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Mental Health Update: I Finally Did It
5 years ago
So, eleven days ago now, I was discharged from a branch of the Cleveland Clinic for psychiatric care after spending six days under their care. With everything that’s been happening to me over the past…forever, I’d gotten suicidal enough that I was edging toward a plan.
On June 6th, my caseworker and I spoke for the first time. She was actually going to call an ambulance for me if I didn’t just go on my own. I got an Uber, got myself to the ER, told them the honest truth, and was taken to a room to wait and have tests (including the COVID-19 test, of course) run. Nearly eight hours later, I was on my way to my destination hospital.
It was not at all what I expected and I actually miss it there. Group therapy was shocking beneficial for me. I’m back on medication, which has helped a ton. My caseworker is helping to hammer out some kinks (my financial situation is a major trigger; unemployment is another, because a lot of my self-worth has hinged on having a job; food instability is another story entirely).
I’m now doing both group and one-on-one therapy via telehealth; the former three times a week and the latter just once.
I say all that to say this: If you ever feel that you need help, get it. Get it sooner, rather than later. Be honest with these people; you’re not gonna end up drugged out of your gourd in a padded room and strait jacket, I promise. They will do their best to help. You just have to do your best to help yourself as well. Don’t be afraid of the prospect of group therapy, and don’t be afraid to speak to the doctors and nurses.
And if you’re ever in a Cleveland Clinic hospital, order the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
On June 6th, my caseworker and I spoke for the first time. She was actually going to call an ambulance for me if I didn’t just go on my own. I got an Uber, got myself to the ER, told them the honest truth, and was taken to a room to wait and have tests (including the COVID-19 test, of course) run. Nearly eight hours later, I was on my way to my destination hospital.
It was not at all what I expected and I actually miss it there. Group therapy was shocking beneficial for me. I’m back on medication, which has helped a ton. My caseworker is helping to hammer out some kinks (my financial situation is a major trigger; unemployment is another, because a lot of my self-worth has hinged on having a job; food instability is another story entirely).
I’m now doing both group and one-on-one therapy via telehealth; the former three times a week and the latter just once.
I say all that to say this: If you ever feel that you need help, get it. Get it sooner, rather than later. Be honest with these people; you’re not gonna end up drugged out of your gourd in a padded room and strait jacket, I promise. They will do their best to help. You just have to do your best to help yourself as well. Don’t be afraid of the prospect of group therapy, and don’t be afraid to speak to the doctors and nurses.
And if you’re ever in a Cleveland Clinic hospital, order the meatloaf and mashed potatoes.
I thought I'd hate group therapy myself and, initially, I figured I'd just stay in our (two beds to a room; I did, indeed, have a roommate) room most of the time. As it turned out, it was like I'd fallen in with my people. I was actually disappointed when I had to leave, but being in an IOP is helping. A lot. I'm already thinking more clearly.
Keep on keepin' on, yeah? X3