Crazy Camp, The Reunion

NOTE: If you don't know anything about the time I spent in the outpatient depression program I affectionately call "Crazy Camp," go here.  Or, just know that in March 2008 I spent a week in an outpatient program in the psychiatric unit of my local hospital. 

The thing about Crazy Camp was, people were always coming and going.  It wasn't like everyone started Monday and finished Friday.  People started when they were either released from inpatient psychiatric care, or when they dragged themselves through the door.  So everybody at Crazy Camp was at a different stage of recovering from depression. 

I was in the second-to-last day of my time at Crazy Camp when "Sue" started.  Sue had just been released from the inpatient psychiatric unit.  The way Sue got to the unit was that she had been depressed, had plans for a suicide attempt, and told her regular doctor about those plans.  Soon she was being whisked off to the hospital and held against her will.  A few days later, she arrived at Crazy Camp.

Sue and I discovered that we lived very near one another, and so we kind of became buddies.  During lunch, I tried to strike up a conversation about local pizza places.  Sue was so out of it, she couldn't really focus on the conversation.  And in the group therapy sessions, every conversation seemed to be me trying to convince Sue not to end her life. 

Sue's second day in the program was my last, and I had to accept that I was going to leave the program and never find out what happened to Sue.  It was like seeing the first episode of a two-part "to be continued" TV show and never seeing the conclusion.  (You have to imagine that it is pre-Hulu/DVDs for this analogy to work.) 

The point is, I never knew what became of Sue.  But I thought about her often.  She had mentioned that she lived near the Wendy's closest to my house, and I could never pass that Wendy's without thinking about Sue. 

Well, you probably know where this is going.  A few days ago, I saw Sue. 

I didn't recognize her right away, but she was wearing a work ID with her name and workplace, and both of those matched Sue's description.  As we got to talking, she revealed more and more information that confirmed she was, in fact, Sue. 

When nobody else was around I brought up the subject of Crazy Camp.  Yes, she said, she had been there. 

I told her I always wondered about her.  I asked how she was doing.  She said she was doing well. 

We reminisced a little.  Oh, that Crazy Camp!  Those times were, well, Crazy!  Remember that time late at night when we raided the other cabin and switched their antidepressants with Pez?  Hahahahahaha!  Remember in the Mess Hall when we had that food fight because nobody wanted to eat their food anyway, because lack of appetite is a symptom of depression? 

Okay, obviously none of that happened.  We sat in a room and talked.  And cried.  And sometimes we filled out little workbooks.  Then we went home. 

Anyway.  Sue asked how I was doing, and I said I was doing well, too.  Which is the truth, overall. 

It was a weirdly heavy conversation to be having, given the venue. 

Shortly thereafter I had to leave to take Nathan to the library and then the gym.  It's hard for me, though, to just go about my day when I'm reminded of a life-changing experience like Crazy Camp.  And seeing Sue, and finally finding out that she's okay, and I'm okay, after that time when we were obviously both such the opposite of okay, it filled me with such a strong sense of hope that I was almost too stunned to move on with my daily activities. 

And if you are at a place where you're not okay, please get help.  Tell a doctor, and if that doctor blows you off, tell another doctor.  Or tell me.  (Click the big envelope in the sidebar to email me.)  There is so much hope for you.