Monday, January 18, 2021

Another trigger resulting in hospitalization

     Two years after having my son, six years after witnessing the suicide, while living in Hawaii away

from all family and friends I joined the Catholic church.  completed the RCIA classes in 2014 into

2015.  Ultimately I was baptized and received first communion Easter 2015.  When I was baptized and

the time thereafter I was the most happy and at peace as I had ever been.  I loved life.

    After roughly four months of being Catholic my very good friend's husband completed suicide.  This

was another huge trigger for me.  Either the night I received the news or the night after I went to a 

party.  At the party I drank too much.  I didn't sleep that night.  Which led to me not sleeping for the

next twelve nights.  

    Over the course of those twelve nights many things happened to me.  I would pace back and forth in

my house.  I thought the deceased could use me to speak to others.  Then I thought I could bring people

back from the dead.  At one point I thought I was Mary.  The climax was when I had a vision in my

mind where if I walked into one room in my house it was God, a different room was death.  I chose

God.  Then I thought I was God.  When I laid down and nothing had changed, I knew something was

wrong.  I called my friend and told her what I had been experiencing.  She had my husband call 911.

    I was admitted to the psych ward that night.  The doctor thought I just needed some sleep.  However,

when she returned from her time off three days later, found that I was still there, and I wasn't any better

she knew something else was wrong.  So she dug deeper.  Eventually I was diagnosed with bipolar one

disorder on top of my previous PTSD diagnosis.  During that time I thought I was God.  I recall getting

a roll in my lunch.  I thought I needed to break it apart and give it to the other people sitting at the table

with me as if they were my disciples.  I remember constantly asking if I was crazy.  The lady (I think

she was a psychiatrist) would always tell me, "no, you're not crazy."  However, I wish she would've

told me no, you're not crazy you have bipolar disorder and you're having delusions.  I doubt I would've

believed her, but it would've at least planted the seed.

    I recall having an angry outburst in the ward.  I really wanted a pencil.  They wouldn't give it to me, 

I'm guessing because they considered it a weapon.  I tried to force myself behind the counter to get 

one.  Someone kind of pushed me back a little bit and said you don't want to do this.  I'm sure they 

would've put me in some kind of hold.  I just clenched my fist, hit my other hand as hard as I could, 

and said, "look I have control of myself, I just want the pencil."  Low and behold I'm pretty sure they 

ended up giving me a pencil.

    After the pencil incident I called my former RCIA leader from when I joined the Catholic church.  I 

was extremely upset.  She prayed the rosary with me over the phone.  Even though I was crying the 

whole time I felt so much better when we were done.  I went back to my room and thought to myself I 

had to do that to bring more people to me, to God, to Jesus.  Whether it converted anybody or not I 

don't know, but it certainly got everyone's attention.

    The psych ward was actually a comfortable, happy place for the most part.  It didn't feel like I was

there twelve nights.  While in the ward I attended a small group from which I learned how to integrate

back into society.  Whenever I started talking like I was more important than I was, the leader would 

bring me back down by saying, "and that is over the top."  The group was very beneficial for me.  The

main thing I learned from the psych ward is that I needed to take care of myself first.  I ultimately got

discharged when I thought I was helping them more than they were helping me.

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