Psychiatric hospitalization year ago today

A year ago this time I was in a psychiatric hospital.

I sat there with a psychiatrist and psychiatric nurse, as well as my mom. Talking about why I was there and what should be done when I would get out.

It was my own decision to go there, no one forced me, I decided it and I needed it.

Huge trigger warning! Suicidality, mental health crisis, etc.

I am here today, much because of that night I went there.

I am here now to write about world mental health day that was almost a week ago (on Saturday).

Just imagine, without the short hospitalization, I would not probably be here. As cruel as the fact is, it is a must to write about.

Desperation

The hopelessness, suicidality, the need to escape mental pain with hurting myself physically, thoughts of killing myself, not being able to cry anymore, having no emotions, the constant need to be alone.

Those were the things I had in my mind all the time. Constantly.

Driving off the cliff, driving towards a wall, jumping off a cliff. Just doing something to escape the darkness inside of me.

I did not see light at the end of the tunnel.

I could not think how everyone else would have felt if I did what was in my mind.

But something inside of me told me that those thoughts were not normal. Something told me to seek help. Immediately. Middle of the night.

Emergency room

I sat there, in the ER, all the meds in my bag, scissors in my bag, anything with what I could keep hurting myself while waiting to see a doctor.

I was put to a normal ER, no one cared that I was there to see a psychiatric doctor. 

I was put to wait for 6 hours, no one checked my bag, no one realized that I could have done something to myself while waiting to get seen by a doctor.

When I finally saw a psychiatric doctor, I was immediately taken seriously. I was so tired of everything, that I just told everything that happened almost 10 years ago. It was the first time telling it all. I was so numb that I could not even cry. I was so numb that I just showed my arm full of scars, told them what I did while waiting to be seen in the hospital. I told them I was so tired of everything, I just wanted to get out, get away, escape reality.

As I sat there, I was ready to get hospitalized, and I did. As a suicidal person.

Psychiatric unit

I remember everything that happened. Almost.

I remember I did not want to get up to eat, how I was forced to eat something. I remember they took all my meds, all sharp items away from me.

I remember telling the staff I want something else than only meds. How I got a panic attack and they gave me tips to get rid of it without meds. How they calmed me down while I had the attack going on.

I remember my mom and dad visiting me.

I remember my sister calling me to do school stuff with her, and me telling her I was in the hospital. In a psychiatric hospital.

I remember my dad constantly telling me that everything would be alright.

I remember my mom asking me questions about how I got there, and why.

I remember telling her everything by text message because I could not say it all face to face.

I remember how desperate I was.

How I went there like a zombie because I had not slept for days.

And I remember how I got better day by day.

Back to home

I remember my mom coming to pick me up and take me home.

I remember hugging my mom, and my cat, and everyone around me.

I remember the feeling to be happy to be alive, but at the same time still feeling a bit numb.

I remember how glad I was to seek help and receive help.

How thankful I was for all the staff in the hospital. 

And now, a year later, I can say that I am happy to be alive.