I had lunch yesterday with several old friends to "celebrate" my departure from teaching and depression. <Mouths DROPPED> Who knew I hid my physical chronic pain and my unhealthy depression so well?
Few People Knew...
It was September 2012 and I had an injury to my foot and couldn't work because I was told to stay off my foot. By December 2012, I returned to work, saw that my medications were not working well and requested a new depression drug. I continued to suffer with my depression doing awful things for weeks.
My emotions were raw and I spent the Christmas season, alone, and at home crying in private. I finally got smart and went back to the pharmacy and got a refill of my old depression medicine. The blend made me feel better until I could see my doctor.
I was also suffering from bronchitis. I was in and out of one infection or another. I had to go to the ER for several breathing treatments. On my third trip to the ER, in answering the ER nurse's questions, I admitted I was depressed. I said I had a plan but had not acted on it.
I never saw her after that, she gave me some drug to take the edge off. I fell asleep and when I woke up, all of my belongings were gone and I had been placed in a locked holding area.
I asked what was going on and they said I was being held because I appeared like I was suicidal and I was going to be admitted to a mental hospital. "WHAT? I needed to get home and take care of my animals." I was in the hospital for five days. Then I had to group therapy for a month in April.
Was I tricked or was it a blessing?