Coming Home After Inpatient: Building Safety, Language, and Trust скачать в хорошем качестве

Coming Home After Inpatient: Building Safety, Language, and Trust

What do you do when the hospital says, “She’s ready to come home,” but your heart whispers, “I’m not ready at all”? This is the episode where we talk about the messy middle—when hope returns and fear tags along anyway. Before we dive in, a gentle content note: we talk candidly about mental health and suicide. If you’re in crisis, call 911 for immediate danger or call/text 988 to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. You are loved. You are not alone. Today I’m telling the story of the days between discharge papers and real life—when my daughter was doing “well enough” to leave inpatient, and I was suddenly the one responsible for keeping her, and our home, safe. I had jobs, two younger kids, and a brain full of “what-ifs.” We didn’t get a manual; we got a moment. And in that moment, I realized the work wasn’t over—it was changing addresses. We talk about logistics and love—asking for work accommodations, securing a rare spot in an outpatient program, and turning our house from “dark and cramped” to a place that felt lighter and more possible. We talk about DBT skills, butter knives, arts-and-crafts with shaking hands, and the small, brave steps that add up to a new kind of life. Key Themes + Takeaways Discharge isn’t the finish line—it’s a handoff. The care continues at home. Safety is practical and compassionate: locks on drawers, rides to outpatient, language for hard moments. Skills matter: DBT tools (grounding, asking for help, “happy place”) can turn panic into participation. Environment impacts wellbeing: light, space, and small home updates can shift how a day feels. Shared language builds trust: “Are you really fine?” became our agreed-upon second door of honesty. It’s okay not to know: parents and kids are both first-timers at some point. Asking for help is a strength. Our Favorite Quotes “Discharge didn’t mean ‘all clear.’ It meant, ‘She’s coming home—and we need a plan.’” “I wasn’t ready to go back to boom-boom-boom life without a single breath to myself.” “A butter knife felt like a mountain—so we started with a plastic one.” “You’ll live in a world with people who haven’t taken the training—and you’ll use the skills anyway.” “It is okay to not be okay. It is okay to not know yet.” Chapter Markers 00:00 — Disclaimer & lifelines: naming hard things and how to get help 00:52 — The discharge meeting: relief meets responsibility 03:21 — Real-world logistics: work hours, summer gap, and childcare math 07:49 — Home matters: the dark house, Duluth winter, and making light again 12:37 — A golden spot: landing an outpatient seat and juggling schedules 14:28 — Safety plan at home: locks, codes, and keeping everyone safe 23:25 — Hands shaking, still trying: DBT, scissors, and arts-and-crafts as exposure therapy 29:22 — Language we agreed on: “Are you really fine?” and choosing trust 32:19 — Closing loop: breaking small harmful cycles, together Your Turn This week’s gentle journal prompt: “Where in your home—or your schedule—could one small change make safety and honesty a little easier?” If you need support right now: Call or text 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline). You matter. MB01WTZWDRNMFJA