I was told by my mom, brother, and step dad. I was going to Florida, and I was going to move back because of my depression. My brother Jon said he wasn’t going back to stay, and he was quiting Universal Studios. So my mom gave me like $300 dollars, I had some money in the back to. With my brother Jon, my other brother Chris, chris’s friend Grant, my friend, and me. Went to Fl., while on the way down there I got pulled over just after Cinncinati, in Kentucky. I got a ticket because I wasn’t paying attention to my speed, and the semi I was next to blocked my vision of the cop, and he was going faster than me. I got pulled over, because I had to many people in the car, and I had been going like 90 mph in a 45 mph zone. The cop was like you have 10 days to pay the ticket, and show up in court in that town. If not I would be in trouble.

So we get to Florida, I pack, rent a huge rental truck, I have no time to go to the office and talk to them, even go and cancel my bank account, or even a chance to find a new roommate because I wanted to stay. I had 4 days to pack everything, then put it into a moving truck. I got one evening were me, my brother, his co-worker, and my friend went to a gay club that was the best I had ever been in, I danced my heart out. Which isn’t me,

For some reason I have never told anyone about this, that I finally felt free, no burden, but I felt ashamed that I did. I also till this day, ashamed that I hardly went to see my grandma, like 12 days out of all the time she was hospitalized. I couldn’t, I was so devistated because she was in so much pain. I was told by my Aunts that I had to be strong, and not cry at all. But every time I saw her, while she was sound to sleep because of the pain pills, I would cry uncontrollably. I couldn’t handle going by myself, it was to stressful, to hard on me. My mom is the only one I have told, she said grandma would have understood. And she wouldn’t want me to hurt as bad as I was. But I felt like I let her die alone, without me. I should have been there, that it was selfish of me, to think about just myself. That if it had been me she would have never left my side.

So I came back to Mich., were I had told myself I would never come back to live. In a blink of an eye, I lost my grandma, my freedom, my new life, my best friend my brother, and my dream was shattered. I moved in with my mom into Flat Rock. I was miserable, all I did was stay there with my mom who also didn’t hardly go anywhere. My brother had majorly distanced himself from me, my friends all lived in Monroe, and my step dad was mean to me.

I went back into the hospital by May, but I was in Oakwood psych. in Taylor. The Psych. Dr. I had, would come in write he talked to me, then leave. But he never had actually talked to me, except 2 times. And when I did, he was very mean, and threatened me. That he will no matter if I take meds, take me to court, and started giving me meds that he thought would be better than what I asked him to give me. I wanted to be back on Lexapro. After me complain to the nursing staff, they finally found out I was telling the truth about him coming in and saying he was seeing me, but wasn’t. So he finally just decided I could be discharged, because I said I wanted to go to the day program they had. So for 2 weeks, every morning I got up, spent like till 3 pm at a day program, went to groups, ate lunch, and so on. The Dr. in the day program, put me on some new meds, plus kept me on the Lexapro. I was discharged from the day program because I was getting very bored with the same things everyday. So I started to see him in his office in Taylor. Then he put me on Abilify, which I had a very bad reaction to. My thoughts were going a million miles an hour, I couldn’t focus on anything. I couldn’t sit still, and wanted to pace the floors. So the Dr. put me on a med to counter act that med, but didn’t take me off of it. So I did, and didn’t go back to him.

By the end of July 05″, i was back in Pineview at Mercy Memorial Hospital Psych. unit. I got there, and wouldn’t come out of my room. I didn’t eat anything for 14 days, so they took me to court, so the doctor could put a tube in me, and force meds on me because I refused them. I had given up, I was done. I couldn’t continue to live in this world without my grandma. I had it in my mind, that if I take my life, that I would be with her, and in no more pain. I thought I saw her, and that she told me to do it. I started taking my meds, going to group, and Dr. Koloff had been taking over Dr. Surans patients while he had went on vacation. So he gave me a day pass, he said if everything goes well I don’t have to come back, just call them and tell the staff. But if I felt unsafe to come back. But I was on the outside, and was dead set on not going back, no matter what I felt.

I stop the meds, I went 3 days with no sleep. So on the 3rd night, not intending to kill myself. I just wanted to sleep, I was so tired. I took like 10 pills, along with alcohol. My mom found out, she called a ambulance, I didn’t fight the ambulance workers. I was so out of it. But I manage to walk to the ambulance. They took me to Mercy, and the ER strapped me down, even though I wasn’t and didn’t fight them. Then they stuck a tube in my nose, and in doing so I vomited all over myself like 3 times. And then finally they got it in, but my hands where tied down, and I couldn’t hold the tube, so I was like gagging, and I could hardly get any words out of my mouth, not sure why, it might have been the pills. I barely remember my mom and brother coming in, and talking to me. Then I guess this head guy of the Psych unit that I had never met, kept coming back asking me to decided either me get discharged from the ER, and go straight to mental health, or be sent to another hospital. But I was so out of it, I couldn’t decided. So they said that the Court order was still valid, and the took me back to Pineview involuntary. I got out of hand one night, got a shot, and strapped down again. Then one night, with barley any staff on, I just uncontrolably, started beating my hands against the wall, they called security. They dragged me into the seclusion, I was pacing the room in circles. They had a window that had a metal screen on it. I started beating it as hard as I could, with blood just running down my arms, with chunks of skin coming off my knuckles. Then the security comes back in, holds me, they bring in a bed, straps me down, give me a shot, and when I calmed down. The nurse came in and cleaned up my hands, and put bandages on them. I had no idea, or what I was doing. I just wasn’t myself at all, like it was a dream. I refused meds still, even with the old court order. Which they are supposed to force it on me, like give me shots. But the Dr.’s, nurses, and staff were out of options. They said they did all they could. They were taking me back to court, I had no idea what for. I went to it. They wanted to put 3 state hospitals on to the court order, I thought no there no sending me there. Which they had already made plans to without me knowing, and not even talking to my family. I felt like they had given up on me. I had one nurse taunt me about it. My grandma, always told me, she had been in a state hospital a lot, and it was a awful place, that she never wanted me to ever go there. The hospital had on the paper that they could have transfered me to U of M, Oakwood, and somehwere else. I begged the judge to have them not to put the state hospitals on there, that they could transfer me to one of the other hospitals.

So on Sept. 9th 05″, I was told by my fav. nurse Lynn who had worked at the same hospital, and her best friend ran the 1st floor. As she cried, and tried to get me to stop, she said they don’t keep you long anymore, you will be out in 3 weeks, that everything will be alright.

That turned out to be a lie. The place was my worst nightmare, I still right now wake up from nightmares of being locked up, and never getting out. They have social workers, that only talk to you when you are admitted. If you want to talk later on, they have no time, there busy, and don’t want to hear you. The 2 on my unit, ran some groups one was drug abuse, goals, then there was a group where you had to make a plan in case you go into as crisis’s, so that everyone knew what your signs where, and what to do then.

That was the only time you saw them. And in team meeting, where you talk to the Psych. Dr., the OT staff, the unit manager, the social worker, and one of the staff. They would ask you questions, then call you a liar, they never ever trusted you. They would tell you what you need to improve on, and if you had made it to another level. Like there was a no level, 3rd level, 2nd level, and 1st level. It was bull crap. They made everyone go on a diet even if you didn’t want to be. They would barley even feed you, one milk per meal, never any water, and always a small cup of OJ, or apple juice with meds (no water). When you ate and take meds you are required to sit in the day room for a hour before you can go back to your room. So you wouldn’t choke on your food, or meds. At all other hospitals they had groups all day, counselors to talk to if you need, and group therapy everyday. Not there, only your roomate you become friends with, and the staff (but you couldn’t trust them either.) Also in other hospitals the staff would do checks where they would go room to room, even tv room, to make sure you are ok, and that you are there. There they every hr. to 45 mins, you had to go to the day room, and say here. If you happen to fall asleep in bed, you were yelled at, and your previllages were token away because you didn’t hear the announcement, even when the speakers were broke.
Most of everyone, except maybe like 2 or 3 were not there for pleading insanity, or court ordered psych. evaluation before court.

You were treated like a criminal like the others. Whatever you say is always lies. The staff would treat you bad, call you names. Some of the older people, and handicap patients, were pulled by the arms, pushed, called names, and so on. When they had not done anything. You had the same groups, Mon. Wed. Fri., then 2 different ones on Tues, and Thurs. but they were the exact same every week, for 3 months straight. They got to before I was discharged, were the staff was ordered to no longer have fun like play games with the patients, and only sit, do paper work with the patients. So 2 times a day you had 1 hr. of group, with no fun, just sitting in a room doing stupid paperwork, discussing it, and a lot of time they would have to do the same thing again because they had run out of any other ideas.

It was liking walking on egg shells everyday, you never knew if the staff was in a bad mood, or one of the patients would become violent, or so on. When I got there, I couldn’t take no naps anymore, even though I was exhausted every day. I also could no longer sleep on my back, I had to sleep on my stomach, it was hard to go to sleep, stay asleep, and more. I was so afraid of that place, and they made sure you did.

Every 3 months, I had to go back in front of the judge. For a hearing, like what the state wanted to do, and the local mental health wanted to do. The 1st time I ever had to do it, a psychologist talked to me, if I paused any time, I was lying according to him. When I tried to tell him the stuff they are saying wasn’t the truth, he would say different. He was only there for the hospital, he talked with the Psych. and Social Worker. So when we went to court, he would get up there and say all this stuff that was lies. Then the social worker got up there, and said the 1st day I was there, she talked to me, and all I did was cry, and I was suicidal. The day I was admitted my social worker was on vacation, and the other social worker talked to me, not the one who was my actual social worker. They would also say, I hadn’t improved at all. That if I was let out, I would definitely kill myself, no if ands or buts. Which I had never once tried to hurt myself, I never once said I was going to, and didn’t have the intent to do it ever when I was in there. When I was brought there, 1st day I started meds, I corporated 100 %, listened to all the rules, never got into trouble, or anything. The only problem was, I didn’t want to come out of my room, when there was free time. I socialized with only my roommate, I didn’t want to meet anyone else. I put my grandma’s death away, because they said to me, that crying meant I was emotionally unstable, not making progress to them. They made me feel like crying was a weakness and you couldn’t express it ever. So in court, the social worker said that all I do is stay in my room, and cry about my grandma’s death. And that I wanted to go back to my moms house, and that in the past I was abused (even though I told them, when I was 18 yrs old I forgave my mom, and we became closer, and I never brought it up again. That I had handled it, and talked it out with a therapist.) But what she didn’t say was, the 2nd day I was there, that they had took me in a room with the rest of the staff, and told me, that I had no choice that I wasn’t going back to my moms, that they were sending me to a group home, no matter when I get better, because I am not to be trusted, and that I can’t take care of myself. I was like how can a state hospital decide where I was going after discharge, that it wasn’t there decesion. So the social worker got up front to the judge and told her, that they had decided that I was going to a group home, because I couldn’t take care of myslef, and I needed 24 hr supervision.

The Monroe County Mental Health, wanted diffrent they wanted me out, in a lot of groups at there office, they would get me in a program where everyday someone would bring my meds and have me take them in front of them, that a case worker would come every week and make sure everything was going good, that I should be let go back to my moms house, and put on a probational period of a year that the mental health would monitor me, and if I did anything I shouldn’t that I could be sent back to the hospital. But the Judge, listened to the State Psych. Hospital every time. I went in front of the Judge 3 times, and as always they said the exact same thing as before. That I made no improvement even though they never told them, that I was up for release once mental health and the hospital could agree on something. So I got the Michigan advocacy for hospital patients involved. So they lit a match under the hospital, and mental health to get me out ASAP, to work it out. And they also wanted me to go back to my moms. So after 5 months since they said I could be released, my 4th time to go to the court again, basicially the said they would get up there and say the same stuff they do everytime, and I would lose. To just give in to them, and go to a group home. So I did, and mental health came up with one, and I had finally got a release day. Also while I was in the hospital, I started to attend Sun. church service, praying a lot, and reading the bible I had everyday (even though I can’t understand stand it, its like romeo and juliet I couldn’t understand that either.)

So after spending 10 months in Walter Reuther State Psych. unit in Westland, Mi. I had my meeting, July 12th 06″, and I was discharged, after like 2 hrs, because some paper work was lost, and that the owner of the group home was supposed to come, and so on. I left to go to a group home all the way in Lenawee County, to Hudson, Mi. over 2 hrs from my family, and friends. I spent less than a month there, because the staff had told me, I didn’t need to be there. Because I could be trusted to take my meds, I took care of myself, and was responsible enough to not be there, compared to the rest of the people. So I asked, mental health if there was any rules that I had to follow that the state or court had ordered me to do. They said no, that I could leave the group home, and go where ever I wanted to go. So a friend of mine agreed to let me come and stay with him, till I found a apt. in Monroe. So for a month I slept on a pull out couch, at my friends. Then his landlord found out, and that I had to leave. By then my mom and step-dad were getting a divorce, and there was no way I was coming to live with them. That he lived in a homeless shelter before, and I could to. None of my friends, and none of my family would take me in. My Aunt Teresa who lives 25 mins away said its your moms responsibility to find you a place to live. That I was her kid, not hers. I always thought that I could depend on my family, and friends, when it came to the worst thing. But I was let down.

I had to go to the salvation army homeless shelter, I was in a room with 5 other woman. I had to sleep on the top bunk, which for a big woman, with a bad knee is very hard to climb up a bunk bed. I did it anyways, at that time the guy who ran the homeless shelter was so nice, he asked me if I was ok because he knew about my depression and mental health. He was helping me apply to apts, and giving me his reference. After 2 months my friend who I had stayed with for a month calls me, said his roommate moved out, and they need someone to move in, pay rent, and some utilities. So I moved in with Kevin, and his girlfriend Carrie, at the end of Oct. 06″. I am still living here.

My mom said when her divorce was finalized, which was July 18th 07″ (which she had no idea it was going to be, that day), that she and I would go look at manufactured homes, and apts. Which we did on Wed. and we are applying to Country Meadows in Flat Rock, right off of Will Carleton less then 3 mins. from were she lives right now, in a house. We found a 3 bedroom home, with 2 bathrooms, very good size rooms, nice kitchen, big living room, central air, and more. It is $699.00 a month, which we both get social security disability, I can get rid of my storage unit, because all my furniture that was mine and my grandma’s is in there. So I will have extra money. And I will have a car again to drive places, because when I was in the State Psych unit, after he decided to divorce my mom, that the car that was mine (but he had got the loan for me, which never was late, and because it was his loan and my name wasn’t on it) he was going to sell it. So without my permission, they sold my only car, the car my grandma left me in her will. To my brother Jon, because he was working as a assistant manager at Beaner’s coffee shop, and was going to college, and he needed transportation. Not me. So I lost my only car. So I take the bus everywhere I need to go.

So in the next month, I should be moving. Which i am so happy, I will finally feel like I have a home again. They also told us, after a year of paying rent, we will have a option to by the home, and half of what we paid for in that year will go down as the down payment. It will be nice for me and my mom to move in together, because we need each other. So I don’t feel so lonely, and she doesn’t either.

Since I have been out of the hospital for over a yr. now. I have never stopped me meds. I have only missed 1 psych. Dr. appt., and 1 therapist appt. because I went out of town the last minute to a huge concert with my friends to Columbus. I thought that would be a few days on vacation, having fun, going to a new place, and spending time with some friends. Which my therapist said was a good thing that I did.

I did have to go back in the hospital at the end of June. 23rd -July 2nd 07″. Because I had for over a month telling my family, friends, my psych., and therapist that my meds were not working anymore. Then what made it worse was in May I tore my meniscus in my knee. Well the Dr. had put me on a pain med, and a inflammation pill for me knee. But he didn’t make sure, that it wouldn’t counter act with my psych. meds. So for about over a week, I actually felt what it felt like to be Bi-polar and manic. I felt invicible, couldn’t sleep, busy walked and walk everywhere, my thoughts I couldn’t get them to stop, my legs swelled for the 1st time ever, I was so exhausted but couldn’t sleep, I barely ate anything. Even though I was taking a big dose of sleeping pill, I still couldn’t sleep, so because the pharmacy gave me nothing to tell me like side effects, and what meds you shouldn’t take if you have this certain disorder, and on a med that could counter act. So I read about the meds, it can cause swelling of the legs and feet. That if you were taking Trazadone for sleep that, that medication will screw it up. And more. So I quit the meds the doctor gave me for my knee.

I felt better for 2 days, this was mid June. Then I started to not sleep again, barely eat anything, and so on. I told everyone that I was feeling like I was going to fall over a edge, I knew by the way I felt. But no one was listening, so finally my therapist says to me, that if I get worse to take myself to the hospital that was June 20th (she was very worried about me).

The next night, for no reason, after thinking of cutting myself I did it because I felt like there was no reason not to, I couldn’t come up with one. So I cut the word LUV, in my right upper thigh with a razor. I had asked my brother earlier that day if Friday he could take me to Mercy so I could see if I could be admitted to the Psych. ward, he asked why and I told him. So on friday, I tried to cheer myself up after my 1st appt. with the GYN Dr. Katts (which she saw my leg, but didn’t know what it was because I had covered it up. Because we had just like 10 mins before talked about my depression, and I said I was ok.) She though it was just a bruise, and I agreed because she knew my mom, and my brother. I didn’t want them to know. So I went over my brother’s girlfriends house to see my new nephew Joseph who was just 14 days old, to see if it would cheer me up enough that I wouldn’t need to go to the hospital. My brother calls me, asks if I am ready to go to the hospital. I say I’m not, I am over seeing our nephew. So he gets mad at me, tells me has plans. So I tell him to forget it, that I would find my own way. I felt bad because I just had told my brother the night before how bad I felt, and he just didn’t seem to care.

So I went home, packed, and called the local cab service. I spent $7 dollars for a mile and a half trip to the hospital. I got there like after 12:30 am the 23rd. I was put right back in the ER, the doctor saw me in less than 45 mins. And less than 3 and half hrs. I was upstairs on the Psych unit. Usually I spend 8 to 10 hrs, to be admitted up there. They gave me no meds that night, I didn’t sleep. So the next day a Psych. I knew but hadn’t seen in yrs. see’s me. He ups my Trazadone (sleeping med also called Dyzerel, it also used as a anti-depressant) from 100 mg to 150 mg. My anti depressant Paxil from 20 mg to 40 mg. Then a few days later he says he wants to add a mood stabilizer for Bi-Polar called Lamictal which I had never been on. So I was like ok. 2 days later, I felt happier, my mind was clearer. I also had started getting some sleep, and taking a little nap in the afternoon.

All the staff was majorly impressed with me, because the last time they had seen me was over 2 yrs ago, before they sent me to the state psych. unit. They were proud of me, because I stayed on my meds. That I voiced that I was having trouble, and even though no one was listening, and that I was so afraid to come back to Mercy because Pineview might send me back to the state. That I came for help, which I usually don’t do. I was a lot more open, participated in groups instead of being quite like I usually was. I also told the other patients what I had went through, and how I was a lot better. They said I was very positive, instead of negative, that I had a lot better self-esteem, that I didn’t give up (which in the past I did easily). Even staff the disliked me before, said they were proud of me. That I had made a huge progress in my life, that they had never ever seen in me. It made me feel good, to hear that from them. I spent like 10 days there, till I felt safe, and what I thought I needed.

So they I had a appt. with a new Psych. at Family Center (which my mom was also seeing). I went and saw Dr. Ravi, because of my mom he knew I had been in the state hospital, he agve me a bi-polar quiz, I answered all but one. So he said I was bi-polar, I tried to tell him, that the meds Dr. Dona gave me for my knee brought it on, that I had maybe one sign ever before those meds. He told me, that I was one 3 anti-depressants, and I didn’t need to be on that many, and I needed to be put on a bi-polar medication. I told him thats why they put me on Lamictal, that it was for bi-polar. He told me no it’s not, it’s a anti-depressant ( but the Dr. I saw in Pinview and on my paper work from the hospital said it was for bi-polar), he got mad at me. He said he was taking me completely off the Trazadone, which they had put me on because I had a lot of trouble sleeping. I told him about that, and he said it will get better. Then he said that the paxil he wanted to lower down to 20 mg, which the psych, unit just uped to 40 mg. He said he was going to take me completely off of it in time. Then he increased the Lamictal to 50 mg from 25 mg. He said to do it after 5 days. Then he told me, I had to be on a Bi-Polar med, I told him I wasn’t taking any that were also referred to as a anti-psychotic. So he said that gives me a choice between Lithium, and Depakote ( I told him I had been on both, and they had never helped. he said that probally I wasn’t on a high enough mg.) But he wouldn’t listen to me, he kept mentioning the state hospital like if I don’t take one of those meds he would make sure I would go back there. So I picked one. I wrote in my blog online about all that he said, a girl replyed back to me, her Aunt works at Glaxco that makes Lamictal, and she was also on it. And that the Dr. didn’t know what he was talking about, that it was for bi-polar. That he should have never tried to change all my meds that I had just had changed less than a week before. That I know my own body, and she be able to tell him. And he should have listened to me.

So I decided, I wasn’t going back to him, and I called the family center, and asked to be switched because I felt threatened by the Dr., and more. I stopped my Trazadone for 2 days after he had told me to, I didn’t sleep any so, I put myself back on it. I didn’t start the Depakote, I didn’t lower my Paxil. But I did after 5 days up my Lamictal to 50 mg. I have a new appt. with a psych. Dr. this week.