What is it like to be in the grips of suicidal despair? How are we treated by the places that are supposed to help? This post shares journal entries from a night of despair, and the next morning.
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A first admission to a psychiatric ward is a startling experience. I am not sure that anyone ever expects to end up in the ‘looney bin’. Certainly I didn’t. This is a place reserved for other people, for properly crazy people.
…As it turned out, most of my fellow patients were far removed from stereotypical nutters themselves. We crazy folks have many experiences and talents, but none of them sufficient to keep us out of the ward. I was to meet mathematicians, artists, musicians, an admiral, and several versions of Jesus.
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Asking someone to disclose trauma can be really hard. It’s even harder to be the person disclosing. This post explores challenges and ideas to help all of us speak more easily about the things that most need to be said, and heard.
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This is my first blog post, and I think it’s my most important one. It explains why I started writing about trauma, madness and recovery, and why I continue to do so.
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