2 years ago today my husband took me to the hospital and I woke up in a different building. With paramedics taking me off a stretcher.
Having strangers asking me crazy questions and taking pics. I was so confused to where I was and why I was there and where my husband was at. Then their telling me what groups I’ll be in, nurses, schedule, psychiatrist, and therapist would be.
Who my roommate was, when we could use the phones. I suffered not seeing my son for 12 days. I saw my husband every night. This is when I got diagnosed BiPolar/Anxiety/Depression. I could see my son if I wanted but my therapist suggested it be a bad idea on both our emotional ends. I was able to come home Christmas Day.