“Maybe, there’s a world where we won’t have to run, and
Maybe, there’s a time we’ll call our own,
Living free in harmony and majesty,
Take me home,
Take me home.”
Theme tune to “Grizzly Adams”
—–
I’ve been in hospital over a week and I was allowed out overnight this weekend. Allowed home. Allowed freedom. How quickly we forget and overlook the gifts we have until they are withdrawn.
Going home after a period of time as an in-patient can be very stressful. I become institutionalised very quickly. I am removed from the diurnal stresses of life and encouraged to accept routine. The hospital becomes a safe haven, a source of respite.When I arrive home, I am usually irritable and exhausted. What is meant to be a happy occasion can easily turn sour. I also act quite selfishly. Everyone is getting on with their daily lives and I want all the focus to be on me. But, after a few hours, I can relax back into a semblance of normality.
Mental illness gives me a window to my soul. It allows me to feel more deeply, to be more sentimental. A visit home is like finding lost treasure. I can make coffee whenever I wish. I can eat when I like. I can go for a walk. Simple things.
I crave human contact. At home, I can toss my sons’ hair, talk to them, give them a hug. I can hold my wife, take her hand, sleep beside her and smell the unique scent of her hair. These acts recharge my soul and give me hope. They give me life. They can see me through the worst depression.
Our home is such an integral part of life and yet we take it for granted so easily. Tonight I lose my freedom and return to hospital. It is a bitter pill to swallow. But, all going well, I will return home next weekend for a while. Eventually, I will return for good. My memories of home will help sustain me. My memories will help me heal.
