I found love in a psychiatric hospital

The last place I wanted to find myself in, in 1998 was on yet another psychiatric ward. I had been admitted so many times in the past, but this was a different kind of admission. This story may be triggering for some.

1997 was the year my life had enshrouded completely in darkness. I had been living in a turmoil of abuse for some time and as a result I lost everything including my home and those special little ones in my life. After being moved into a hostel after a previous hospital admission, which was near one of the houses I had suffered so much abuse, and landed me faced with violence and stalking by those abusers, and having being abused in previous areas I had lived in, my world shattered and I had had enough. I was completely traumatised and exhausted from the constant attacks I had faced over the years, and none of the authorities heard my cries. I decided to move away with a friend, however that turned into a complete nightmare. This is my truest story of which I never told until now.

In 1997 everything had gone, my kids, my home, my life. I was supposed to have been placed somewhere supportive after my previous psychiatric admission which was caused by the heavy violence I seemed to be plagued with. However, this hostel was unsupportive, and I was trapped, with very little support. I was also close to where all the abuse had started, and I was stalked and constantly attacked outside the hostel. I was already vulnerable, not looking after myself and in a very bad way mentally. I was really depressed, not eating well and on the brink of ending my life. I had had enough, so I took of to Scarborough with a friend.

I loved Scarborough, I enjoyed the sea, and the harbour. However, everything was stolen from me in the place I stayed, and I was bullied, tormented, raped and abused. One particular night, I decided to join someone who I thought I could trust for a chat because I was feeling lonely, infact I was always lonely here. I had known him well for at least 4 months and in that time I had never been hurt by him, only shown friendship. I had never known him drink or do drugs, and at that time I was with others who I thought were friends. The others left early, as they were going out, I decided to stay a while. I eventually left after a pleasant night, to sleep in my own room. I had locked the door on my room, but the lock was unstable and he managed to get in my room. That night I smelt the stench of alcohol on someones breath, and I felt crushed and unable to move as I felt someone on top of me. I had no idea this was my 'friend' until he spoke after I resounded a loud 'NO!' I tried shouting for help, but I was stopped from talking, I felt useless. When he left, I couldn't move for a short while, I felt bruised and sore. I crawled to the shower, and holding onto the rail, I scrubbed until tears fell down my face, then I just left.

That night turned into the worst of my nights. I had been homeless before, but this was harder. After so much previous trauma I was very screwed up. I was left with no shelter, food, drink or money and I slept in a park, or on a bench for weeks with my only resource being a stream. When I was sat on a bench in a park, a man walked past me with a dog and someone else, he stopped to try to help, but I said no because all I wanted that night, was to be left alone and I was terrified to reach out to anyone.

After a few weeks, I got sharp pains in my stomach, followed by 'trickling.' I completely ignored it, because I was having trouble thinking and absorbing what had happened, and I didn't want to tell anyone about the shame of what had happened to me. I had been through this before, which made it even worse. I was also sick, dehydrated and weak because due to having no money, I hadn't eaten or drank hardly anything for months. The pain got worse, and eventually I crawled to a phone box and asked for help. I noticed my arms were bleeding and I didn't know why until I saw what was in my other hand. The person on the other end of the line asked my name, location and date of birth, but I couldn't remember any of them. They came to see me, but I was in a state, crying, stammering, shaking, and they could barely understand a word I was saying. After a fight with me, they admitted me to hospital, but I was never thinking of what happened next.

When I got to the hospital, it took two people to help me stand up because I was so weak. Someone was sat on the staircase when I was admitted and he saw the state I was in. I had been given a drink, but it didn't stay down long, and I had been given sleep medication, but I had nightmares all night. I was completely exhausted. The next morning I woke up, I looked in the mirror and cried. I didn't recognise myself at all, my clothes were dirty, my trainers were falling apart, my hair was dirty and in a state, my face was covered in spots, my leggings were ripped, and I was so underweight that nothing I wore fitted me, and I had no other clothes to wear.

I went downstairs that morning and tried coffee and toast which just came back up. I gave up eating again, and when I restarted, I was either throwing it up or forcing it up. Eventually I stopped altogther, though I did tolerate fluids until they stayed down. I was still shaking, there were people everywhere in the 'smoke room' where I smoked the cigarette I had been given, and I couldn't talk to them. I curled up in a corner, head down, knees up, and rocked back and forth without lifting my head up. I was like this for weeks.

One of the ladies in the room attempted conversation with me after a few weeks, and all I could do was stammer and shake. She was nice, and she had alot of patience, where as everyone around me was getting frustrated with me. I was so timid and fragile that even understanding myself became difficult, and I did manage an 'hello' but that was all for a few weeks. Eventually this lady started to understand me, and eventually I became comfortable talking, but only for about 5 minutes.

I'd been having my morning drink in the dining room, usually by myself for a while. I was starting to observe other people and slowly learning to interact again, though trust took much longer. On this particular day I was watching a group of people sat by the window, lost in deep conversation with a man I thought was really smart. However I didn't dare speak or attempt to talk to him or them as I was afraid of getting hurt. I had coffee, observed, and left, going back into my corner in the smoke room. After a little while I started to attempt chat again, but only with 2 women. One of these women had started befriending me with much difficulty, but I started trying though still afraid.

After a short while, my medication began kicking in, and although I still couldn't remember who I was, I started chatting more, but it was interspaced with stammering, and every now and then I lost the ability to chat due to low mood, anxiety, depression and symptoms of PTSD flashbacks which kicked in hard and made me talk in illogical ways and in the past rather than the present. This was hard to get through, I started feeling worthless, unwanted, useless and I started losing the will to carry on.

There was a man in this hospital who I remembered from the dining room, he kept peeking into the smoke room which was confusing people who said he had never done that before! I found this quite comical as they were saying he was looking for me. In my eyes, no man wanted to be interested in me, only to abuse me again. I had lost track of time altogether, and my friend advised me to try talking more, which I did, but the only way I could do it was to go into the t.v. lounge and ask for the time. I was too scared to talk properly, but as I had no watch, I did this a few times with the very man they spoke about, however I soon regressed again.

A few days later, I was having my coffee in the usual dining area, and he was in there. He walked straight past me, after falling over a chair and losing everything then burning his toast because I attempted a smile for the first time. He sat with me for a bit, but I had no idea what he was thinking, because I wasn't easy to talk to or understand. I had no interest in a relationship because all the abuse had taken its toll, and I had no idea what love was. That evening I was in tears after a disagreement with a couple of workers on the ward over something serious going on in my life, I curled up back in my corner and he found me there. He came straight to me and asked how I was, my response was "better than ever, now go away! leave me alone!" He did go away but said he would be back, I didn't believe him because I was used to being left. 5 minutes later he came back with a hot chocolate for me and somehow he got me talking about things. I have no idea, even today how he did that, but he managed it. Afterwards I was confused and beside myself, in my opinion of which I told everyone "He was too perfect for me! I was dirty and worthless." I made several attempts to try and avoid conversation after that, but he was always outside my room at the coffee tray, insisting on making my morning drinks instead of staff. I was going out of my mind, because I found myself talking to this man and I couldn't understand why. He knew I was timid, fragile and a complete mess, but he knew how to approach me.

Things took a while before I could do anything. Food was still tricky, instead of throwing up, I had resorted to forcing it up because food made me feel sick to my stomach. I also hadn't been out for a while, and I refused to go out with staff because I feared getting hurt. My sort of new found friend had realised this and he realised I was cashless. Every day he was buying my cigarettes, and that then turned into things like toilettries which I badly needed. However, much to my stunned disbelief, he managed to get me to walk to the beach with him and after that I was going out with him quite a bit.

He gained my trust, because one night, I had walked out in a state. The idea was only to go to the door to get some air, but I didn't come back for a while. Staff never came to find me, and my friend was worried so he came to find me. He saved my life that night, because when he found me I was unaware of where I was, and I was 2 seconds away from walking out into the busy road. He took me by the hand, and got me safely back inside. It turns out that I had been triggered by a major flashback.

It had been a while, but my confidence was slowly coming back. I was attempting food more, going out more and talking more with this mans help. I was still fragile and stammering, and the staff didn't seem to understand my needs at all. I was lacking friendship, missing my kids and my family had no idea where I was, even though a professional was told to tell them. The only way my mum found out, was because this man called her and told her. I got to a stage where I was going to bed and waking up thinking about him, and I was so scared, I kept trying to push it away. I had no intention of getting involved, but my mind was wrapped in this man, and I was bringing myself back up in ways I never thought possible with him around. I became very chatty, but it was mixed in with 'word salad' issues and stammering, but over time, after many conversations with this man, that started to fade, except it came back every now and then.

After so long of living in fear, I was head over heals and completely into him. I had no idea why, and I wasn't sure about this feeling. I had to ask for help in recognising it. It seemed everyone including staff knew I was in love, but I had no idea what it was. All I knew was that being without him was too painful and added to my own pain. He disappeared somewhere, and I went out of my mind thinking he would never come back.

One night, he invited me to walk to the garage with him. We walked and talked, and I shocked myself to the core. I suddenly grabbed him, kissed him and said the words 'I love you.' We walked back, hand in hand that night. I was very confused, worked up, and again in tears as I couldn't understand why this had happened. I was scared to feel this way, because feelings got me hurt all the time. I had problems explaining this to him, I didn't know what to do. I was lucky he was single as everyone thought he was taken.

One special morning, I woke frantic because I had no idea where he had gone. He had gone back to the flat to see how he felt about being there, noone could console me, or get me to believe he was coming back. But he did! However, not without further shock to my system. He felt strange there without me, and he realised he was in love, and he explained all this, then asked me to move in with him. I didn't know what to do, I was nervous and scared, but I had to make a choice. This new life with the man I had seriously fallen for, or my old life which had fallen apart. It took a while to decide, because I knew I had been hurt badly and I barely knew who I was. I chose to take the risk, because someone who could help me through all that trauma was worth it. I realized then I was in love, though due to trauma I kept questioning it. Moving in worked out well, but it wasn't without complications, because we had both been traumatised. We eventually married and had children, but it was complicated severely by past problems and I especially had to have a lot of help. We went through an abusive period without realising it because we were reliving things, and I was exceptionally unwell for a very long time. We have just got through that now and overcome it. We have been together 17 plus years, but we have been through thick and thin, hurt each other because of illness along the way without meaning to,but we have been there for each other, stood by each other, and got through it all.

My relationship today is different, non-abusive and very loving. It took alot of heartache, pain and trauma. However these issues were different to purposeful abuse. They were recycling of our old past, which can be very difficult to get through when you don't know what is happening. We had professional help to overcome it and we had to work very hard to stay together and make things secure. I would never tell anyone to stay in an abusive relationship after being through what I have, but just to be aware that without help, when you have been through trauma, issues can arise in a relationship without help. We got through it, and today we are in a very different place altogether. It took me many years, even after marraige to realise the man I love was right under my nose, and even longer to realise he loved me all along. We are happy together, we have just been through a difficult journey. However, it is a myth that being mentally ill means your incapable of love. Of course some mental illnesses are more complicated than others, but PTSD, Anxiety, Depression and even a personality disorder does not make us void of feeling. It does mean, you both have to be willing, committed and able to work on it, and that takes more strength than people think. I never thought I'd meet the love of my life as an in-patient on a psychiatric ward, it was unintentional, but when you have feelings for someone and you don't even know it, and you have been through the trauma I did before that, and that person is still there at the end of the trauma, though you've put each other through hell because of it, that is love and it can work with professional help and commitment.