Four years ago, my life was in shambles. A miscarriage early in the year led to a downward spiral in my mental health. By September of that year, I was drowning in my own pain and had all but given up on recovering from the heartache of my loss.
Instead of completely giving up, though, I timidly walked through the doors of my local psychiatric hospital to learn about the hospital’s intensive outpatient program (IOP).
I trembled as I shared my entire psychiatric history with the intake social worker, tears streaming down my face as my heart pounded.Read more on themighty.com