Sometimes we all need help

Hey friends and who ever might come across this blog. My name is Rachel and I believe I have a story worth sharing. The start of this blog will be about the nine days I spent in a mental health ward of my towns local hospital. While some of the topics I talk about might be heavy, I feel they need to be shared so someone else out there knows they aren't alone. I hope some of you find solace in these words, and for others gives some insight to where I've been lately.

Here goes nothing, buckle up and join me in reliving my journey.

Day One:

For once I slept, what a strange feeling. The numbness is still at the forefront. The dark thoughts still behind my eyes. I don't want to be here, but I have to. I have to for my family, my children, and most of all myself. My children will have a healthy mother, my husband will get his loving wife back. I will be good enough for the life I have. I hate feeling so empty, that not being here seems to be my only way out. I've been hiding behind a mask for so long, but I can't keep gluing the cracks back together. It's finally broken and I have to face myself in the mirror. I don't like what I see. I think I've given so much of myself I don't have enough left to make a whole person. I'm broken, numb, feeling like a burden. Hospital is the best place for me because I'm away from it all. I'm nobody's problem here. Maybe I can let the guilt go here, the constant running list in my head of taking care of everyone but myself. But at the same time I feel guilty because my little humans need me, and my love. I miss them so much it hurts. I wish I could cry, but I've lost that ability. This is all my fault, they deserve so much better. Things would be better if I was gone. My mind still goes to the knife and how good it would feel on my wrists, instant relief. Death feels like the only way out. My husband deserves a wife who is loving, and not a mental basket case. Someone who can love him they way he deserves to be loved. He is such a light in my life, he makes me feel safe and loved. I wish I could let him in all the time. He is the love of my life, and saved me in every way he could. My first born saved me too. Having him made me realize I could love unconditionally, that it's just that easy to love. He was my brightest light on my darkest days of postpartum. I kept going because he needed a mom. Someone to show up for him, and love him no matter what. I wanted to be better so he would grow up with a mother he could be proud of. He's a part of me out in the world, and I wanted to be better for him. At the time I did get help, and for a while that was enough. Then came my daughter, my girl, my bestie. I struggled heavily with postpartum angry with her, and all that work I had done seemed to slip through my fingers but I just pushed it all away. And like every mother I just put my young kids first, and put another mask on so no one would know the sorrow I truly felt. I want to show her what a strong woman looks like. I want to be a great role model for her. Someone to show her what love looks like. Not only that but how to love. I want to show her what a healthy loving relationship looks like. That she should never have to change to be loved by anyone. She is my firecracker, my shining light, the most beautiful girl in the world. She is the best daughter anyone could ask for. Then we have my littlest human. My big potato baby, truly the happiest baby in the world. He was my dream postpartum experience. But again it was all another mask I put on to distract from the route of my problems. He makes me want to keep living, they all do. But I think I need to live for myself, and more importantly because I want to. I think I matter too. That's even weird for me to write about, because why would I matter? Everything would be better without me no? Life would make sense for everyone else right? If I wasn't here. I don't want to be here, but why? Why don't I want to be here. I wish I could put it into words. Would the grass be greener? Would the sky be clearer? Would food taste better? Would things for everyone else just be happier? What would a world without Rachel really look like? The kids would cry, this I know. My husbands world would be shattered. So many people would be hurting; what a peculiar thought to have. To think of everyone else's sadness instead of my own. Ah there is that guilt again. I would feel guilty for making their lives worse. What a thought. I don't think I know what it's like to choose myself anymore. As a wife and mother it's my job to put everyone else first. Their needs have to come before mine right? But at the end of the day I have nothing left to give, including myself. So maybe I can make space so both can be true. For me I feel guilty doing anything for myself before my children. I think that motherhood has really made me lose who I am. I wouldn't have a clue who I am anymore. It kind of feels cliche. A mother who lost herself in motherhood? How original, but alas it's true. I know that I am more than how I was raised. I know that I'm caring, giving, and loving. I know I love reading a writing. I know I love lending a shoulder to cry on for anyone who needs it, learning why people are the way they are. So can I really say I don't know who I am? Maybe I just don't know how to make who I am a reality. Does any of what I'm writing make any sense? I feel like I'm lost down a long dark hallway, and the more I run the longer and darker it gets. No end in sight. But in those strange moments when I can take a minute to stop and breathe, all the sudden I can see the end. In those moments everything is brighter. The issue is I can't stop myself from running, always running from one thing to the next. Always trying to get to the next big thing in my life instead of slowing down and enjoying the moment. Because I think "what if it gets taken away from me?" So I need these moments to happen now.

It's now 4:45pm and I've left my room again. It felt like the walls were closing in on me, the dread was too much to bear. I felt like I was drowning. There was nothing for me in that room, so I left to come to the rec room. My husband is coming to visit today, but that seems so far away. I have no idea what to even say to him, maybe I'll read him my journal. It all feels like too much. I'm just so numb. I had a visitor today, and I could tell this person just felt bad for me. Like I'm this sad puppy you'd find on the street. The conversation was light, I think I needed it. Though in all honesty it did not make me feel any better. I felt so uncomfortable. Like I was being judged. My rational brain knows this is a lie. That this person loves me, and they want me to get better. But the other side of my brain that is not thinking rationally thinks they only sees the worst in me, that they hope I never get out. So I'm worried when my husband comes to visit. What if he decides not to love me anymore? What if this time I'm too broken for him. What is walking away is easier? I haven't always been the nicest to him, or treated him with the love and respect he deserves. What if this time he's done with me. That he can no longer handle my mental health struggles. I don't think I would blame him. It would be so easy to find someone else. He deserves to be happy, and quiet frankly I'm a train wreck. He deserves someone who doesn't find themselves in a mental hospital, someone better. But what is better? Could I be better? He'll stay because he loves me, but is that enough? Is that what I deserve? I don't want anyone else, just him. He's everything I need.

Thank you to all those who stayed and read about the thoughts in my head my first day on the ward, tomorrow I'll post day two.

Until next time folks.

*If you or anyone you know is struggling please don't be afraid to reach out. It's okay not to be okay. Crisis lines are always available, and your local emergency depart is there to help.