I had aspirations to write and post weekly on this blog of mine but as it shows I have been M.I.A for over a month. The truth is I have a mental disorder very commonly known to everyone as depression. Add anxiety to the mixture and then you have the full diagnosis of me, Stephanie Marie Mills.
When I started my venture upon this blog, I also started an adventure within myself. I wanted to be better as my first post proclaimed but it was “unforeseen circumstances” that led me down a deep and dark path. I don’t know if anyone actually cares enough to read on but here I am putting myself out there anyway.
Those unforeseen circumstances were night terrors or nightmares that I would have while I was sleeping. Whether it’d be during the day when I would have a quick nap or when I would finally reach my R.E.M for the night, they would happen every, time, I, fell, asleep. This lasted for almost two weeks and no sleep makes anyone go something something. And that’s how I ended up in the P.E.C otherwise known as the Psychiatric Emergency Centre. Now I am sure you understand the post title.
After that I spent 2 weeks in a Mental Health Ward, where there was a roll taken every 10-15minutes so that the nurses knew exactly where you were & what you were doing. It was difficult and overwhelming at first. A lot of people visited me and cried. It would be surreal every time I would realise where I was, especially if I was having fun at any stage. I met a lot of people there as well, young and old. All with simular struggles and battles so it wasn’t hard to share how you were feeling. This became an amazing breakthrough for me as in my family, & I’m sure for most, it is normal to keep them bottled up. So here I am spilling my guts to anyone that asks me how I’ve been & to them I actually reply “Rather shit actually, I only have just been discharged from a Mental Health Ward recently. How about you??” Though this might seem a bit too much, the wall has been broken and I cannot restrain myself.
I have even gone to the lengths of confronting my parents about everything and it was been unbelievably refreshing. The more I write this post the more I sound like a born again ‘insert religion here’ but I don’t know. It’s now just so different. My life is still in crisis mode at the moment but rebuilding blocks right now feels really exciting. Especially when I realise that I can choose who I want to be and where I want to go. Who I can love and how I want to love them. As a generation of the now, we no longer have to hide our passion. We can paste it all over the internet or if you’re a more of a rebel, wherever the hell you want. We have the upper hand so that the generation after us feels nothing but love. [I think this coincides with my first post hehe]
But when I said I sometimes had fun in hospital, I actually mean it. I got to venture into the nooks of my mind that I have always been too afraid to share. I began to draw and paint, I also started to learn how to play the Ukulele and I even dabble in a bit of singing. Along with meeting amazing people who could make you laugh even though we were all in a place that was for the “unhappy”.
I wrote this letter below for a few of my friends that were still in hospital while I was discharged but I thought I’d now share it with everyone. At the time... I felt quite profound.
I’m just writing to say that amongst all of this ‘madness’ that I am very grateful to have met you & I thank you for being a part of my gloomy adventure & listening to my not so happy stories (& also listening to me whine about how shit everything is). Having the common ground of having hard lives was definitely something that helped me open up about my troubles & that is why I’m thanking you. Though there will be a long time ahead of us before we are considerably “happy”. I am extending my arm & giving you these daisies saying, here, here is simple & happy. & I mean it when I say that.
(Watch the movie “Beginners”)
(Watch the movie “Beginners”)
In our ward there was a garden bed which grew an abundance of greenery and amongst those there were daises. I had pressed them with the millions of magazines my kind loved ones sent me and I had put them in the letters.
The title of this post is a quote from “The Crucible”, a play that I read for my English class in high school. Though I felt this way when I something something, it is now a bridge I have burnt forever.