What I Learned in the Psych Ward

When I went for the first follow up appointment with my therapist a week after being released from the psychiatric unit, she told me she was proud that I got help and that at our last visit, two months prior, she had wrestled with the idea of calling the police after I left and having them come to my house. I was suffering from suicidal ideations and I was 7 months pregnant.

During my first trimester, an overzealous nurse practitioner working in the women’s clinic discontinued my anti-depressants and chastised me into quitting cold turkey. I had had two children previously, but I didn’t start taking anti-depressants until my youngest was about 6 months old. I had taken them for 2 and ½ years before I got pregnant and the pregnancy was unplanned. I was in unchartered territory. Fearing for my baby’s well-being and terrified of the harm I could be causing, I didn’t give it a second thought. A sounder and more rational me would have done some research but heightened emotions and guilt will turn the best of us into fools.

A few months into cold turkey, I started having severe mood swings. This was far outside of the range of the usual pregnancy hormones. I could feel rage coursing through me. The feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness ran rampant. I imagined driving and being hit by a truck, the impact enough to kill me but spare my children. I didn’t want to…