Routine days in and out- Woken at 6am. Shower, Meds, Vitals (Every 6 hours). Breakfast at 7am. Group meeting at 8. Group meeting at 10. Lunch at noon. Chores from 1-2, for those willing. Group at 3. Dinner at 5, Chores at 6, group at 7, 8, Meds at 9, TV until 11 and lights out.
Minimal interaction with psychiatrists and doctors. The first time (Nov '13) the hospital had med students there often that would talk to us and that was pretty helpful for me. They were working hard for their education, and cared about the people they were working with. The doctors didn't give two shits. The nurses were more helpful. My doctor released me after 8 days diagnosed with depression, a script for prozac and something to sleep. Referred to a psychiatrist in my local area for follow up. He immediately acknowledged that I was mis-diagnosed and after a few visits with him I was diagnosed bipolar.
I slowly strayed from my doctor and continued taking my meds, but slowly fell back into alcoholism. My life falling apart around me, I began drinking more than ever, morning to night, at work, everywhere. One day at work I just broke down. I told my bosses everything, and checked into rehab September 3rd. Made it 3 months without drinking, and pretended that alcohol was my only problem and didn't need medication for anything else. Wrong. Exactly 5 weeks ago, I spaced out and bought a bottle of whiskey. Drank all 750ml, fell back into mania, and shoved a knife into my wrist.
I didn't want to die. I just wanted to feel something else. I don't remember anything after that until waking up in the ER the next day. They sent me off to another hospital again. This time I wanted to get better- I quickly became involved in activities in the dorm, chores, caring for others who were far worse off than I. My second day there this girl that had been there about a week got attached to me quickly. My experience with rehab and recovery told me- stay away! I didn't listen. We spent a lot of time talking about ourselves with each other, and quickly became very comfortable with each other. Connecting with her really motivated me to get my life back on track. I wish I could say the doctors and nurses did the same, but this time around, the people that were stuck in that hospital the same as I was really helped me, and I hope I helped them too. She was gone the next day, I kept my head up and made it out in 6 days. The doctor again, prescribed me the wrong meds and they messed me up pretty badly this time. Side effects didn't kick in until after taking them for 10 days. I'm back to the right doctors and I'm not going to fuck it up this time.