Infinite Diversities

To sum it up…

I wrote more in hospital but it was very repetitive. So what happened was this: I saw the doctors again and they told me my depression was related to my autism (they got hold of my records). This was enough to send me into a flying rage and so I packed my things. I left them in my room. I walked around the town for a while and then realised I did not want to go back to hospital. I had no money or phone, just a bottle of water. So I walked to Perth. On the way, I asked to use the phone at a petrol station but they said no. I also knocked on the door at a doctor’s surgery. There was someone there, I could hear talking, but they didn’t answer the door.

I felt high and low at the same time, if that has any meaning. I had the energy to walk all that way, I don’t know how. I went to the hospital in Perth and asked to use their phone and they let me but they also contacted the hospital I was meant to be at and they said they would send a taxi. I felt completely fired up and refused (loudly). I must have been a real handful. I got to ring GA and told him I would meet him at the Busport in the city. He said no, to wait for him at the hospital. I couldn’t get out of the triage area as they have glass doors only activated on one side. But then someone activated the door from the other side and I got out. I heard a security guard ask if I should be stopped but I wasn’t. I felt really paranoid and thought everyone was playing a game, even GA.

I walked to the Busport. I thought it would be open but it was not as it was the middle of the night. So I found a place to sit and wait. I did not know my parents and GA were looking for me. And they found me. They were happy. I felt ashamed and sorry. I talked on the way home. A good analogy I thought of was that I felt like an unleaded car suddenly filled with diesel. All wrong inside.

I went home for the night and then stayed at Mum’s house for a few days for her support. I cried a lot in private. But I made an effort and got through those days and even Christmas.

It has now been a over a month since hospital and I do feel better. Support has been needed and has come from unexpected places. Someone named Jasmine, I will never forget what she did, her thoughtfulness and kindness.

I feel up and down but the peaks and troughs are shallower. I am scared of this happening again. I feel that if left untreated it will happen again and so I know I need to get help. Medical help included.

Filed by renaeden at January 21st, 2008 under Related to Mental Health