This post picks up right where the last one left off.
On Feb. 1, a couple of the leaders met to discuss my situation. I wasn't there, but as Mary told me later, "I wish you could have been a fly on the wall to know how much those people love you!"
Mary and I called my parents together and filled them in on some things, and told them about the plan moving forward.
The plan that was put in place was for me to go with Uncle Jonnes, the Ugandan founder of NHU, as well as my sister Harriet to Kampala early the next morning to see a psychiatrist friend of Uncle Jonnes'. I don't remember for sure, but I think I slept very little, if at all.
I packed a bag, just because I was feeling unstable enough that I knew hospitalization was a possibility.
But it didn't come to that, thankfully.
I don't remember how long the psychiatrist and I talked, but she diagnosed me with Major Depressive Disorder, with the understanding that it might be Bipolar ... there just wasn't enough evidence yet for the latter diagnosis.
Back up.
Before our early morning departure from New Hope, Uncle Jonnes spoke to me briefly & privately. He said that he felt like the issues I was facing may be stemming from some inner sin. {He and Mary had spent a couple hours talking with me through some things the Sunday before.} My response in that moment was that I was confessing things that came up that I knew about, and so he was like "all right then, let's go."
If I had known then what I know now after years of reflection ... the frustrations and bitternesses towards some of my fellow NHU/M staff members .... I think I would have answered him differently. Come to think of it, I believe that's one of my big regrets and missed opportunities from the whole situation.
So, I left the psychiatrist's office with two prescriptions - an anti-depressant and an anti-psychotic. I would continue taking those two medications until mid-July.
At the psychiatrist's suggestion, I was also given sick leave for the month of February. During those days, I spent most of the time in my room, reading a couple different books that Mary and my mentor had suggested to me.
The anti-psychotic helped me sleep, and the anti-depressant helped stabilize my emotions .... Until I tried to start working half days in the office towards the end of the month. But I still had pretty low motivation, low appetite, and lack of drive in decision making.
Mind you - Kasana, where I lived, is out "in the bush," as they say in Uganda - away from the towns on the main road. To get down to see my psychiatrist every couple of weeks was at least a three-hour trip on public transportation - one way. This was one of the problems with my care plan, which wasn't the fault of anyone ... it was just a fact.
The third time I saw my psychiatrist, after I attempted to start working again and instead spiraled down emotionally once again, she suggested that my sick leave be extended by two weeks again, which would put me in the middle of March.
But March is a story for another day.
I didn't know what song to put on this post. This is the first one that came to mind. Obviously it's been written quite a bit more recently than the month this post is about. And I don't add this song to say it has already been accomplished in me ... But rather that this song is still something I need in this area of my life.
Written March 22, 2021
No comments:
Post a Comment