Inpatient

In recent years, I have experienced a marked decline in my mental health. Perhaps more accurately, I came to realize that my mental health has never been good or normal. In any event, I began experiencing difficulties that were so profound as to make me “low functioning.” Consequently, as I languished in early middle age, my parents became increasingly alarmed and wondered how I might be helped.

Over a period of almost a year during which I experienced a marital separation, began living apart from my children, and failed to secure and maintain gainful employment (a recurrent problem), my parents secured the services of a “therapy consultant” (I still don’t know this person’s exact title) who advised on possible courses of treatment. In the time that followed, I underwent a psychological evaluation at a noted hospital and eventually entered inpatient treatment at another well-known hospital.

My impatient treatment lasted a year a half. I imagine it will be the primary subject of my writing here. But I will have much to say about what came before and after.

I have continued to struggle since my discharge from the inpatient facility, particularly in the areas of finances and employment. As one of my psychological evaluations described, I have struggled to maintain “a coherent sense of self and a stable sense of value.”

My purposes in writing about my mental-health journey include: *Creating a written record of my experience and the people I met along the way before my memory of these people and experiences fades *Establishing the discipline and refining the skill of writing about mental health so that I can find an audience for my writing in other venues and formats, including commentary, essay, and possibly memoir *Speaking to mental-health clinicians and patients, those who love them, or any other readers who might be interested in what I have to say *Deriving some income, finally, from my considered reflections on subjects I have never dared to write about before

While I was in inpatient, I frequently thought about starting a Substack newsletter or somesuch. I certainly had the time. God knows I could have used the discipline. But my motivations never seemed pure enough. At the time, my financial responsibilities had been lifted. I (with some resistance and one episode of rather stunning failure) generally tried to engage the treatment. Looking back, I wish I had found more productive and gainful ways to write about my experience while it was actually happening. But as they said in treatment, the past is never in the past. So I begin today.

My only commitment is to speak from my experience. While I may give more specific details about institutions, locations, dates, and experiences, I will not reveal my identity or the identities of any of the fellow patients I met along the way. I have some criticisms of many of them, of myself, of various institutions and staff, and of the mental-health system overall — but I do not wish to embarrass, harm, or compromise anyone who has sought mental-health treatment or who has devoted his or her career to helping us.

I do not know much about this writing platform. I just like that it is simple, anonymous, and lets people follow along or not based on their preferences.

Thank you for reading. I am glad you are here. I hope you find some insight. If you do, I invite you to share my writing with peers, colleagues, and loved ones.