Friday, August 11, 2017

Consent to Treatment....



It has been an interesting couple of days. I started the day program on Thursday this week - 2 days ago. I was nervous as hell. Not knowing what to expect and the unknown. The program is at Regions Hospital in downtown St. Paul. It is about 30 minutes from my house. They have a wonderful mental health facility there. I parked my car and sat there for a few minutes gathering my thoughts and getting the courage to go and reminding myself that I needed this and this is what was best for me. I worked my way through the maze at the hospital and as I am walking down a hall I look up and see a sign on the building in front of me that says Welcome to Mental Health Services. *gulp* shit just got real. The program is on floor 2. The rest of the floors (3-8) are inpatient rooms. I can already feel the stigma as I stood there with others walking around. I felt like people were judging me but I was ok with that. I sat down for a few minutes and texted a few people in my support system. Then it was time.... I made my way up to floor 2. I walk around the corner and and greeted by a sign that says DayBridge as I see 4 people sitting around talking - no one acknowledges me. I walk into the office.....

I am greeted by the receptionist. She is very friendly and welcoming. She gives me a lunch voucher and a form to fill out which will be needed every morning. I take the form and go fill it out. It is not like the typical PHQ-9 - it is a little more in detail. How was the night before? What did you do? What are your Anxiety and Depression levels today etc. I sit in the hall on a cushioned bench. The halls are painted with neutral colors with peaceful paintings on the wall. There is a distinct smell but I can't put my finger on what it is. More people start showing up. No of them even acknowledging my existence. One guy in his late 40's who is very shaggy with unkempt hair and beard that looks like it last saw a trimmer in the Obama administration says in a very stuttered voice "well... it will be nice to have another male perspective." I laughed and agreed that it appeared to be a lot of females in the program. He looked at me for a few more seconds with a broken smile - this felt like an eternity. The clock hits 9am and the door to group session opens. We all make our way to our respective rooms. I should clarify that there are 2 groups (Green and Purple) there are about 8 people in each group. I am in the purple group. I walk into the group room and there is two very large tables together - feels very similar to any conference room in any business building but this is different... it is dimly lit and there is that fucking smell again! I grab a chair and watch as  people fill in. It is a mixed bag of people. Mostly females. Some with visible scars on their arms from self harm, some with visible emotional scars as they just look down as they walk in. It appears that mental illness spans across all races and ethnic backgrounds. There is an Asian, Native American, Indian and African American.   Their age ranges from around 20 - 50. A few minutes later a lady comes in. She is a Dr. A psychologist. She is the leader of the group. She greets everyone and acknowledges myself and another new guy. She welcomes us and gives us a very brief rundown of what ti expect in the session. This is group. Where everyone has a chance to talk about whatever is on their mind and how they are feeling. Most people talk about the night before and how their levels are at that morning. This is when I start to feel like I don't belong. The stories of these people are incredible - they truly need this help. The disheveled man that spoke to me earlier is in my group and he spoke for 5+ minutes on how the night before he accomplished getting 1/2 of his dishes done then had to take a break - but then thought of how nice it would be to have a clean sink when he got his water in the morning. This was applause worthy apparently. Holy shit I thought. I do NOT belong here. I made dinner for my family last night, did dishes, cleaned the house, got myself up, dressed, my kids up, fed, dressed, dropped off at day care , got gas etc and these people can't do a few dishes? What the fuck did I get myself into? Maybe I am not as fucked up as I thought.


As it comes my turn -  I am invited to just give a little info about myself. So I rattle off all the basics, name, status, what brought me there etc. I don't know how deep I should get on my first go-round. I keep it pretty basic. I have always been pretty social able and outgoing so this wasn't very difficult to do but I felt myself starting to choke up a little when I started talking about my feelings and depression. I don't know these people and I am about to tell them my feelings that I haven't even told my family? I guess this is the leap of faith I need to take. I open up a little but kept it pretty mundane... for now. Group lasts for an hour and then we take a 10 minute break then on to the next session. It is a pretty intense schedule, although not all the sessions are mentally intense. We have Occupational Therapy, then a session where we watched a video on how the brain works - it was really interesting to get into the biology of the brain and how it is wired and fires or misfires to create things like depression, PTSD etc. We then have lunch. We have a voucher for the cafeteria. The food is.... eh... it is hospital food. Nothing special. We all have lunch as a group. This is where I really feel the eyes are on us. We are walking from the Mental health building into the cafeteria. It is obvious by they way we look and dress that we don't work at the hospital and we aren't in gowns or anything so I am sure a lot of people at the hospital know where we are coming from. Lunch was pretty quiet. I talked to a lady who also works at the same place I do just in a different building. It was nice to make that connection as she has helped me orientate myself with the program. After lunch we had music therapy where we played hand drums. This was a lot of fun. I tried to reign in my desire to show off my skills. I ended up telling the group that I was a music major and a professional Drummer. The music therapist was cool and let me lead if I wanted to. I didn't want to take over and overshadow the purpose of the class but I felt in my element. It felt good to experience drumming in a different light - a therapeutic light. I mean it always has been some form of therapy for me but this was on a different level. A basic level. Playing a simple rhythm and feeling it internally. I really enjoyed that class. Then after that, we had pet therapy. This was by far the best. They bring in a therapy dog, Jackson, a 12 year old Golden Retriever and literally, for an hour, you just sit around, petting him, and being in his presence. It was the best way to end the day. I love dogs. I have 2 of my own so I totally get the idea of dogs providing a calming environment and the healing power. Me and Jackson hit it off. He was such a good boy and great to have around. We shared dog stories. It was great. Then after that it the day was over. It went by fast as I was constantly busy but my head was spinning. It was a lot. A lot of thinking, a lot of concentration, a lot of focus, a lot of stress and anxiety, a lot of uncomfortableness, a lot of meeting new people, a lot of new stuff. I was exhausted mentally and physically. Time to head home and prepare for day #2.




Song of the day - Fear Blue October
"The beauty is, I am learning how to face my beast. Starting now to find some peace and set myself free."












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