Well, I made it home! A source of great joy. It will be good to be here with my immediate family for a quiet Christmas. But, as with the anticipation, so too the homecoming had mixed emotions.

I was so excited when I woke up in hospital yesterday. I was full of longing for my discharge. I had a great consultation with my psychiatrist. ‘Midst peels of laughter (a great tonic) she was really pleased with my state of mental health and happy to discharge my into the care of the Home Treatment Team. So I waited, full of hope, for my wife to arrive to drive me home. 

The journey was slow with lots of holiday traffic. Eventually we made it home to a warm welcome from our two cats. And so began the process of settling back into life at home. 

It was lovely – gentle and warm and comforting. But, as the afternoon wore on, my mood dropped until I felt quite low and frightened. I hadn’t modulated like this for a few days. How irritating! Perhaps this wasn’t too surprising – it’s a big transition from the cocooned environment of a psychiatric hospital to one’s home. And the excitement of anticipation is bound to be followed by a dip. Nonetheless, it was quite frightening.

Despite the joy of seeing my son and daughter again, the downswing continued throughout the afternoon and evening. Exhaustion kicked in and I was glad to go to bed early. I aimlessly watched some Christmas TV but soon I was too tired for even that.

I tried to sleep but the big storm which was lashing the UK kept me awake with its terrifying noises. It was almost a metaphor for my mental health. Eventually, I succumbed to the welcome embrace of sleep. 

I woke tired but feeling much brighter. After the darkness comes the dawn, and so goes the modulations of mental illness.