Not Quite Crazy

I came home from the psych ward today, and I'm quite tired. But it was nearly a week of much needed isolation (to a point) and protection. One of the questions that staff members ask patients on a regular basis at this hospital is, "Do you feel safe?" And I did. I also benefitted from the group therapy sessions, and I'll begin outpatient therapy very soon. All in all, I feel better.

Although I plan to continue blogging, I'm going to blog from another space. "Above Sunset Boulevard" will be retired. I've been away from Los Angeles from almost two years now, and I think it's time I move on -- in many ways -- though I'd still love to live in L. A. My blogging efforts will, more than likely, increase, and anyone who truly wants to read my future stuff, just send a comment to this posting, and I'll send you the name of my new blog.

Until then, take good care.

And So It Goes (thank you, Kurt)

I write this from the psych ward at a major hospital in Minneapolis, MN, about 20 minutes from my current home in Bloomington, MN. Of all ironies, I'm in the same psych ward where my wife recently spent 10 days after a serious attempt to take her life. I didn't intend to admit myself to the hospital; rather, I came into the family aftercare program as a result of her recent unsuccessful try at easing her pain. And I just simply couldn't stop crying. The therapist took me to the E. R., and the psychiatrist on duty decided to admit me to the hospital. So here I am.

I feel a bit of relief from facing the storms in our lives, though I know I'll have to face them later. I hope to have a few more tools to work with. But for today, I feel almost safe. Now that the houseslipper is on the other foot, my wife is bringing me some clean clothes, and while she's here, I'll have a large chocolate shake at the in-hospital McDonald's, open 24/7.

A couple of oddities, and then I'll sign off for now. One young woman patient on the ward is from San Diego and truly dislikes the Twin Cities. She, too, came here at the invitation of a relative who later decided that she wasn't so welcome after all. And I just learned that another female patient worked for Eastern Airlines from 1967-1972 as a "Stewardess" and came through the Birmingham, Alabama, airport many, many times during my two years as an Eastern gate agent.

And as Vonnegut said so many times, "And so it goes."