Got about four hours of sleep last night.  Feeling a little more in control this morning.

Am on the phone with a counselor now.  I can admit myself, but there’s a $1500 deductible with my insurance that, frankly, I can’t afford.  I don’t want to take money from you guys.  I’ve asked you to donate to SSA, Camp Quest, and FSM-knows how many other causes this year.

Might see if they have a payment plan.

I’m going to finish with the counselor and go to work and keep digging on this.  My family knows, as do people close to me.  I’m being taken care of and watched.

I’m not tempted to self-harm right now, and I’ll likely be ok.  But, as my dad always said an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.  That’s what I’m after right now.

When you’re in a bad place with this type of condition, you shouldn’t generally trust your own judgment.  This, of course, means admitting there’s something wrong in the first place, which took me years and lots of effort from my friends.  Thankfully, now, I realize it’s difficult for me to be objective and I’m just listening to those I’m close to, and they’re telling me to admit myself briefly.  I truly feel for people who haven’t yet admitted to themselves that they have a problem and are still trying to “gut it out” on their own.

This article says it best, and sums up why I write openly about my own struggles.

There is a powerful stigma associated with being hospitalized. Many people feel ashamed, as if it’s a sign that they are “crazy” or “weak.” Some people fear that being hospitalized is the same thing as being institutionalized or sent to an asylum.

But that’s not the case. Usually, a stay in the hospital is just a way for you to recover in a safe and stable environment. This allows you to take a break from some of the daily stresses that contributed to your depression. Your health care providers can work with you to try different treatments and figure out which are best.

I know all of this is true, but all the same I still feel the stigma and it’s still difficult to write about.  Kind of like being on an airplane for me: I know I’m safe, but I’m still scared.  Well, I know mental conditions are physical conditions, but thanks to a society largely ignorant about how they work, I still am tempted to feel ashamed.

This is compounded by the fact that I know there are lots of people who would love to hang this over my head (a couple such comments have already been caught in moderation).

I’m gonna head into the office.  Will keep you updated.

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