I am getting a divorce, sadly and unfortunately. My husband turned out to be an abusive narcissist. He is not the best man, and he is not who I thought he was. At first I thought he was the most incredible man i had ever met. He mirrored everything I had ever wanted in a man and partner. But, he has NPD, which is impossible to treat, and he has been on and off abusive towards me. I was in denial of the abuse for a very long time, but it finally all came to a head, and I couldn't take it anymore. He can be both very loving and most affectionate, but also very abusive, which is in fact, how abusers operate. I don't have the energy to write about him or our marriage in detail right now.
I am hurting, though. I am 50 and will have to be single again, which is certainly NOT my preference. I hope I can find happiness all on my own.
Minutes turned into hours as I sat among the chaos in the hospital ER patiently waiting for a bed to open up at any surrounding hospital. As the day turned to night, my friends finally left to go home, I tried to pass out from exhaustion from the anxiety but was afraid to really sleep. I felt like i was in a movie, I could see the action going on around me and all the people and hospital staff rushing around but I couldnt hear the sounds and commotions, like I was in a fog or a dream and wasnt really there. Being on suicidal watch I was plopped right outside the nurses station with a constant guard on duty watching me but luckily as the night went on, the ER quieted down and I was able to doze off for a bit. All I really remember after that was waking up at some point to a doctor asking me how i was feeling, he was different than the rest of the staff, he was calming, he sat down next to me and was eye level with me as opposed to all the nurses who stood over me with their clipboards asking question after question and then would disappear. He had a soothing voice and placed his hand on my arm explaining he was the doctor on duty, assured me I would be leaving soon and told me to call out to him if I needed anything.
I didnt arrive at the hospital until sometime after midnight after 8 hours of sitting in that ER. I had to go thru the ordeal of answering questions, being told the rules and handing over my stuff before I could settle into a bed. I was in zombie mode the following morning, venturing out of my room, scared to see what this locked ward consisted of, I walked aimlessly around like a deer in headlights, my stomach in knots, my head consumed with racing thoughts and dealt with being stared at by other patients because i was a newbie. I quickly retreated back to my room where I curled up on my bed spending the majority of the day with my eyes glued to the clock waiting anxiously for visiting hours, hoping to see a familiar face and feel not so alone and abandoned.
After the second day I quickly learned that the hospital workers walking around with the clipboards werent nurses but "babysitters" as the other patients called them. I was told to watch out for them, that they dictate when and how soon I get discharged. They watched your every move, they noted whether you slept all day, whether you came out of your room, whether you ate, and whether you participated in the ridiculous arts & crafts classes. I was told, if I stayed to myself that I wouldnt be going home anytime soon. I thought it was a good bit of info from the strangers who didnt seem to care if they stayed or went. I did my best to do what was expected even though I was out of my comfort zone. I spent most days just trying to follow the rules, going to the scheduled classes, and staring out the window praying to be dishcharged soon. I found myself often pacing in front of the phone stations where we were allowed short phone calls with the outside world. I tried to resist calling my friends every 10 minutes but being alone in this unfamiliar place with some scary individuals and not knowing my fate, I was beyond scared. I know they were going about their days with their regular routines, as I sat there feeling like time was standing still. Nights i would just lie in bed, my back to my roommate, just staring at the wall and my eyeglasses sitting on the radiator case. i would watch the light from hallway appear on the wall every 15 minutes when the orderly would open the bedroom door for suicide checks to make sure i was still there. they never checked to see if i was breathing, just that a body was in bed. i never really did sleep, i would just listen to the moans of the other patients and the movement in the hallway. my roommate slept all day and night, i dont think i ever saw her get out of bed during my time there. sometimes i wish i could go back, to just lying there letting life pass by on the outside world and not be apart of it.
Each day started the same with nurses entering your room to do vitals, give medicine and ask how you are feeling. Nothing really went on during my stay that was "helpful" to my recovery. I saw a doctor for 15 minutes during my 5 days there. The classes were a joke that were just in place to pass the time, I never discussed my feelings with anyone, no one really asked me why I felt like dying, or why I was sad. There was no one on one counseling or even anyone other than the patients to even talk to. They just pushed meds and sent you on your way. The ward consisted mostly of detoxing patients than mental health ones resulting in alot of outbursts and angered individuals. The staff didnt seem too enthused to really "care" for us. One evening a patient was playing music on a handheld radio and when the other patients started to enjoy the entertainment with dancing and singing, the radio was immediately taken away with no real reasoning.
Among it all, A patient took a liking to me, even though I really wanted to be left alone. It was nice at times that i had someone to roam the halls with but he definitely had his issues, as he was there for detox. One night, it was probably 2 or 3 am, I couldnt sleep so I walked the locked ward and before long, he joined me. The night shift workers discouraged us and told us to go back to bed, even though we were walking in silence. As we rounded the corner to our rooms, I said goodnight and turned in, he was the next door down and I thought he was turning in as well when suddenly there was a loud bang. I walked back out to the hall to find he was sleep walking, walked past his room and straight into the wall, needless to say he woke right up and became aggressive. The nurse at first comforted him, tried to guide him to his room, but soon other patients came out to the commotion and started commenting, which angered him further resulting in aggression towards the nurse. It was becoming a loud and huge ordeal so I thought I could help the situation by stepping in as I knew he would listen to me. I comforted him, grabbed his arm and whispered it was ok, and to go sleep it off, all the while guiding him to his room. He willingly went which angered the nurse and in turn snapped at me and told me to get to my room now. I was caught off guard and started to mumble that i was just helping but was cut off and scolded at to get to my room. I was dumbfounded and just laid in bed until it was acceptable to come out and hoped she was off shift in the morning, all the while, holding back tears because i just wanted to go home and leave that hell.
Some days it was truly scary there, the outbursts, the yelling, the fighting, I was expecting something different. All my envisions of being locked up, I imagined it would be horrible & scary, but didnt expected to be housed with detoxing patients and never expected the situations I saw and the actions that took place. As a fragile depressed individual who just wanted to end the pain, a more sympathetic/caring environment would have made a difference.
Its weird, even though I hated being locked up and feeling abandoned, it was a definite escape from my everyday problems. I experienced a different kind of stress, instead of stressing over not fitting in in my sad life, feeling alone, unwanted,and having no control over my feelings, I stressed about my parents knowing the truth and about what would happen to me at the hospital. sometimes i think its easier going back to that hell than living the one im in. It perhaps is the lesser of the two evils. It bothers me that those around me dislike me, whereas when I was locked up, my phone was taken away, no internet, no email, no facebook, no seeing anyone unless they chose to visit - not being connected to the real world was a nice change. Being in an environment where it was acceptable and understood that you were depressed was refreshing. I often feel ashamed with myself that I cant control it and seeing how others react to it, I get further mad at myself for not doing a better job to disguise it. It was a weight off my shoulders being able to walk around that hospital and not be criticized for being quiet.
The sad part of it all, days before that hospital stay, I truly felt my friends gave up on me, but I was wrong, so wrong, the depression made me blind to it. However, months after my release, my recovery wasnt going as they anticipated. I wasnt getting better fast enough and labeled as not helping myself and not trying. Needless to say, as time went on, they all distanced themselves from me. I sometimes think I was better off not going to the hospital and not telling them what was wrong.
Depression paralyzes you and so easily makes you feel unloved and unwanted when it really isnt true. Yet, oddly, if you are too weak to fight it, it ends up making it a reality for many.
I'm so depressed right now I can't really write at the caliber I like to. I feel like rambling randomly... Truth is I'm lonely, and I use to be able to handle it but I can't anymore. I wanna cry my eyes out, but what good does that do. I have no one to talk to I can't make friends online because I'm not witty or pretty or loud or rude enough to get anyones attention. I fade into the background of existence. I just want a friend, I wanna be loved by someone other than my dog and my mom. I'm not being selfish, I appreciate my mom and my dog but I want more I use to think I could handle not being with someone, being alone, having no friends I cant I just want someone to talk to I want a best friend I want a life I want purpose I'm so frustrated right now I cant even make a simple grocery list I wanna be pretty I wish I could just be pretty, I don't need money, looks get you everything in this society I hate people. I don't wanna be punished for not be a slut online or some show boating clown who tries too hard to get attention. I just wanna be me online I want to be considered worthy of friends I don't wanna be faulted for not being overly confident I just wanna talk to someone I just need somebody to come into my life but I dont know where to find them I know you cant lean on another person to feel better about yourself and your life But everyone struggling needs a support system of friends I want that I just wish someone was here to talk to me Understand me Want to talk to me I don't wanna have to impress people to get them talk to me I don't wanna go through some high school litmus test to see if I can become part of the clique I just wanna meet someone, or people Why do we have to form online cliques or groups irl that make ppl work to become accepted Friendship shouldn't be a hazing. I hate myself I'm lame I'm going to go lay down Forgive any typos this isn't how I typically write. I'm a writer and I know how to format a blog I just don't feel like it And I don't feel like proof reading this I'm just writing how I feel I need som eway to let it out I don't think this will help I'll keep trying though bye
I used to love the holidays. I enjoyed shopping and picking out the right presents for my friends and couldnt wait for them to open them. The decorating, the get togethers, the christmas cards that come in the mail and feeling the joy in the air. now, im fine with breezing thru the holidays. I try to be in the spirit and do my best faking it but its not the same. I decorate my house the day after thanksgiving and do the whole house, tree and outside lights, but who sees it? no one comes over. I guess its for me but its not the same. I was done shopping this past weekend, i have no one to shop for anymore...just the kids of my former friends and my parents/brother. not really exciting. no get togethers except my office party and the idea of going to that is giving me anxiety. I was really hoping they didnt do one this year. Its funny, the year i wanted it and really needed it, they didnt do it, and now i dread them. maybe some day this will all change back to a joyful event. at least my house looks cheery ...