http://www.testingdepression.com A journey through severe depression, hospitalization, and medication. Sun, 14 Aug 2005 03:17:08 +0000 http://backend.userland.com/rss092 en When I got back to my room, I noticed that my bed had been lowered all the way down to its lowest position. I got into the bed and used the attached remote control to raise it back up to its highest position. I slid my legs under ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/13/57/ The other patients each had a turn to speak. I listened, but soon everything that they said became a blur, and I could no longer remember each person’s story. Time was soon running out for the group therapy session. I noticed that Sheila was glancing at her ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/13/group-therapy-continues/ Group therapy continued around the room. When it was my turn, I gave my name and said that I had no diagnosis as of yet. I also told the group that I had nothing to say, because I felt awful and just didn’t feel like talking. Sheila ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/12/my-turn-but-i-cant-think-of-what-to-say/ At exactly eight o’clock, the session began. A well-dressed woman introduced herself as Sheila and then sat down in a special chair at the front of the room. She said that she was a social worker and would be leading many of the morning and evening group therapy ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/12/group-therapy-begins/ Jack came by my room at five to eight, letting me know that group therapy was about to start. He told me to go to the main patient lounge. I thanked him. I thought about asking whether it was mandatory to attend, but I decided to try ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/11/awaiting-group-therapy/ I called Paula, a friend who knew about my condition but whom I didn’t know too well. I had no choice because I was terrified to admit to my closer friends that I had ended up in a psychiatric hospital, and because I thought that I had already worried ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/11/52/ Fortunately, I had a calling card. It was the kind that automatically billed all charges to a credit card. I had always used it irresponsibly, never keeping track of the charges or even finding out the actual rates. It was a gift from my mother, and all ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/10/my-calling-card/ After dinner, we had a short break before group therapy. Charlie went to the main patient lounge, and Louisa followed him without being asked. I retreated to my room to close my eyes and relax. Realizing theat I had no idea how long my stay at the ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/10/asking-about-the-phone/ We ate together, though my mind was lost in thought throughout the meal. It was for the better, I thought, since Louisa seemed intent on capturing Charlie’s complete attention. Charlie would ask me a question every now and then, and I would answer, and then the conversation would ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/09/louisa-gives-me-time-to-think/ Louisa jumped up. “Let’s go and get some food,” she said, as she took Charlie’s arm. Charlie shook her off his arm, and the three of us followed the rest of the patients. They had already begun to form a line leading to the table with all ... http://www.testingdepression.com/2005/08/09/heading-to-the-buffet-table/