Grippy Sock Vacation
If you don’t know what this title means, Urban Dictionary can help you out. Or I can just tell you that it’s TikTok’s phrase for a mental hospital stay. Alyssa, why would you make this your first ever post? Well, Friday, November 12, 2021 will mark one month since I took my first every grippy sock vacation at 27 years old. Some people who go through this would shut down and not tell anyone about their experience but the past year I have wanted to write and get all my thoughts out. It has been over nine years since I have written. So, if my writing sucks right now, it’s been a long time and I’m a college drop out, forgive me. I think I have avoided writing because I didn’t want to be vulnerable with myself and breakdown when I was just trying to stay afloat and learn how to adult. I used to use writing as an outlet when I was in middle school and high school. Anyone who knew me at that time will know what I was going through and why I needed that outlet. Those of you who did not know me then, we will get into that in another post.
So how does this work? How much do I expose right off the bat? I know when I am consuming media I like when someone is brutally honest in sharing their story. They are typically driven by the fact that it will help people not feel alone but feel connected. I’ll keep writing, but let me know what you want to know more about or topics for discussion.
The first thing I want you to know is that mental hospitals are nothing like you see in movies or the stereotypes that you hear. There was such a diverse group of people and age ranges during my stay. I was in the adult general population because I wasn’t that far off my rocker. Laugh with me, I need to make jokes. The youngest was 18 and the oldest was in their 50’s. Various life stories, occupations, religions. That diversity alone shows how mental health does not care who you are, we all struggle. A wonderful person I met in there was a social worker, if that doesn’t open your eyes I don’t know what will.
I made my intake appointment for Tuesday afternoon. I took the day to try and prepare and get my bag packed. They tell you to pack one incase they admit you. No one knows if they are keeping you until you spill your guts. The intake process took about 3 hours, and they give you your own individual room with a Roku TV. I laid on the uncomfortable couch and put on the first Spy Kids movie, hoping something nostalgic would be comforting. I answered a million questions and they brought me tacos for dinner. I wasn’t allowed to have my phone either, so I sat in anticipation not knowing what was going to happen. The unknown was the scariest part for me. I know a few people who have had mental hospital stays but it isn’t a topic that they necessarily want to talk to anyone about so I had no real knowledge going in. They finally admitted me around 7pm and took me to the unit. I was then asked a bunch of more questions by one of the unit nurses. One of the techs took my bag and went through it and gave me what I was allowed to have in a paper bag. After all was said and down I was lead down to my room. I sat on my twin size bed with paper thin blanket and sheets and just felt numb. I had no phone, didn't want to engage in anymore conversation than I already had all afternoon and I was just trying to process everything. I laid down and eventually went to sleep, I had no idea what time since there were no clocks in the room either and got a roommate around midnight. I was woken up the next morning at 5:30 am (I asked the time) to do blood work and a urine sample. Went back to sleep just be woken up again to see the medical doctor. They have every new patient see the medical doctor to make sure there is nothing physically wrong with you. I saw my psychiatrist sometime that morning and my social worker that afternoon. The first day was clearly a doozy with having to see so many people.
Every day was pretty much the same. Breakfast at 7am, lunch at 11am, snack, dinner at 5pm and a snack after that. I felt like I was back in school lining up to go walk to the cafeteria to go eat. It was actually overwhelming to eat 3 times a day since I generally forget to eat. Weekdays we had 3 groups, weekends we had 2. In the between times we would sit in one of the three day rooms and watch tv, do puzzles, color. If you got one of the Roku TVs you were lucky. All the different energies at once were exhausting at times, so I would end up laying down in my room and sometimes skip groups. I would try and nap but it never lasted long, you would get woken up for one reason or another. The techs had to know where you were every 15 minutes so there was someone always peeking their head in your room, no point in shutting the door. The sound of it opening and shutting 4 times an hour would wake me up.
There were a lot of personalities in there. One would expect that with the age range and various mental illnesses. There was drama over people hogging the phone and talking too much during groups. Definitely had ups and downs. Between it all I did pick up pieces of wisdom while talking to people individually and in groups. It felt very reassuring learning that you are not the only one with those thoughts and feelings. Other people understood my brain for once.
That’s the gist of my grippy sock vacation. I was discharged the following Monday so I was there for just shy of a week. I am not sure I want to get into too much detail of the specifics as to why I went. If you reach out to me individually I am more likely to share. This is my first semi vulnerable post and anyone who knows me knows I hate being vulnerable. But I have way too much to say, so I have to get it out somehow. Hopefully this may help someone, or maybe change your view slightly on mental health stays!
I have many more stories that I will word vomit onto the internet, so stay tuned!
xoxo