Hospital

I stayed in a mental hospital for 6 weeks, and it definitely was one of the better longer stretches of time of my last 12 months or so. Ironically, the different kinds of therapy there weren’t even the major reason for why it was such a good experience for me, but rather two other things: That I was in a new environment and out of my apartment, and that I was around other people 24/7, in particular people that were going through similar problems as myself.

I guess it’s not that surprising that people going through really hard times in general are more accepting of the issues of others as well. It felt freaking awesome that there was (almost) nothing I had to hide in front of them, as I have to with most other people, even friends and family. I really miss this kind of acceptance, and I feel like it – or rather a lack of it – is tied fundamentally to why I developed to have problems myself, and am still going through these problems today.

Every time I get to know new people I struggle with whether and how to tell them about it, that I have recurrent depression and social anxiety, that I have almost no circle of friends and everything else that is connected to that, most extremely suicidal tendencies themselves. Sadly, these things are stigmatized, and people start judging without really understanding, even for the minor issues. This is particularly problematic with dates, who either are overwhelmed if I were to tell them on first notice, or would feel deceived if I wait for too long. Funnily, those dates that did have actual potential all to some extent knew about my problems from the beginning through the way we got to know each other, so I never had to ask myself that question with them.

So now about 1 week after I was released from the hospital, my emotional state is back to where it was before, extreme depression, random outbursts of tears, self-doubt and self-hatred. But: I’ve been going to every single lecture at university since the semester started 2 weeks ago, and that makes me kind of proud, because I never thought I’d be able to go through with it. It’s still straining, especially sitting in lecture hall all by myself, but I am positive that I’ll continue with it, at least for a while, and that is despite my low emotional state. I guess what changed after the hospital is that I didn’t just want to go back to how it was before, even though it does feel like before.

I honestly don’t know where I’ll go from here; sometimes I still have the strong urge to jump off a building or in front of a tram, but I’ve had that for quite a while now and never actually done anything. In any case, I am glad I took the step and went to the hospital for that time. Even if not much changed, it feels like something new is starting now, and that gives me hope that things might still turn out well in the end, even if I wouldn’t bet on it.