Lots of people ask how I am doing. I truly appreciate the fact that they know that I, too, am going through something difficult with all of this. I usually answer with an, “I’m okay,” or, “Eh, so so,” with a slight shake of my head. I’ve never been one to hide how I’m feeling
Along with everyone I know reaching out to me and being supportive (and wanting me to pass message after message of support on to Rory), many of them have also shared their own stories. Either they themselves have a mental illness, or are or have been very close to someone who has. I’m pretty sure
I got a little less than an hour with Rory this evening, but it was so great to see him. He was in good spirits with me, and was very happy to see me. As I was to see him. It kind of felt like I hadn’t seen him in at least a week, so
I got a brief report, but I’ll know more when I see him tonight. Less anxious about it now. Glad to have some contact.
I have no idea how he’s doing, and that kills me. I have no idea what they are doing to help him, what kinds of medication they’re trying, what kinds of therapy he is a part of. What does his room look like? How are they monitoring him? It’s hard for me not to know
[Guest post by Jenny, aka The Girlfriend.] No post from Rory yesterday, but with good reason. He spent much of the day in bed, and then we took him to the hospital. Nothing sudden brought on our visit; it had to be done. He is now checked in at a local mental health facility. Sometimes
[Guest post by Jenny, aka The Girlfriend.] I battle anxiety generally, and deal with much stronger (read: debilitating) anxiety and panic attacks on a less regular basis. I’ve had a couple of minor bouts with depression. But the rest of the time, I’m a very functional adult. Having had my own experiences with the above,
