
Learning in the Storm: Surviving the First Week After Discharge
Learning in the Storm: Surviving the First Week After Discharge

The system calls it “home-based support.” Parents call it “living on edge.”
Content warning: references to self-harm and suicidal feelings.
When someone is discharged from a psychiatric unit, everyone breathes a sigh of relief, except the people taking them home.
The truth is, those first few days are often more dangerous than the hospital stay. Routines break, the safety net disappears, and emotions swing from calm to chaos in minutes.
Here’s what I’ve learned, and what I wish more professionals understood.
1. “Home-based support” is usually just a phone call
They promise daily contact. In reality, it’s often a rushed phone check-in. If you’re lucky, you’ll speak to the same person twice.
Ask who’s responsible, what the process is for a crisis, and how to reach someone out of hours.
Tip: Write names and numbers on one clear sheet and stick it where you can find it fast.
2. Nights are the hardest
Without the structure of the ward, nights stretch endlessly. Sleep is often replaced by pacing, panic, or silence that feels too quiet.
Tip: Build a soft routine, warm drink, calm lighting, and low-stimulation distractions like colouring or music. Consistency becomes safety.
3. Keep a “safety sweep”
It sounds extreme, but it’s not paranoia. It’s prevention.
Remove sharps, medicines, cords, and anything that could cause harm. Not forever, just until stability returns.
Tip: If it feels obsessive, remember: prevention is an act of love, not control.
4. Don’t believe “fine”
People who are newly discharged often mask to please staff or family. They want to seem okay. But the internal storm rarely switches off overnight.
Tip: Focus on actions, not words. Withdrawal, irritability, or exhaustion often speak louder than reassurance.
5. You need support too
Parents are often forgotten in discharge plans. There’s no helpline for “I can’t sleep because I’m scared she’ll harm herself again.” But you still need rest, food, and moments of quiet.
Tip: Choose one small daily ritual that’s yours, five minutes of stillness, a walk with the dogs, a message to someone who gets it.
Final thought
Discharge isn’t the finish line, it’s a handover.
The risk doesn’t vanish when the door opens. It just shifts back to the people who love the hardest.
You can’t control everything. You can only build small layers of safety, conversation, calm, and consistency. And when that feels too fragile, remind yourself: you’re doing what professionals call containment. The difference is, you’re doing it with love.
Your calm in the chaos,
Sami xx
