Last month, while visiting Fredericksburg, I stayed in a hotel room overlooking a psychiatric ward. You’d never know it from the outside. The place appeared almost idyllic—an inconspicuous building nestled among trees spreading a canopy of dense verdant green.
Truth be told, it’s pretty good on the inside as well, as these places go. I know because I was a resident there more than ten years ago, at the lowest point in my life. There was something strangely comforting about returning to it from the future, stationed in a room perched directly above the compound. It brought back an intense mix of emotions, but it also served as a welcome reminder that any moment is just that: a moment. Predicting the future is as difficult as understanding the past.
As time passes, my ties to Fredericksburg grow weaker, but I still carry a lot of history there—far more good than bad.
I could look down at Snowden and recognize it as a turning point in my life, the beginning of a long road toward recovery, healing, and reclaiming myself. No small thing. In fact, as I was looking down from the 4th floor I found myself imagining the same possibility for the current residents at Snowden. If I could tell them anything, it would be this: mental illness is a bitch, and every bit of support you receive while coming to terms with the fact that your mind cannot always be trusted matters enormously. Don’t let any one moment define you, and never give up hope.
“mental illness is a bitch, and every bit of support you receive while coming to terms with the fact that your mind cannot always be trusted matters enormously. Don’t let any one moment define you, and never give up hope.”
Well said, my friend, well said and worthy of repeating. I know I’m only here now because of a couple ‘bits of support’ I received at a critical point 30+ yrs ago when my mind wasn’t doing its best work.
I’m glad you’re here Jim and I’m glad things turned around for you at Snowden. My life’s been better and more enjoyable because things got better for you. Thanks. I’m here for you anytime buddy.
I am glad I am here too, and I am glad you are commenting on this post. see, things can always be better in this mad, mad, mad, mad world 🙂
That must have been something, looking down at the courtyard! I’m glad you made it. Glad you’re here.
It was definitely weird, to think all that happened in between was pretty wild, and to take sstock of it for a moment before plunging into the daily routine was important. That’s probably why i posted it here, as a reminder for myself.
Beautifully said. I was talking with a friend this past week about falls, ebbs and dips in mental health. We’d both had recent blips but with time and experience you learn that things pass and better times are always ahead. Frustration and relief in equal mix.
So true, and I think the biggest thing for me was understanding mental illness iss as quotidian and mundane as anything else. It is what we exist with, it is how we work and seeing where that sense of normalcy and “illness” blur is so damn hard. It takes a practiced eye with decades of experience. Knowing perspective might be the most valuable tool to understanding it, or even enjoying life more generally 🙂
100%! Oh the hubris when I think I’ve finally cracked the line between normalcy and “illness” ? It’s a lifelong process. Got to continuously be kind and patient with oneself and be open to the journey ?