My post today on StreetPsychiatry!
I went to the mental hospital the first time in July, 2013. As I sat in a chair waiting to be taken to my room, I felt my world implode. Until that moment, I was “quietly crazy”. I knew something was not right, but I believed I hid it well. I’ve never been shy about talking about depression or anxiety, but this was different. I was twitching, stuttering, and I could no longer discern what was my brain “being noisy” (intrusive thoughts) and my own thoughts. I remember lying in my bed and thinking, “Everyone knows now…”
I had been told before that I “do too much, push myself too far, it’s not healthy.” My ex has said so many times, “I don’t know who I am coming home to after work.” All I truly understood was, “this is how I am!” I AM a perfectionist, I DO like being…
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