Psych Ward : Part 2

I’ve made a very difficult decision today.  I am going to post my “journal” from my time in the psych ward last year when my ammonia levels where exuberantly high.  No one had ever seen them before today when I shared them with my boyfriend who agreed that I needed to post them.  Some are  phrases or snip its. Others are full thoughts.  I am publishing them so that if someone is struggling or has been down the same path can find something to relate to or something that will resonate with them.  I am publishing them completely unfiltered.  They are as follows:


June/July 2015:

“Its just like jail – stainless frigid toilets / in a room / single wide bed, white worn sheets, cream colored walls stained and marked from bad tempers / I eat for the first time all day/ 1 mg of Ativan / Turkey sandwich with Hellman’s mayo / Doctored the way I used to make it for Matt / staff is pleasant / trying to stay calm / Pranyama breathing in Shabasanah / some water / cameras are necessary but make me feel self consciousAnd freak me out / sky blue shirt and pants big enough for two of me/ brought Halestorm lyrics – I AM THE FIRE! ( and the chorus to “Amen”) / must survive somehow/ no plan scares me / I need black and white / No charcoal /  blood shot eyes / Haven’t slept all day and bad nights sleep/ THEY TOOK MY BOBBY PINS – SERIOUSLY! / I’m not crazy / Telling the truth gets you nowhere / People mistake my meaning / Need to eat my Oven Baked Lays before counselor who decides my fate comes in / How do I do yoga and/or meditate while being “monitored” / Dear fellow Lymies this is horrible – I hope you never end up where I am / just notice – plum all behind me / I’m so tired/ thank God they gave me paper to write on and a penice to write with after they took my pen / I put Carl here – is this payback? / Oh well he’s dead – stupid addict / Chair in the corner – grey back and seat on black poles with same grey rubber feet / Is that AC or a speaker with white noise? / Floors seem dirty/ Dart tan with streaks / This whole place feels like filth surrrounding me except for the blinding white light overhead / That son of a bitch keeps me awake / How can it be beneficial to leave someone in my condition alone with their thoughts /

I was a dispatcher for 13 years and in public safett for 16 years. Do they think if I was serious I would tell anyone? Do they think I don’t know a 1000 ways to kill yourself even in THIS room? / Come on! / I’m a smart girl / Yes I think about suicide and even dream of it but its not a viable option! I love my mom and grandma too much! / I might be a horrible non practicing Roman Catholic BUT I still believe for me suicide is a mortal sin – my one way ticket to HELL / I believe in planes of existence but that is one plane I do NOT want to be on / waste of time, resources and space / I can hear crazy outside the door and just down the hall / My back hurts so bad / NO RELIEF EVER / Thoughts are racing / Violation / No matter what boundaries I set and enforce, I keep getting violated / Its a pattern I  can’t breaks/ Going to try to sleep  / Hope the white light’s screaming I can learn to drown out…

I am NOT a pysch patient. I am a sick individual with Lyme, Bartonella and Babesia that is messing with my brain.  I just need a little help to get back on track. This is complete and total bullshit! I’m wasting a bed on someone who really needs it.  Mom is not going to work tomorrow to be available for me.  I told her if she hasn’t heard from me by noon tomorrow to call down and get me out.  I told her to bring Amber and bust me out of here. The longer I’m alone with my thoughts and without intervention or distraction, the worse it is going to get.  I love the movie “Girl Interrupted” but I am not Winona Ryder or an of the girls in that movie! I don’t want to be Jack Nickolson in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” (another one of my faves.) I don’t want to make friends with the crazies and them be smothered to death.

The rise and fall of Jessica L*****.  Look at how much I had accomplished and how far I’ve fallen. But I AM THE FIRE! I AM A PHOENIX! I’m going to rise from the ashes of this and burn brighter than ever before.  I am going to be the me I was destined to be.  This fight is NOT over.  I might now be able to see the light at the end of tunnel just yet and I need to help out of this pit that’s trying to devour me, but some day my story will change others.  I’m gonna fight for health “CARE” not just management.  I want someone to say “because of you I didn’t quit!” I want my life to mean something. So while the next room speaks ebonics, I am learning.  I am learning a lesson to add to my collection, one I will learn and grow from.  I am miserable and alone and still trying to distract myself by writing and dying for a cigarette and wanting to scream “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” I’m hanging in, surviving, fighting. Now if they would give me my night meds so I could sleep.

Nurse just came back finally.  I’m going upstairs and they will give me my meds.  Should be in the next 2 hours.  Two fucking hours!!!! I’m mentally, physically and emotionally exhausted and I still have another eval to go through before sleep and meds.  Of courseI have no idea how long two hours actually is because I have no watch, no clock, no way to tell time at all.  I can see how sane people lose it in psych wards and jails.  I feel like my basic human rights are being violated. Worse yet, for doing the right thing, admitting I need help and being truthful.  No wonder this country is falling apart.  We punish the good and reward the bad.

Crazy Carol and George should be here, not me.  But they just refuse to see their problems AND get to fuck up 2 innocent little girls.  This world is really fucked up!

It was 250 am when I finally made it to the unit.  Sarah was the charge nurse who took  care of getting me into my room and set up.  I knew I knew her – Fire Week ’01 with Jamie.  Her and her twin sister went (can tampons get lost in you? when do goldfish breathe?) Yup that’s them. I did get some meds (no mobic, metoprolol or Xrelto.)

The ward was quiet and cold.  When I got to my room I knew I had a roommate but didn’t see her (Cierra) till this morning. I slept terrible.  Between my night/normal meds, broken sleep, and just being here, I am so exhausted.

They woke us up at 6 am for more bloodwork. Went back to sleep.  Woken for breakfast.  Terrible.  Had a small turkey? patty for protien and tried to eat a cheese omelet (awful!) but couldn’t even finish 1/4 of it.  So I stuck with it and chocked down a banana, with sips of ginger ale. Breakfast gave me an idea of what I’m dealing with in here.  My roommate is the only one younger than I am – she’s 24, pregnant (6 weeks and considering and abortion) and has a 4 year old at home.  Sweet girl and sweet heart but lack of proper education and product of her surroundings.  Not judging, just stating.

I skipped group.  Anxiety is too high and I’m too tired.  Staff couldn’t find my clothes, even made me sift through the washer to check there.  Finally found.

I don’t like that they have men and women interacting together.  Another reason I skipped group.  It makes me uncomfortable.

This is like some great film about crazy except I’m in it and its caught up with the times.  I WANT TO GO HOME! This has not been helpful thus far and waste of time. Its putting more stress on me than I can handle.

Just got a note to call Mom.  Can’t do so until after group is over.  She has to get me out.  Not getting meds for pain even though I was seen by medical already this morning.  This is messing with my body and my head.  Waiting to see psych and therapist.  I’m so afraid of getting sick physically.

I was right – bad idea! ALWAYS go with your gut Jessica! ALWAYS!

Still tired.  Going to lay down before psych comes.  Supposed to be before 11.  I have no idea what time it is but guessing sometime around 10.


As you can tell, the ammonia levels were doing a number on my brain. I was discharged around noon the day after I was admitted. It was an extremely traumatic experience for me and it took me over a year to be ready to share with the world.  I hope my experience helps someone else.

This entry was posted in alone, Amen, ammonia, ammonia levels, Anxiety, Babesia, Babesiosis, begging for help, chronic illness, Coinfections, depression, desperate, desperate times, disappointed, Disheartened, emotional, emotions, ER, Exhausted, Exhaustion, faking, faking being ok, Fighter, fighting back, getting better, getting worse, Halestorm, healing, Hell, Help, helping yourself, I am the fire, I will get better!, I will win, illness, Its not your fault, let go and let god, Life is unfair, loneliness, Love, Lyme, lyme disease, lyme's disease, Lzzy Hale, lzzyhale, Medical, Meditation, Misery, Mycoplasma, pretending, psych ward, Real People, religion, sick, sick individual, Sleep Deprivation, spiritual, Spiritual, Spiritualty, spoon theory, spoons, staying sane, suicidal thoughts, Suicide, TBD, TBDs, Team Lymestorm, tickborne, tickborne diseases, ticks, Treatment, Uncategorized, What to expect, yoga. Bookmark the permalink.

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