We drove past Fairfax Hospital yesterday and I cried. I cried to because I want to be back in the hospital so badly. I do well when I’m in the hospital. I follow my meal plan, I work the program, I refocus my energy on what is important.
But being in the hospital is not a financial or logistical possibility right now. I have to keep working so I can keep my health insurance that doesn’t cover my mental health needs right now so that if I do have to be hospitalized next year I can be. Until I run out of personal days and sick days and lose my job, and with it my health insurance.
Basically I am working to get a benefit that I need but that I can’t use even once I have it, because using it would most likely mean losing my job and my access to the benefits I was working for.
This is a sad state of affairs. No wonder I’m having a hard time and am having difficulty managing my behaviors. Ultimatly, though, I do know that going to the hospital now is not the solution. I know I do well in the hospital. That is a given. What I need to get practise at is doing well at home, in the real world. I can’t do that locked on 2East.
Don’t get me wrong: it is reassuring to know that the hospital is there. Should I start to feel suicidal again I’ll admit myself voluntarily. For now I will keep plodding along taking it one day, one hour, one minute at a time. That is about all I can handle. Thinking about anything else is just too overwhelming.
