freethinking, it's funny you say that because initially I was very angry about my um...placement...but once the alcohol/drug fog lifted even just a bit, there was a very tiny voice in the back of my head that thought maybe somehow I could save me from myself. I will say one thing...being put in the psych ward was a very humbling experience. By all outward accounts I was a very successful woman...not a likely candidate for the nuthouse...but there I was and there I began to get honest w/ myself. Isn't it wierd how sometimes the worst thing that happens to you can also be the best?