I don’t think anyone ever imagines themselves ending up as an inpatient in a psych hospital. I know I certainly didn’t.
If you look at my life objectively, it would seem that by most standards, I am a successful adult. I am (almost) 24 years old. I have a well-paying job that is relevant to my college degree. I have been happily married for almost two years. My husband and I own a house. We have a savings account and an emergency fund. We have good credit scores, two happy dogs, and a lot of great friends.
For the past year, I have also been really honest about my mental illness in person and via social media. I post about anxiety, depression, attempts at self compassion, hard days, grief, etc.
I did not see this coming. Continue reading “The Last Place I Expected”