A little bit of honesty

I fear I may have been living a lie. Trying to do so much so soon after my first time in the ward. Guess what? I just got back out. Life came too much too fast and the plan in my head became a terrifying reality. Too many triggers I didn't know I was going to have all seemed to happen all at once. And I had to go back. Things I thought I was ready to handle, were actually so far out of my grasp. So here's an honest story for you all. Buckle up, grab a snack, and please be kind.

My first time going into the ward the valve to my emotions were glued shut. No matter how hard I tried to turn it to feel anything, the more numb I felt. As you've read in my first nine days I spent in hospital, I worked hard at that valve of my emotions. When I left we just got it turning, finally able to feel something. Here's the thing though, that valve turned so fucking fast I didn't know how to control what was coming out. I thought I was fine my first days home, but it was nothing but pain. Being thrown back into real life after you just got used to how things function in hospital. I was almost set up to fail, or at least that's how it felt. I thought I got out I need to get to work to let people know what my experience was, there was work to do in my personal life and it all needed to happen now. For those who don't know I never completed high school. It's not something I would tell anyone, it was a great shame I carried with me everyday. I'm proud to say I am now a high school graduate and will be walking across that stage this summer at the age of 31. I only had two courses left and they give you a year to finish them. I did it in 72 hours. On top of that I also applied to go back to school for January of 2027. These are all amazing things no? They very much are, but I was so busy thinking I had something to prove I forgot along the way that I need to be Rachel first. Not to mention I was putting out extremely personal blog posts everyday. I forgot along the way that I needed to take the time to feel all my emotions. Only the things coming out of the valve of my emotions was so much trauma I shoved it down to the depths of my soul. I just got out, I've been working so much I can't let these emotions be my whole reality. I put the persona that I was doing well to all the people around me. I was drowning. Every morning I would wake up and just be in pain, re living every horrible thing I've ever done, or had done to me. It was a fucked up version of groundhog day. I was in pure agony.

The week leading up to me going back into hospital feels like a blur. I was sleeping most of my days away, I had very little interest in anything. We had seen a family friend, and I thought I was in the position to be able to help, to understand. And I truly wasn't. We love this friend dearly but I need to protect myself and to get to a place where I can help them. I was a mess, barley functioning. Just putting on another mask to the world. The second incident leading up to me going back in was while my kids were sick. We had to bring in my oldest, and I hold a lot of trauma from when he was younger. To protect his privacy I won't go into the details. But seeing him asleep on a stretcher broke something deep inside me. The ticking time bomb of emotions in my head was about ready to go. But I held on, I cried a lot but still I held on. The straw that broke the camels back was December 11th. For those who know me well enough know that this date is my baby girl in heavens birthday. Elise would have been 4. So my husband sent me on a drive for coffee, because that usually does the trick for me... not this time. On that drive something snapped in me, and I can pin point the exact moment I stopped feeling safe. The plan in my head came on full force and my mind was made up... I just couldn't do it anymore.

The moment I got home I broke down to my husband that I just don't want to be alive anymore. He helped me pack up a bag, we called a trusted friend, and back to the hospital I went. The second time going isn't any easier than the first. I couldn't stop the tears, the shame, everything. I wanted it all to fucking stop. Healing isn't linear and I'm learning there is so much work I need to do for myself. This is my time to be selfish, I need to get myself better. So this time around I'll be keeping all the things I wrote when back in hospital to myself. I loved sharing my truth with you all but at this point as I start my counseling journey, I want to start keeping more about myself private. Maybe one day I'll be able to share, but the thing's I've been learning about my past and just how I function on a day to day; I just need to keep it to myself.

So please keep reading when I post, I think what I have to share is important. I think it's important to talk about all these things. If you or someone you know needs help please reach out to your local crisis lines and local ER department. You matter, you deserve to be here, you are more than your mental health. Until next time, keep well and know you're never alone.