fine. I even kept up the game by accepting a sandwich for lunch, and some juice. I took two bites and threw it up....to this day I cannot eat tuna fish, because I now associate it with the bad place.

I took a cab back home. I scalded the smell of that place off of me with a hot shower. I drank a gallon of water, and slowly ate some food.

My husband was not acting well towards me. He complained of me "wanting attention"....causing trouble, being a bitch. I ignored him. I cleaned up the blood in my closet from where I had slit my wrists (little scratches, no stitches) and calmly cleaned my house.

I went to visit my family in MD. I arrived a shitting mess, and relaxed for a week before I got home.

When I did go home, my husband told me he was thinking about leaving. He wanted children, but I was too "broken" to care for them.

I curled up in a ball and contemplated my future.

I decided damn him....damn them......damn the bad place......I would get better on sheer will, because I'm a stubborn woman if nothing else.

I saw the doctor, was diagnosed extreme bipolar and GAD, got my pills, and took them faithfully. I educated myself on this ailment, and read books, and took the advice in the books.

I'm in school, making a better future for myself.

I'm there for anyone going through this...anyone who's ever been scared, or alone, or if you want to die....I have been there....I know.

I thought I had died and gone to hell....but the real hell is inside our minds.

people say that the strong never have to go through this........well fuck them.....the real strong are those who have lived through it and get out of bed the better for it ...

I will never end up in the bad place again

ever

Thanks for sharing and offering your help to others.

You are such an asset to us here at MDJ, thanks so much for sharing that horrid experience, that was so very brave of you, you are in my prayers for further healing.