I know, the title of the book is “One flew OVER…” but, I didn’t. I flew into the cuckoo’s nest.
Flew into a brick wall, as well, or that’s what it felt like.
I’ve just returned from a few days in what I refer to as the nut-hut, because I had a major depressive episode on Sunday night. Looking at Lynn’s face and the expression in her eyes, as she was watching me, convinced me that the best thing to do was to remove myself to a safe place, but one where my own loved ones didn’t have to take on the responsibility of keeping me from hurting myself.
Not the easiest thing to do, because despite all of my knowledge and intellectual understanding, there’s still the underlying resistance to needing help for a mental illness. I can tell myself over and over that it’s just another part of the body that gets sick sometimes; and most of the time, I even believe it. But it’s still not the greatest feeling to know that your brain isn’t working right, and needs to have something just in order to do what normal people do without thinking about it.
So, a mixed week around here. Bad, in that it’s never fun when the black thing rears up, and this was a nasty vicious attack; but good, too, because I was able to ask for the help I needed, when I needed it.
I also realized, over the days, how much I love and value the friends I’ve been making lately. Many of them are online but I find that a pretty neat thing all by itself- it’s easy to talk here, and easy to share thoughts that would be much slower in coming, if there were more of the social conventions to be followed first.
I was struck again, by how loving my family is; Lynn was there, twice a day, for the full hour allowed, just to talk, to bring coffee that isn’t slop, and clean undies- and whatever else was needed, just to hear her tell me that she wasn’t going to let me come between us, was so fundamentally needed I can’t express it all.
I have so many things that I want to write about, observations that struck me, while I was there, but can’t yet articulate; so, if you read here regularly, you’ll have to put up with that for a while, I suspect.