Hospitalized

 This post was written in a notebook I was given while hospitalized over seven days.

[Oct 3, 9:50 am]

So, I was hospitalized. I figured I could write a blog post from here, on paper, and later transcribe it. It was one of the scariest things I’ve done, but it was very much necessary. I couldn’t handle my emotions anymore, I was crying frequently, spent the day in bed, couldn’t do my homework, and began feeling unsafe after the voice in my head finally managed to influence my actions, and I began doing very reckless things. My suicidal ideations became stronger, and combined with my declining will live, I just didn’t feel safe at all.

I decided I should admit myself to a psych ward where I would be taken care of and get help. I was going to come on Saturday after my first breakdown, but I just couldn’t do it. I never told my mom about my symptoms or about using the 988 chat. I got through the weekend mostly sleeping on my bed and lying on the floor. At night, when I got some mysterious energy, I attempted to do my homework, but no matter how long I took I simply couldn’t draw a single thing. On Sunday, my friends from Hillel were going apple picking for Rosh Hashanah at a farm in Morristown, I decided not to go because I didn’t feel like hanging out with people, much less capable of driving myself there.

During the two weeks leading up to my hospitalization, the voice, I began hearing a while, back became stronger. It told me things such as, “pick up a knife and stab yourself,” or “throw yourself down the stairs,” or “step on the gas pedal.” Most of those are very intrusive thoughts that I suddenly began hearing being spoken. The last one actually happened, I stepped harder on the gas pedal while in the fast lane, and I ended up getting closer to the barrier and drove over the vibrating grooves. This contributed to me feeling unsafe and I determined it wouldn’t be good to keep driving, especially to school, which is 20 miles away.

Sunday night I had another breakdown, I was crying uncontrollably, the voice wouldn’t shut up, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I somehow fell asleep, I can’t remember how. I woke up at 6 am because I didn’t delay my alarm the night before. I heard mom leaving for work, and I ended up getting up three hours later.

I was determined to come to the hospital, so I took a quick shower and packed my things. I wouldn’t drive myself here, so I decided to walk, it’s just one street, one mile. I crossed the street into the hospital and walked outdoors towards the emergency department. I was told to go to pediatric since I’m still under 21. I told the person there that I wanted to admit myself, and she gave me a bracelet. In triage, the nurse asked me why I came in. I told her I didn’t feel safe, that I’ve been hearing voices telling me to hurt myself. She said it was good I came in. Inside the ER I was told to put on hospital scrubs and I was assigned a bed in a hallway. Someone sat nearby and stared at me the whole time; I thought they were just resting there, but later I learned that they were actually there to watch over me. Before they took my things away I managed to talk to mom and tell her that I was at the hospital. Her tone seemed as if it wasn’t significant that I was at the hospital. They eventually took my things and my phone, so I decided to lie down against the wall.

I overheard them say that I was being moved, but they had to wait until security came. A security guy came, and together with the nurse pushed my bed into the “blue zone.” The area had double doors, they had to wait for the first to close before opening the second. Before going into my assigned room, a police officer scanned me with a metal detector. I was left in a blue room with a brick bed, a TV in a box, and a camera. I began thinking, “What have I done?” Almost immediately, someone told me that I had a visit. My mom came in shortly after; she seemed worried and asked me what happened. I told her about my symptoms, and she understood. We had a very interesting conversation. Apparently, she was too at the hospital, she came for some x-rays. An attendant at radiography helped her find me. I apologized for hiding my symptoms from her, she apologized for telling me mean things, she said she has been irritable since she broke her wrist. Our talk went on until visit hours were over, but it was very good. She told me things will change, and that we’ll get over this. I felt comforted and much calmer than before.

Sometime later, they moved me to the inpatient area upstairs, it was 10 pm—I arrived at the ER at 1 pm. All throughout my stay in the ER many people asked me the same things: What do the voices say? Do I see any things? Do I want to hurt myself? I guess that because of my answers, I was told I would be assigned a sitter, and they would have to follow me around all the time, so that was annoying, but I guess it was necessary.

They went over my things again, I was allowed to keep my clothes—they pulled the strings from my jacket—and nothing else. I was given a quick tour of the unit and then left to wait at the front desk for an hour until the sitter arrived. When she did, I went into my room, changed into my clothes, and went to sleep. I was very paranoid about having someone watch me sleep the whole night; I even began thinking that she would hurt me, which made no sense! She was there to make sure I didn’t hurt myself, why would she hurt me! But anyway, it was hard to fall asleep, but I eventually did.

My second day was still awkward. The sitter accompanied me everywhere. I felt paranoid about going to the dining hall since it’s always busy, I could just feel the stares. I had pancakes for breakfast; a man called Pietro complimented my cutting of my pancakes in eight exact pieces. After breakfast, I went back to my room and fell asleep. I was very tired, I spent most of my day in bed.

At some point, they called me to meet the care team and to sign my plan of care. The psychiatrist said I have ‘mood disorder,’ as well as the voices and other hallucinations. Later, when I saw him one to one, he ruled I don’t need a sitter, which was great; the voices have stopped during my stay here. He also explained, I experience severe anxiety and severe depression. He put me on an antidepressant and an antipsychotic, none of which I have managed to remember the names of. I felt much more comfortable without a sitter, and I had my first dose of the new meds at night. My head began hurting, but nothing too bad.

On my second day, I felt much better and much less paranoid. I participated in groups, I talked to people, I assembled a parrot with stickers, and later played board games with others—I asked if I could join them. I stayed most of the day in the dining hall, which was very surprising, and also talked to other people. I don’t think it’s the meds that took the paranoia away, I mean, that’s going to happen, but with time, not after one dose, but I was happy. I stayed a while longer in the dining hall after mostly everyone left, I was building things with Jenga. I built a tower, a pagoda, a house; I was having fun. 

Yesterday, Rosh Hashanah started! לשנה טובה I told them if I could talk to a Rabbi but no one came, but it was okay. I wrote L’Shanah Tovah with Jenga, lol. At night I prayed like I hadn’t in a while, it was good. I recited/sang Ahavat Olam, recited Shema, and during the day I also sang Al Kol Eileh, and didn’t feel self-conscious to do it.

My mum has visited me every day, it’s nice. She’s been missing me and I’ve been missing her. She told me to work hard to get better.

After the Jenga, I went to get my meds and then went to my room to sleep. I was having trouble, falling asleep, I had that weird energy I feel at night. I’ve never taken any meds for sleep, so I figured here would be a good place to try. I stood up and went to the nurse’s station and asked for something to help me sleep. They gave me a pill of Trazodone.

Today after breakfast, I asked if I could get a notebook and spend the whole morning writing this post. Some nursing students from Montclair came by to hang out. I talked for a while to one of them. It was surprising seeing people from school here.

[1:15 pm]

Doctor just called me. Apparently, the risperidone, the antipsychotic works right away, so it does make sense that I feel much less paranoid and open to talk to people, it’s just impressive. I mean, walking into the dining room, doesn’t fill me with fear, it’s awesome. So yeah, he says that’s exactly what should be happening.

So that’s it for now. I was told I’m being discharged on October 7th. I hope I can make it to the commemoration at night. While a nurse was changing the channel on the TV, I saw there was a devastating attack in Israel in Tel Aviv, where nothing has really happened. Looks like Iran retaliated for the killing of Nasrallah, but this time it was really bad. Yom Kippur is coming and I can only imagine there might be a massive attack like always, hopefully not.

But anyway, I’m just happy not to feel paranoid, it’s great to keep my head up and talk to people, it’s great. I’m going to do another of those sticker mosaics because I’ve been writing all morning and my hand is done.

[7:40 pm]

The rest of the day has gone well. I still cannot get over how the meds have taken my paranoia mostly away. I’ve been talking to more people and participating in groups, and I don’t get terribly overwhelmed during meal time. After my mom visited me, I decided to call my friend Liz again and see if she would pick up.

She did pick up, she saw my message I left some days ago. She said she’s been missing me in class, and offered to email teachers to tell them I would be missing some classes due to medical reasons, she’s so nice. We talked about my stay, about the food, the people, and how I’m feeling with the meds. She told me she’s also been hospitalized before, and told me she’s proud of me to have come here on my own. I was happy I could talk to her. So, on weekends we are actually allowed two visitors at different times, so I told her if she’d like to visit me, I’ll be calling her tomorrow to tell her to visit times. She also said I have so many things to catch up on from school, so that’s exciting.

But yeah, I’m doing well, the other day I caught myself bobbing my arms side to side while walking down the aisle, a clear indicator that I’m happy.

[Oct 4, 8:50 pm]

Today I felt a bit of paranoia, I kept my head down during groups, and a ‘shape’ on the roof out the window took the illusion of a person to me until I looked at it and turned out to be just a pipe. My doctor says it’s okay, I’m on a very low dose, so today he increased the risperidone dose to 1 mg and my escitalopram dose to 10 mg, and said that my home target dose. So, we’ll see how it goes tomorrow.

Even though I felt a bit of paranoia today, I spent most of the day in the dining room. I attended many groups throughout the day. One highlight is from the spirituality group. We began talking about people pleasing and how we can sometimes forget to take care of ourselves while being preoccupied with others. I remembered how when I hold the door for someone, sometimes they don’t hold it after me or don’t say thanks; or when I’m on the bus, I make sure I’m not being annoying to others, so I watch my knees and avoid bumping the seat in front of me,…

[Oct 5, 9:30 am]

(I went to take a shower last night and had to give the pen back.) …however, the person behind me keeps bumping my seat and makes me wonder why do I even care. But those small gestures feed the good wolf, and why would you feed a wolf, it’s gonna grow and eat you. The metaphor is that if you’re always people pleasing, you’re going to sacrifice things you perhaps shouldn’t, you’re going to be stressed, anxious, overcritical, and that’s not good. You have to find the balance of self-care and being considerate of others. The good wolf will keep growing, and it might just take care of you like a pet. So be thankful, give back, and you’ll be rewarded to know you’re a good person. This definitely sounded better in group yesterday, but well; I don’t even remember what the bad wolf is supposed to do, but the whole thing was very nice to hear.

Another highlight was at night, there's a Jewish guy named Mitchell, Shabbat had just started, so I decided to tell him 'Good Shabbos.' He was surprised, and I proceeded to tell him about my conversion. He, surprised asked why, so I told him I love the religion, I love the people. He said, "Mazal Tov! Welcome to the tribe, Judaism will welcome you with open arms." That was very nice to hear. I would be shaking in fear before, coming up to someone and greeting them, but now I just went, "Hey Mitch, Good Shabbos." I felt great.

I have been very happy about those things I would be terrified to do before. I say 'Hey' to people walking down the hallway, I ask people if I could join them at their table, I go up to people and ask them how their day went, its truly awesome, those things would be unthinkable for me to do before; I wanted to do them, but the paranoia wouldn't allow me. So, I am very excited about going to school again, I can't wait to get on the bus and see if I feel the stares. They are not staring at me, but I feel like they are. When I walk down an aisle and there's someone walking in my direction, I hope I won't be forced to keep my head down. And in the classroom, I hope to talk to my classmates more; we've been together for one year now, and I still don't really talk to anyone. This is the person I'm supposed to be, but couldn't.

Last night I began wondering where the voices come into my mood disorder, I've just thought of it, and I think I won't see the psychiatrist until Monday, or maybe not at all. That's why I thought I was in the prodromal phase of schizophrenia; voices, paranoia, ideas of reference, hallucinations, negative symptoms, that does look like something on the schizophrenia spectrum. But well, I think its good I got antipsychotic meds which are helping me.

[2:10 pm]

I asked a social worker a couple hours ago about the voices and she said that with a mood disorder, if you are feeling extreme depression, intrusive thoughts can sometimes be too loud that they take the shape of a voice. That's how I described it down in the ER, it's hard to differentiate between a voice and very intrusive thoughts.

But yeah, everything looks good, I feel much better, and I'm ready to go back to school.

[Oct 6, 8:45 am]

It’s been a meh weekend, not much has happened. My friend Liz was going to visit me yesterday, but she arrived late and they didn’t let her in, but well, I’m glad she wanted to visit me. She helped me email teachers to tell them I would be missing classes for medical reasons she said my teacher Panico has been worried so I told her less it would be okay for her to know I was in the hospital for mental health reasons. I actually told her to tell teacher that I am voluntarily in a psych ward, but that sounds better. It’s okay she knows, I will tell her later myself.

I feel my hair is all knots, I don’t have a brush, I thought I brought it, but I guess I didn’t. I also have some annoying face hairs, I can’t shave of course. Before I came in, I took a shower and shaved. I kept the tea packet strings from tonight‘s snack to pluck those hairs out somehow.

[10:50 pm]

So, this is my last night, I’m excited to go home. I want to go to school, a feeling I didn’t have at the start of the semester. I’m gonna go to an IOP, but I think I can fit it around my classes because I’m going to have so much stuff to catch up on.

I met so many people here, from all walks of life, with different issues, and even though people come and go, it feels like a family. We support each other, encourage each other. It feels like a show with recurring characters and everybody has their little knack.

I feel I’ve been forming a connection with everyone, even though sometimes don’t get along with each other.

There’s Diane, an older lady, she’s nice, she says I look a lot like her knees. Once she got up mad for Mitch saying he doesn’t drive Volkswagen because of the Shoah. Diane thinks people should get over the Holocaust, which I don’t agree with. However, she’s still very nice, I talk to her if I see her in the hallway and during lunch.

Then there’s Paul, he’s kind, quiet, he started talking to me, he made me some tea. I think he’s comfortable around me. He doesn’t like Trevor because he thinks he’s an asshole.

Lastly, Trevor, I’ve been talking to him the most, like actual, long conversations—which again, very rare of me. I don’t agree with his opinion that I don’t belong here, or that he doesn’t belong here, or that this place is built for the Justins, or the Pietros, but I sort of laughed and nodded slightly when he said it—no one was near us. I constantly ask him how his day is going, if he’s got any visits coming. We’re like very close. He saw me drying my hair with a hairdryer and he went, “What, look at the special treatment, I didn’t get a hairdryer!” And I replied, “For what hair?” He laughed and said, “You’re a real one,” and high fived me. He wants to get out of here, he wants to be with his son, his dog. He’s been struggling with the fact that people from his own household, have not visited him, but people he has not seen in years have. One of his cousins even flew in from Mexico. I’ve been there nodding along, saying ‘you’ll be home soon,’ ‘it all goes up from here.’ We were mocking things like having to get a new toothbrush each time you need it. The faucet is literally just a ball sticking out. The handles are blocked on one side, so you cannot put your hand through, and things like that. Today we did some origami, he told me, “I’m gonna remember you forever lady.” And some minutes ago he said to me, “You’ve helped me a lot to get through this.” I’m so glad I’ve been of help for him, and I will certainly remember him too, I hope everything goes well for him in his home. it’s been very nice talking to him, discover I can do conversations without the paranoia, it truly is amazing to me

I started sketching again, for practice, for fun. I’ve been drawing cubes, lines to figure out line weight, a chair, a drill bit, a house of cards, and I’m having fun doing it. I feel it is meditative. And I’ve been writing so much, this post is going to be hard to transcribe. I’m gonna dictate it or something. They gave me the pen with like 3 cm of ink and now it’s down to less than 1 cm.

For breakfast, I’ve been having either cereal or pancakes, for lunch I have either a quesadilla or pizza, and a light pasta for dinner, those are like the most edible.

So, being hospitalized definitely helped, I was at risk of harming myself, I was severely depressed, unable to do simple things. I’m very excited to go back.

[End of transcription]