I tried to start a nightly journal after I got released from the hospital. Here are the three entries that I have before I stopped:


Day 1

I was released from the hospital today. For the last time, I showered under the lukewarm spray. I gave my box of hygiene essentials back for the last time, giving up my borrowed scrubs for my own clothes. I said goodbye to the grieving mother who miscarried her child and tried to jump in front of a car, the middle aged woman who had everything she owns stolen and cuts like me, and the other people I left behind in the psych ward.

And so begins the journey.

During my stay, I was switched from Celexa to Wellbutrin and Remeron, so I had to pick up my new medications at Walmart before I went home. I used to work at that Walmart but I was fired after too many strikes against me, the final strike being the day I fell victim to a quick change con artist. I could work there again if I wished to; the nice lady manager let me know that. As my husband and I picked up some groceries while we waited for the prescriptions to be filled, I considered her offer. Maybe.

I currently work in a call center as a fraud representative for a bank. It’s a pretty easy job and I don’t mind it, but I’ve come to realize that I cannot handle a full-time work schedule while trying to finish my degree. Unfortunately, they are inflexible when it comes to schedules, so I pretty much only have one option: quit and find another job. And I know a temp-to-hire place in my area. But if that doesn’t work out, maybe I’ll try Walmart again.

Now that I’m home, it almost feels like my week-long stay never happened. It felt like years, and my home feels like a time capsule, something from long ago. I have a big decision to make in the next couple of days. We’ll see how all of this turns out.


Day 2

I spent pretty much the whole day worrying and/or crying. One of the bad days people have warned me about. Just another day in the life of someone with major depressive disorder.

I didn’t get out of bed until about noon, which was nice compared to a nurse waking me up at 7 AM every morning. Boo early mornings. After that, I took the dog out and went in once she had peed. I bumbled about on the computer for awhile, until my husband informed me the dog had pooped in the bathroom because I had left the bathroom door open. Note to self: don’t go inside until doggie does both, even if she takes forever.

I’ve spent a lot of time today worrying about my financial situation. My husband and I both spend all of our time at home. I technically have a job but I’m going to quit as soon as I have another job in place, which should be soon considering my husband and I both put in applications for a temp-to-hire agency. This seems like a good idea. I hope it is.

I’ve been irritable ever since I’ve been home, and my poor husband has to put up with me. We got in a mild argument over household chores (after I’d already snapped at him several times about other minute things). He took the dog out, and I sat on the couch and proceeded to break down.

We’ve worked things out now. We’re taking a teamwork philosophy to everything instead of being like “You do this; I do that.” We’ll do the dishes together, clean the house together, take care of the cat and dog just when we see that it needs done because whatever, it’s not that hard to scoop poop and fill up the bowls. And heaven only knows we both need to get out more.

I just hope I stop feeling the withdrawals of the old medicine and the side effects of the new soon… Emotions are exhausting.


Day 3

My chest hurts because of the depression. I feel so afraid. I want to go back to the psych ward to be honest. For awhile, things felt okay. I felt safe. I felt secure. Now I feel miserable, alone, and unlovable.


Nothing really changed beyond that point anyways though. The medicine change has left me vulnerable to my old feelings but now I'm out of practice. And now I'm married and I just feel like a burden. Sometimes I wonder…if we were still just dating, he might have left by now. And I could just be irritable by myself and not bother anyone. But by myself doesn't sound very fun either. I'm glad he's here, although I still feel bad that I'm not quite in control of myself.


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