My Last Post . . . On Depression.

There is a lot about depression that many people do not seem to understand. The most major thing that people fail to realize is that it is different for different people. For many people they ignore the feeling because it feels so normal that they just adjust to it, or so they think they adjust to it. It is the moment that a person thinks they are adjusting that they are at the point where they really need help. For me I hid it so well and had withdrawn in such a manner that I felt I was just going to live the way I was without anyone ever noticing.

The thoughts in my head became so strong that trying to ignore them was normal; it was a part of my day to day. There was no feeling of worthlessness just the feeling of how do I keep others from noticing that I am not happy. It became so hard to pretend that work was double hard. I had to remember how the normal me acted in certain situations and then precede to fake emotions and pretend I was the person I was before things got bad.

This all went on until my brain just could not take the extra effort anymore and was looking for a way, anyway, to make it all stop. So I got the idea of suicide, had I not used writing to express my sadness and tell my friends, family and the man I hoped to be the last man I ever loved, that I wanted to end it all, it would have certainly all stopped for good. I needed to be sure that it was what I wanted to do and so I went to work and sure enough, as the day went on I was convinced it was the right thing.

If it had not been for my mother checking her email before I thought she would, I would not be around to write about the ordeal that I had to undergo to not only understand what I was dealing with but the severity and then how to manage it.

Medication and a strong support system is what I was missing in my life. It turned out I had it all backwards and to this day I have to live with the hurt of when I realized that some people just do not care as much as they say they do.

The thing about medications is that you cannot just stop; I know I tried it and learned the hard way. When my medication ran out withdrawal began almost immediately. First I suffered from insomnia and then a total loss of appetite even when I sat down to eat I couldn’t and when I laid down to sleep my mind would race and my body would ach to be doing something more active. One would think that I would have used the time to be more productive but I could not, no matter how hard I tried. The thoughts got worse and worse.

At my lowest point I remember a wide range of emotions happening in rapid succession. I would experience fear for no obvious reason, anger, rage, sadness, hurt, despair, loneliness, I would try to attribute some cause to how I was feeling, try to pinpoint a why other than something being wrong with me but none of it made since and all I could do was sit and think. I was strapped in and the rollercoaster had begun to move and no matter how loud I screamed the rid would not stop.

For several days I dealt with this terrifying experience, I wanted to talk to someone but when I tried I could not form the words to say “Help.” I tried to explain what I was dealing with to my aunt and mother but for fear of over worrying them I simply told them I was not sleeping. It was the truth but not the whole truth. I wanted to talk to someone who I could feel would simply listen without trying to, “Fix me.” But I felt there was no one. I could never get the right people on the phone at the right time or they would try to have the conversation with me via text and one of my other emotions would take over and would come across as moody, or mean, or simply distant.

A part of me was screaming and screaming loud, I knew I needed help and the rational part of me wanted help. But what do you say to someone after you ask for help, what do you tell them? I was just going through withdrawal and in a few days it would be over.

The saddest part is that I was fine so long as I had some kind of immediate obligation such as work or meeting friends but the moment I had a day off the worst thing happened to me. I was at a point where I thought I was fine. I was taking sleeping pills to help me sleep and I was eating again but the thoughts were all still there. I would get scared to call my family for fear that they had bad news or that because I had not talked to them they were angry with me. I chose not to call friends because I could not think of a way to express myself that did not make me sound crazy. I was home alone and not a soul knew what I was up to.

Sitting at my computer working on my blog I thought I was fine and then I got a text while I was in a rage and I snapped at the person. The person having no idea what I was going through gave a nasty retort and I tried to explain myself but it was coming out all wrong, I sounded like a crazy person. I tried to call but there was no answer I wanted to explain myself and no matter how many times I called it was confirmation of my thoughts.  I had thought about all kinds of ways to end the pain over the past few days but each time I went to do it the rational part of me gave a reason why not to and I stopped.

I was now arguing with myself in my head, “DO THIS. NO, Do that instead! Wait this is a better idea!” I finally had it and could think of only one thing to make it all stop. I had done the research and the bottle was right there. “If you don’t want to talk to me then fine you will never have to deal with me again!” that was the text I sent right before I used what was left of a gallon jug of water to swallow an almost full bottle of sleeping pills.

I was shocked that it was so easy and I was sure I did not have long because I used liquid gels. I took a minuet and then it dawned on me that I was being irrational and in a panic and fear of myself I called 911. My head went into another whirlwind and I was thinking about so much so fast that before I could take a single action, the paramedics were already in the house looking for me. I was defeated and so I walked down the stairs and into the ambulance.

Even once I was in the emergency room I thought about running out. Even though I was faking calm my heart rate was elevated and my blood pressure was dangerously high. I felt I had lost the battle and that thought made me hope that somehow the pills would rush into my system and I would die the slow painful death that I had read about.

However I knew that being where I was it was the start of another amusement park rid and I was strapped in and could not get off until the rid was over. So I sent a text and told the person who I sent my last text to that I was in the ER and to call my mother. After I sent the text it was clear that my stomach did not like how the overdose felt and so I vomited. I then was given a drink to induce me to vomit yet again.

When my mother arrived the feeling of defeat was so strong that I cried and cried hard. I never cry, since I was in middle school I had simply stopped crying I just get sad or depressed and when the feeling is gone I return to normal. But this time I cried I was exhausted and could not fight what was going on inside of me. I could not bottle my emotions and I could not voice how I was feeling so there was only one thing left to do and I did it.

If you have read all the post prior to this you know how this story ends. I do not share this story for sympathy or kudos or anything of that nature. I am simply sharing in hopes to help someone else, to let people know some of the things that can lead to suicide, and that depression is a lot harder to deal with than people think. Depression is also difficult because it effects and manifest it’s self in many different people in many different ways.

Sometimes I sit and think about all that I have lost to depression, in a way I lost some friends, I can no longer trust people the same way I used to and I lost MeTo. I tried hard to be honest but for the last few months I just could not tell anyone how I felt because I did not know how. My real friends made an honest effort to help me but how can they help a person who has learned how to fake being well, so well? My life has changed so drastically because of this; mostly for the good but there is a whole future that I was so sure I was going to have that is gone.  I mourn that loss as I should and I hope that the day soon comes when I can see a new future and be just as excited if not more. 

Simply put, this is my story.  

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 6, “The Final Blow”

I decided to send my friends a text telling them I just got out the hospital. The response was shocking it basically went like this. From Icon there was no response and from the other two, “Sorry but we are all going through stuff.” I was so taken back that these were my so called best friends and here they find out I attempted suicide and there is no sign of concern, I guess I should have known when they chose to never call or text to ask why I was not hanging out with them.

Set to just cut all the bad from my life I sent a text to MeTo and told him I needed to talk to him. When I got him on the phone he told me how he was worried and thought he was making things worse so he decided to keep his distance. At that I backed down from cutting off all contact. I tried to understand his logic and told him that if I had gotten a message it would have made things easier.

The day came when I was supposed to start outpatient therapy but there was a mix up so my intake appointment was rescheduled. Then a week later my meds ran out. I began experiencing really bad withdrawal. I could not eat, and I could not sleep and when I tried to call MeTo to talk there was no answer.

Things began to get really bad around day two, I could no longer control my mood and sleeping and eating was completely out of the question. MeTo would text me but not call and I would snap and he would then get distance. I tried to explain to him what was going on but it was hard via text message and he still refused to answer the phone or call. I figured it was a lost cause expecting him to be there for me and that I was reaching for the stars expecting him to help me.

By the time my refill was called in I was done with the withdrawal and decided to stay off of the meds. It had been two days since I talked to MeTo when on Tuesday he sent me a text that he was worried and that he missed me. I retorted back yeah right. He then told me he was done trying to convince me that he cared and said he gets the picture he would stay away. Once again I tried to explain things to him and then tried to call and he still would not answer. I became impulsive and angry and suicidal. I tried smoking and it was not helping and so I told him that if he did not want to talk to me that I would just end it and so I downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills.

My body was shaking and the shock of how easy swallowing the pills was pulled me back just long enough to call 911. I gave my address and explained what happened. I was told to stay on the line for poison control but I hung up. I was once again confused as to what I should do. Do I leave the house, or do I go and lie and say it was a false alarm? I had only moments and before I could think I heard the paramedics in the house. I went down stairs and told them what happened.

Before I knew it I was at the hospital and told to lie down. I was angry and hurt and disappointed that I ended up back in this place. A part of me blamed MeTo, if he had just once picked up the phone to call me without me asking or begging him to I would feel that he cared and I would not want to hurt myself for being stupid. But I knew the blame was all mine because I allowed him in. I deserved what I got and I was unsure if I wanted to survive.

I was asked a thousand questions about hearing voices and why I did it. I was embarrassed so I lied as to why but everything else was the truth. MeTo began texting me asking why but I felt no real concern so I told him to call my mother and tell her I was sorry and let her know what happened. It was not long before she showed up with my step father and I began to cry. I finally did it I cried and everything came out. I felt stronger. All my life I just wanted to cry when I felt hurt but years of being hurt so often made it so that I could only bottle it all up.

I was told to drink activated carbon, charcoal mixed with sugar and water. It made me HURL, anything that was in my stomach and lower intestines, came up in huge burst. And when I was empty my stomach tried to push out more. It looked like someone tried to die their hair black using the toilet.

After several hours of observation I was sent to crises center where I retold the story of not what just happened that day but when I first had thoughts of suicide. I considered myself lucky because I could attribute this attempt medically to going off my meds and because I was already on outpatient I was ok to go home.  The last thing I wanted was to be stuck inside another crises center.

I went home and took my meds, it was official I had no choice but to take pills for my immediate future. But one thing was clear the pills helped and MeTo made my greatest fear come true, that when I really needed him and really wanted him, he was not there. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 5 “Welcome Home, Bon Voyage.”

I was excited to spend time with my mother but kind of happy that she had to go back to work, I was anxious to see my Roommate and talk to all the friends who showed extreme concern.  When I got home there was my roommate Marcy sitting on the porch with a few other people. I had a tone of stuff to bring in the house and once it was all in I hugged my mother and I sat to talk to my roommate.

I told her of a few stories and she told me what she had gone through. My mother had told her that I was coming home and Marcy planned accordingly. There was a card for me and as she was leaving the next day for a vacation. We had a few people come over that night. My straight boyfriend had bought me a cookie the day I was 302ed to cheer me up and of course I had to explain to all my roommates and friends what exactly happened that day.

I had to keep my drinking to a minimum as I was officially on an anti-depressant but I had a blast. Soon it was bed time and things took a turn for the worse. I had invited a friend over and we ended up sleeping together. This started a long chain of promiscuous behavior for me.   I remember calling Stacy and Bella and the first thing Stacy asked was if I got laid and I told her I did. We laughed and then talked about who was still there and was not.

I took the rest of the week off from work so I could get adjusted and take care of things. The next day I awoke to find Marcy gone as expected. I was home alone to do nothing but think. The amount of support shown for what I went through was astounding. I was so touched that I was still on cloud nine. There was just one major thing missing, my so called best friends. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 4 “Oh The People You Meet.”

Hello Mr. Abercrombie

So there is not much to look at in crises centers but Thursday during outside time there was my roommate who had the sexy eyes and the quiet guy who was built ford tough and you know would just be one good ride.   We watched as he threw the football back and forth. Stacy had a boyfriend of ten years and while she liked the view there were too many years of looking at the menu and eating at home, that and she preferred black guys. We kept our eye on him and made it our mission to get to know him.

By lunch time Friday after being told the doctors wanted to keep me up to 20 more days in this place I was determined to become some kind of head honcho. If I had to stay 20 days I was going to break some rules, that meant finding out which side of Abercrombie’s bread was buttered, Besides Anastasia liked him too. So we waited for him to sit down during lunch, he sat at a four top and we sat with him.  He was clearly nervous and so we waited for him to calm down and then I got the ball rolling. He would not talk too much when I was around but he did open up to Anastasia when I walked away to get something to drink. He then asked why I was there and when he asked why, his first guess ways guys then he added girls as if to make it seem he was open to all people but to us it just sounded a bit to second nature but I was not yet convinced.

At smoke break I was given a paper that I was only up to 6 more days which meant I could get laid regardless.

Hello Bella

This real sexy Italian woman was all quiet and sitting alone in the activities room and so I sat next to her with no intention of befriending but low and behold she was perfect. I could not imagine how she could be here but naturally it was an overdose. She had other issues to that made me just feel bad, it was all medical type shit, nothing that was her fault.

She arrived the day after I did and stayed in here room. It was not until Sunday that we became full-fledged friends.

When my roommate was discharged on Friday I was hoping it would be awhile before I would have another roommate and that if I did he would be just as if not more awesome than then the last. I went to my room to find a short black guy on the bed reading.  I introduced myself and quickly left to tell my new buddies that I now had another roommate. It was short lived because in the middle of the night they swapped him out for a guy who was 6’5 and did nothing but sleep. The next day at breakfast I told my friends what had happened at which they all laughed. The day was spent mostly just hanging around. There were some groups but it was mostly scheduled fun activities.

Bella, Stacy and I were thick as thieves. Because I had mentioned to my doctors about my occasional Marijuana use they put in my file that I should go to co-occurring groups which now meant I could go to all the groups if I wanted to. My hearing on Friday also said that I would only be staying up to six more days which I was ok with. I knew that going to all the groups and talking to every staff member I could, it would make that even less. Saturday around noon Rachel came in. she was intriguing and it turned out it was a botched impulsive attempt at suicide. She soon regretted it but her husband insisted she go get help.

Along with Rachael I met John. He was a diabetic with only one leg and a good amount of his fingers missing. His story was so said that I will not share it but let’s just say he needs a divorce.

Later that day I found out that the guy who was removed from my room was James and that he knew my friend Stacy, small world. I quickly enjoyed the fact that I did not go to Delco, at least I would not bump into anyone that I knew. James joined our group even though he was in for anger it was soon discovered that he was just in a bad situation at the wrong time.

The weekend for the most part was fun, there was Karaoke which made Rachael a star and then Tanya, a little Asian woman who not only enjoyed rap but was good at it. There was almost never a dull moment.

Bella was in because of her mother fabricated a story about here trying to kill herself on multiple occasions. When Bella read here 302 paper work to us it made her mother sound far worse than we had imagined.

Sunday during our time in the court yard the activities director came up to me and we began to have a very deep conversation and at the heart of it was MeTo. I poured out my heart to here and let here have all the gory details. I really liked this woman and felt safe around her, the whole time I was there I would chat and she would even open up about her own life to me.  It was then that after a week of not hearing from MeTo that I had to accept the fact that things were over and that he no longer cared for me the way I cared for him. She never advised but asked questions to help me come to the conclusion that I would just have to cut him out of my life. I knew I did not want to do it right away which she agreed was a good idea.

 Monday came and I had had enough, everyone was getting discharged or knew when they were getting discharged. I was taking meds and went to every group and now they were repeating. I clamed up and went to my room. While lying on my bed and watching the rain hit the glass block window my psychologist came in and asked how I was doing, he then told me he would try to get me out Tuesday. The news made my day.

Stacy was not getting discharged until Friday and Bella might have to stay the maximum 20 days. We exchanged numbers and prepared for the moment when we all would be separated. James was leaving that day and so we made sure that we had a way to keep in touch.

Tuesday came and I acted like a king, I did what I wanted and was so giddy and happy that they had no choice but to let me go. My mother came to pick me up right at lunch time and I realized how bitter sweet it all was.

Here I made several new friends and some of them I had to accept the fact that I just might not ever see or hear from them again. They served their purpose in my life and I had to move on.  A part of me wanted to cry but another part wanted to just scream and never look back. When all was said and done and I saw the sun on the other side I ran for it screaming, “I’m Free!” in honesty I was free of MCS but my battle with depression was still going on and about to get a little harder. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life Part 3 “On The Inside.”

My first night I was nervous but I found people I could get along with. The next day I wanted to sleep late but I had to get blood drawn. I went back to bed only to be awakened by a loud woman telling my roommate and me it was time for breakfast. I grabbed want looked to be the fixings for a “Make your own” breakfast sandwich. I was not given any meat because it was pork and I have an allergy. It was so damn bad that I wanted to hurl. But there was yogurt and fruit.

As I munched on my apple, which would be my main source of sustenance, an odd woman came up and said she could not see me. Now this is time for a back story.  The night of my arrival and once semi-settled I had to ask the nurses’ station a question, I was directed there for some odd reason, it could have been for that MRI or EKG. All I remember is that it was a test it and it had letters and I was told to ask for it. A man walked out of the station and I said excuse me, he looked my way then went back in. I looked to the man next to me and asked, “Can you see me?” he replied, “Oh Yeah I can see you.” He was visiting a patient who would turn out to be the funniest story I have had the pleasure of hearing.  Later when I went to watch TV in the activities room the guy who I shall call Mike made a joke about wind coming in but not seeing the source. He then explained to me and everyone present that it was his father who I asked about my sudden invisibility.

So back to breakfast, this was about the third time I heard the joke and all I could do was smile and rush through the apple. Each time she would see me it was followed up with, “That’s just to funny.” She was quick to recognize my cool awesomeness, I assumed she was not all gone or all bad but I was going to get to know this person a lot better than I maybe would like to.  I began going to groups and but when the co-occurring recovery groups were taking place I had nothing to do. So I found a book at the nurses’ station and my roommate gave me a book. Both thick, both written for adults who ENJOY reading.  I tried to read but soon found that I wanted to sit and try to write. I sat for about an hour on Wednesday just getting to know my roommate and that’s when the question was asked, “So why are you here?” without hesitation I retorted, “Attempted Suicide.” We went back and forth until he got the whole story and I used gender neutrals when referring to my ex and he soon got the picture. He was still shocked that I would even think about it.

Many people asked the question of what lead to my 302 and they all gave the shocked look to my answer. I was determined to make the best of this situation. I hated depression and I did not want to deal with it any more. If I could not kill myself then I had to take advantage of government programs that make it so that such people as me would not want to do what I had planned.

I smiled at everyone and talked to all the nurses and staff and my case worker was the best. She found it easy to relate to me and listened. I found her to be the easiest person to talk to. She really seemed like she wanted to understand ME not the why’s or how’s but how I felt and what I thought and how she could help me, unlike my doctors on the other hand.

So there was my Therapist and there was my psychologist. My psychologist refused to make eye contact and spoke softly, this was such a shock to me that after he gave his sepal about who he was and blab bla bla I blurted out, “What?”  To prevent myself from laughing. He however was a good looking man, his demeanor was just a turnoff, so I could see why there was no ring. After maybe five minutes if not less I was sent on my way. I did not get much done in the way of groups on Wednesday because every time I got into something I was called into another short meeting where they either picked my brain, got a statement about why I was there or to poke me for some other physical reason.  One guy (a nurse practitioner) gave me a physical and asked if I had enough at breakfast, I wanted to say, “As much as I could stand,” but I simply said plenty. He then said it sounded like I didn’t eat enough, and he was right.

My therapist, I like to refer to as the Happy Lumberjack. He wore plaid, a tie and jeans, and it was all well-coordinated, eh hmm. He had a soft and pleasant speaking voice and all I could do to keep from laughing was smile and node. He would open with, “How are you feeling today?  What do you want to talk about, what would YOU like to discuss. “He was so fucking cute with his Mister Rogers voice I had to think about weather I wanted to huge him or deck him.

In my first meeting we discussed MeTo. I was devastated when I checked my voice mail and did not hear from him. I was so hurt I was doing everything in my power not to think or talk about it. I could not understand how you can tell someone you love them more than anything and that they will have your heart forever and when they tell you they are going to kill themselves you do nothing. I let it all go on my lumber jack therapist. He helped me to realize that surprising how I feel towards someone is not good. It is ok to want to punch someone in the face and relish in the thought. You have to keep it in thought, accept how you feel, deal with it in thought and then move one. I felt so much better that, that night I dreamt about kicking MeTo’s ass, I relished in the dream, woke up and let it go.

Night time was the worse; there was nothing to do so I took a shower. My Mother could not get clothes to me until Thursday and my sister was going to bring them. I checked my voice mail and still nothing from MeTo or my so called “Best” friends. Bombshell had called me and was clearly worried so I got her number from my mother and left her a voicemail telling her I was ok and getting help. I also got the number for a friend of mine from jersey, only to find out that you could not make out of state calls, so I could not reach out to MeTo even if I wanted to.

I woke up Thursday in full swing of things I had set a reputation and found out who the cool kids were; I survived high school once I could do it again. There were your cliques, there were the cool kids, suicides and drug over doses, the cheerleaders – attempted suicides who thought ALL people are fucked up so they try to be friends with everyone, the want to be cool kids – people with more than one issue but are in such denial they are hard to help, the loners the anger issues  and really mentally damaged, and the staff. I was always a cool kid and it was not long before the cool kids started talking to me and about me in positive ways.

There was mike, he was in because he mixed his medications up and started seeing aliens. Dirk my roommate who OD’d on heroin by accident. Troy who simply pissed off the wrong people with the right connections and Samantha a heavyset girl who was in for an OD but was so funny and strong you ONLY wanted to be her friend or you simply hopped she didn’t notice you. I kind of stunk with them most of Thursday until I met Anastasia. She was quiet and I went to sit next to her and we started talking and formed our own little twosome until later that day I met Stacy. She was only an inch shorter than me. I had noticed her before but she was quiet and had a distant look on her face. But she opened up to us and just like in high school I had my own little clique. We talked and giggled at the fact that while most people were way older than us everything you need to survive in a place like this you learned in high school. We all went to the same groups together; watched TV together and eventually started taking smoke breaks together.  ALL the original cool kids were discharged on Friday and so it was my group and the cheerleaders.

The night before the woman who kept the invisibility joke going pushed me to the limit and I had to curse her out. She stopped talking to me for two days; ah I wish it had lasted longer. 

The Darkest Chapter of My Life - Part 2

I would go to work and on my way home I would, get sleeping pills and a bottle of vodka. Once I got home I would tidy my room give myself a facial and get hammered on the vodka. I would eat a little then swallow the entire box of sleeping pills.

I went to work as I had planned and I was excited about my plan, I was looking forward to 5 o’clock when I got off and could home to end the pain forever. I was at work for all of two hours when I had to answer the phone, the person asked for Victor Bethea, it as a man then I heard the unmistakable voice of my mother. “Do you know what I went through this morning?” I knew it my plan was foiled. I told her not to come to my and she said ok, I knew that meant she was already on her way.

I had no idea how to handle this, do I run, where do I run to? I asked to go on a ten and I went to buy the sleeping pills. I came back still panicky. I decided that when I saw my mother I would run out the back and hide or take the bus home or something that I did not know, all I knew was that I would find a way to get away from her.

My plan was foiled yet again because my coworker told me she hated being on the register and so I jumped on and in the midst of taking orders and failed to know the passing of time or the fact that my mother had jumped in line. My heart sank as I saw the expression of, “I GOT YOU!” on her face. It was a look of relief and joy mixed with hurt.  I had never seen it before but I recognized it immediately and my heart screamed and cried.  I wanted to hit the floor and let my emotions poor out but I could not because something else within me cranked the spigot to the faucet tight and would not let any emotions of any kind out.

My mother demanded that I go and speak with her. I could see fear, the kind that she was afraid of what I might do, but I also saw the strength in her that she could handle whatever I could dish out and then some. So I reluctantly complied and I tried to rationalize my decision which still after all I just saw seemed like a good idea. When pleading and trying to get me to see the mistake I was making did not work, her friend came to speak with me and then the her pastor who made me want to do nothing more than get away and so I did.

Everyone else handled themselves well but the pastor caused a scene and I was embarrassed. I wanted him to go away and my boss was trying to understand what was going on and do here job of getting control of the situation and the pastor just clammed up and repeated, “I want to talk to the STORE manager.” And after the assistant manager was not enough I was asked if I wanted to take this to a more private location and as my mother chased me she called the police so that I could be 302’d. Once the police arrived, I was asked all kinds of questions as to my plan and why.

The pills were found and my fate was sealed. I was going to be taken to Norristown hospital. My mother wanted to take me to some place in DelCo but the pastor insisted that I be taken by the police. I was willing to go to DelCo, HELL I know DelCo I did not know Montgomery County.

Handcuffed, I was escorted out of the store and placed in a police vehicle where a motor brigade of my mother, another cop car and my mother’s pastor took me to a place for people like me. On the way I tried to snap myself out of it by talking to the cop. No lie this guy was hot. I asked him where he was from and I immediately knew why, he looked like the more butch version of J.R. he was nice a guy though and the conversation flowed naturally.

Once I arrived they took everything from me. My bag, cell phone, wallet, all I had on was the clothes on my back. After waiting for what seemed like hours we got to talk to the doctor. He was HUGE a big fat guy who sat down and I was stunned he could fit in the chair I did my best not to let what was going on in my head to show on my face. He decided that I needed to be “admitted” I heard “committed” but potato, tomato.   

We were offered juice as we waited further and it was undrinkable, I wanted to say something but mother advised agents it.  I began joking and felt better and took a shot of asking my mother if she would reconsider but she said this was something I needed, I felt for her I knew this was hard but she was making it look easy. This is a woman who I have no doubts would lay down here life for me if it meant I could just live minutes longer. Would circle the world to save me and stop at nothing to and sacrifice everything to ensure my welfare. Here she was allowing me to be locked up in a place where she could not come and see me every day, or talk to me every day, just so I could get the help I needed. She was logical and rational, but the love was POWERFUL to the point I could not argue with her.

She eventually had to leave and I felt like crying again. My mouth said I understand and I was well aware of here other obligations and the fact she had to tell my sister what happened but a huge part of me wanted, “My Mommy.”

With the strange guy in the lobby, the bad orange juice and the fact that I could not have my cell phone, I wondered how anyone was prevented from really going insane. I figured hey I have 10 bucks my mom will bring me more and there is a coke machine, can’t be that bad.

I had to go through triage and relinquish my belt and all jewelry except my watch, I told them the studs in my second holes were new and might close. I needed a little bling. I then had to talk to a nurse about what happened, I then ate turkey, yogurt, and carrots and washed it down with apple juice that came from one of those little cartons you get in grade school at lunch time. I wondered where the green was but considering this was hospital food and the turkey tasted like real turkey and needed no salt I could deal.

Then an MRI then I had to talk to the activities coordinator and sign paper work, then I met with my first contact person, then I made my room and then I was alone. I prayed that my roommate was someone cool, cute, and if possible gay AND a top. He however was only two out of three and that’s far from bad. He told me about how things worked and that it beats prison, Yup my roommate was an ex con with the sexiest eyes that you ever did see. He was in sales and with eyes like that it was no wonder he did well. He was in for a heroin overdose and he parents thought it was intentional. I would soon find out that in a place like this the only people who really get along with one another are Attempted Suicide cases and Drug over doses.  It was going to be a long however long they planned on keeping me.