One year. 365 days. It was one year ago today when I voluntarily checked in to a psychiatric hospital. I ended up being admitted again and for 12 days last July, I lived in the hospital. I slept, ate, walked, received treatment and cried too many tears to count. It was terrifying and at the same time, I felt a safety I hadn’t felt during my illness. When you hit bottom, there really is no way but up. It was not possible for me to bury myself any deeper than I already was and with that, there was that small glimmer of hope.
It has been a difficult year (understatement). Even as I started to feel better over the fall, there was still so much work in my treatment. There was still ECT and there was still the hours in therapy to help me piece myself not just back together, but into a better version of myself. There have been ups and downs and my journey continues. I have been lucky to be on this journey with my loves (husband and daughter) and the rest of my family, my treatment providers, as well as amazing friends, who have become my best cheerleaders.
So, I am happy to mark this day and check it off. I am ready to continue moving forward with life, including the early wake up by a sneaky 5 year old, spilled milk, too much laundry, dirty dishes, play dates, spontaneous dance parties, date nights, GNO (girls night out) and the countless everyday happenings. What blessings. I am grateful and thankful for my incredibly precious life.