Lessons From Mental Hospital
Hello lovelies! I hope you are feeling happy and content within yourself when you have stumbled upon this. I truly pray this doesn't come across as a cry for attention, pity or sympathy! I hope you may learn from what I have learned while I also hope this post helps to illuminate the unjust myths, defy the unfair stereotypes while also shut down the shame associated with mental illness. Perhaps writing this may help one soul out there and to me that would be worth all fears.
When I was seventeen I was admitted into St Patrick's adolescent unit in Dublin, I was an inpatient there for three months. I was then admitted to the eating disorder ward of St Patrick's hospital for adults, I was the youngest patient the hospital had ever had! I spent over four months there as an inpatient and a further three months travelling up and down as an outpatient, (click here to read my story). I could write essays upon essays on how drastically different psychiatric hospitals are to that of the stereotypes represented in horror movies, tv shows and social media but I hope you will trust me when I say that they really are not scary places; so many people, perhaps someone you know, will spend time away for help. Mental hospital saved my life! This is just a glimpse into my little experience over the past few years, an experience of which with every day on the twisty path to recovery is getting less painful and more beautiful! Everyone's story is different but also all too similar. This is what mental hospital has taught me.
When I was seventeen I was admitted into St Patrick's adolescent unit in Dublin, I was an inpatient there for three months. I was then admitted to the eating disorder ward of St Patrick's hospital for adults, I was the youngest patient the hospital had ever had! I spent over four months there as an inpatient and a further three months travelling up and down as an outpatient, (click here to read my story). I could write essays upon essays on how drastically different psychiatric hospitals are to that of the stereotypes represented in horror movies, tv shows and social media but I hope you will trust me when I say that they really are not scary places; so many people, perhaps someone you know, will spend time away for help. Mental hospital saved my life! This is just a glimpse into my little experience over the past few years, an experience of which with every day on the twisty path to recovery is getting less painful and more beautiful! Everyone's story is different but also all too similar. This is what mental hospital has taught me.
'Don’t hide your hurt, beautiful soul. Grab a hold of it. Run it through the purifying flame of your heart and mold it into something beautiful. Allow the depths of your pain to expand the breadth of your compassion. Gather up your stumbling stones and build a bridge for someone else. Remember what it’s like to be lost in darkness so you can be someone else’s much needed light. Don’t deny your pain or bury it away. Let it rise to the surface. And then transform it into something that makes it worthwhile.'
Power
Mental hospital taught me the true meaning of power. While the process of any form of treatment is the slow regaining of your true power and not that of your addiction or illness, in the beginning of treatment I felt so incredibly powerless. Nothing strips you of your human dignity more than being told that you aren't allowed to walk or that you have to put more than a milligram of porridge on your spoon at a time. The pain and shame that came with having a nurse hold your hand as you cried over more blood tests and the humiliation and confusion that came with having a flashlight pointed at you every half hour to check you are sleeping, is both degrading and humbling. Such moments of intense helplessness and a screaming suppressed ego helped me to analyse my true definition of power and dignity. I felt like a puppet, my strings controlled by psychiatrists, nurses and doctors. On reflection I can see that it was exactly what had to, and in some aspects still needs to, occur in my life. I now believe that true power is being able to control ones thoughts, emotions and actions. I believed I lost every ounce of power when I first began treatment, however I can realise now that I lost my true power a long long time before that; the very moment mental illness infested my mind. In order to learn how to gain true power, I believe we must start from scratch. Like a weed, in order to cleanse the soil, sometimes you have to dig up the whole garden, including the beautiful flowers. I used to believe that power was going three days without food and running until you collapsed. However, my true self also valued that power was freedom, self expression and choice. Yet, just like the weed, in order to cleanse the soul, sometimes you have to strip away all of your power including your core beliefs in order to rebuild your true healthy self. I am still understanding that true power is perhaps being able to admit that you feel powerless within certain aspects of your life. True power is opening up about your suffering and reaching out for help. 'The ultimate human freedom; the power to choose, to respond, to change'.
Kindness Is Everything
Mental hospital taught me about the transformative healing powers of compassion and kindness. 'Kindness what a simple way to tell another struggling soul that there is love to be found in this world'. A specific memory of true kindness and love will forever and ever be with me. I had a secret hiding place where I would go to escape. One evening I felt so upset and I rang my mom crying. I was two hundred miles from home, tormented by my thoughts, lonely, hopeless and truly felt no longer able to continue to fight; all I wanted was for someone to take me away from all of the pain and fear. A stranger appeared like a guardian angel, she squeezed my hand and held a tissue to my eyes and then disappeared. I have tears in my eyes just thinking of this moment, it may sound like a small gesture but her kindness and compassion saved me that night. She was suffering too, she was a patient with all of her own issues, scars and battles yet in that moment she chose to remind me of our common humanity, our united suffering. I wish I could tell this woman how much her care meant to and still means to me. Thank you.
Pain Is Connection
Mental hospital taught me that there is no greater connector and soul bearer than pain. 'If I tell these private thoughts of mine, it is because I know they are not mine alone, and that practically everyone is trying to say the same things and that the writer is only a man who says out loud what other people think or whisper.' Sitting down for dinner with the six other patients on the eating disorder ward taught me how pain transcends all genders, ages, ethnicities and people. We all had different stories, different backgrounds, different lives yet one thing connected each and every one of us; we were each in turmoil, we all used food and our bodies as a way of escaping our inner pain and we were all fighting really really hard. I now believe that suffering supersedes all outward projections and inner beliefs. When I found myself being held by a lady 30 years older than me as I cried because the nurse had poured my milk just slightly above the required line, I finally felt understood and accepted. She understood the thoughts, the pain and the irrationality of the eating disordered voices; she had the exact same monster in her mind telling her the exact same things. We were so different yet so exactly the same. We would later spend the next five months being each other's daily cheerleaders as we came across challenges like a horrific St Patrick's day dessert that only we will ever understand and still giggle about to this day heheh...(long story including screaming at nurses and disgusting green (?!?) cream). I learned that pain strips back all outer facades and reveals the true vulnerable, scared yet sacred soul beneath. Whether you are rich or poor, black or white, young or old...we all have pain and we all endure suffering. How refreshing and reassuring to know that you are not alone.
Vulnerability Is Courage
Mental hospital taught me that you have to open your hands if you want to be held. We all just want to feel connection, acceptance and love but how can we let someone touch our heart if we have built up impermeable walls around it? Vulnerability is terrifying, allowing ourselves to be seen as our true messy and unique selves is scary. Even finding the willingness to say 'I love you' first without any guarantee of a return is terrifying, however, such vulnerability is the only key that unlocks the gate to pure love and heavenly happiness. 'What happens when we open our hearts? We get better.'
Mental Monsters
Mental hospital taught me that mental monsters are real. Perhaps the greatest crux of all mental illness' is the resolute belief in the sufferer that there is no illness at all, that we are all perfectly ok. I don't think I ever believed I would write this but...I escaped from a mental hospital heheh. It sounds like something you would see on an advert for a horror movie...it's true but not as dramatic as it sounds I promise! This incident helped me to somewhat understand and believe the seriousness of this illness. During my second admission I wasn't allowed to leave the ward without a wheelchair in the beginning. On my second night I felt so guilty, I needed to walk, I had to burn calories and so I ran for the hills. I bundled up in layers of jackets, covered my face and sneaked past the nursing station. I crept through the winding corridors and ran out the gates into the freezing February evening. I kept going and going until my rational mind decided to finally kick in and I realised just how much trouble I was going to get myself into as well as the risk I was putting my body at. This moment helped awaken me to the sheer power and threat of the monsters in our minds! The illness didn't care that my biggest values in life are kindness and honesty; it made me hide crusts up my sleeves, scrape custard under my nails and scream at poor dieticians who were only trying to help me. Mental hospital proved to teach me that mental monsters are not quirks or ways of being; they are infectious vicious weeds that will poison and contaminate each and every part of you, willing to do anything to survive and hold you under their thumb.
Simple Is Sweet
Mental hospital taught me how to truly love and appreciate the simple things in life. No gift, holiday or amount of money could measure up to the joy of waiting by the window and finally seeing your parents driving in the hospital gates on a Friday night or a message from a friend asking how you are doing or feeling the wind brushing through your hair after not being allowed to leave your ward for so long or snuggling up in bed reading your favourite book or watching the cherry trees coming into full bloom in Spring. I learned that these are the true jewels in life. There is beauty in simplicity. Today please try to appreciate the small treasures that surround you. 'The earth has music for those who listen'.
You Are Transforming
Mental hospital taught me that to suffer is to grow, to unfold, to bloom. 'Just when the caterpillar thought the world was over, it became a beautiful butterfly'. When you alter your perspective, suffering can be viewed as a beautiful transformation, a form of metamorphism. I learned more about myself as a human being during my time in hospital than I have ever at any time before. I learned that I can be strong, I can endure pain and I can survive a lot more than I ever thought; and so can you, it's our fearful minds that make us believe we can not! 'Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape.'
It's Up To You
Mental hospital taught me that nobody can save you from your pain, it's up to you. I learned this after being discharged from the adolescent ward; my favourite nurse held my hand as she said she was sorry for not being able to help me enough. She could see through the facades of fake happiness and knew I was falling hard and fast down the dark hole of relapse weeks before I had even left. Six months later when I met her on the corridors of the adult hospital she hugged me and kissed words upon my soul that were simultaneously earth shattering and liberating; 'You didn't choose to get this illness, but unfortunately and also fortunately Lauren, you are the only person who can choose to fight it and get better...it is all ultimately up to you'.
'Pain is a sudden hurt that can't be escaped. But then I have also learned that because of pain, I can feel the beauty, tenderness, and freedom of healing. Pain feels like a fast stab wound to the heart. But then healing feels like the wind against your face when you are spreading your wings and flying through the air! We may not have wings growing out of our backs, but healing is the closest thing that will give us that wind against our faces.'
If you are suffering from any pain, please reach out for help. You do not deserve this pain and your suffering should not be in silence. It's ok not to be ok but it is absolutely NOT ok to do nothing about it. As a species, us humans are not doing too ok and that is ok! If we were we wouldn't have overflowing psychiatric hospitals, countless therapy centres and numerous mental health campaigns. Your feelings are valid but that doesn't mean they are true and deserving of inflicting pain. If you or anyone you know is in pain, scared, suffering, lonely, sad, angry, addicted or hurting please please please do not suffer in silence. Reach out for help, talk to someone.
I hope this post may have helped open your mind and lift your heart. Please leave any suggestions or questions below or anonymously in the 'ASK' section of my blog. Click here to subscribe to my newsletter for updates on new blog posts. Thank you so much for reading!
lots of love & peace & happiness
Lauren x
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