I was excited to come home today to share all the good things that happened today. But very unexpectedly, i got hit by a train. I’m trying to hold myself very tightly together to write about today despite feeling very unwell, because i don’t want to forget today for all its goodness.
I went back to the cardiac ward where i’ve been working. I didn’t know what the responses would be since i was away for 2 months, and i was afraid my colleagues would probe too much. But i was pleasantly surprised, because my colleagues were all very nice and welcoming. They were actually glad that i am coming back to work next Monday. I spoke to my immediate superior, who’s the ward’s nurse manager (colloquially known as Sister). I’ve been wanting to speak to her for quite awhile since she started asking after me. I’ve been feeling so bad that she’s been rostering me even though i cannot turn up for work. She discussed with me about my future prospects working in this ward, and that she and our assistant director were worried that i may not be able to handle the stress (which is what they felt was the cause of my hospitalisation). In the end, i gave them my reassurance that i would try my best to open up more so that i wouldn’t be so bottled up and stressed, and also that i would do everything i can in my capacity with my treatment team to make sure i stay functional. Also, as usual, i told her that i would do my utmost best, that i would never let anything be an excuse to be anything less. In the end, Sister told me that had i not fell ill, she would have already confirmed me as a real staff nurse. That she doesn’t want me to leave, not because there is a shortage of staff, but purely because i do my job well (something about being hardworking and being serious). Honestly, that made my day. That’s acceptance and approval, validation even. I was all smiles, and went about settling my work issues to prepare for me starting work beaming with joy.
I was good enough, apparently, and it is contrary to whatever that i’ve believed in in the past 2 months. So why then, did whatever happened, happen?
Then after that i saw my psychiatrist. I walked into the consultation room, all smiles, excited to tell him about my victories. So i sat down, and told him about how i’ve been feeling great without any anxiety attacks, that i’ve not done what i’m not supposed to do, that i succeeded with my version of ‘exposure therapy’ (read previous post), and that i’ve been sleeping well. He was so delighted to hear how good i’ve been doing, that he said he would ‘go buy lottery’, because this almost never happens. I was glad of course- i almost never experience this post-discharge too, and it felt like i was in control of things. I got his acceptance and approval, and it meant so much to me.
(See the trend of getting acceptance and approval?)
Following that, i visited someone. Let’s call him M. The visit was like the icing on the cake, and ending the day on such a note made today a beautiful day (although it already was one). We had heart to heart conversations, both him and me. It was just amazing to be sitting next to him, even if it was silent, feeling so secure. Without doubt, i went home with a smile on my face and steps so light, i was almost skipping.
I kept going on and on about today being a beautiful day. And it truly was. But it had to get spoilt by my family. Like a good day gone bad. It was so upsetting it shook me so hard. It got so bad, it would be so apt to eat the words i have told my psychiatrist. Everything changed, and i was not prepared for that.
Good things NEVER last.