Welcome to the Family

Update on Updates & Mental Health

Trigger warning: below mentions suicide

Hey guys. I meant to update sooner than this, but I've been in the hospital after an overdose. Please bear with me as I write the next chapter. It'll be two weeks tomorrow (Thursday) since I survived a suicide attempt. 

I don't want to keep my experience quiet - I have done that for too long. To be honest, I am lucky, the emergency staff said if I had taken any more pills, I'd be dead. I know that's harsh, but it's the truth. What matters most is that I am getting help now and I think that's why I wanted to reach out and tell you my story. It's important to be open and acknowledge the glitches in the mental health system. I ended up being in two hospitals before finally being admitted to a psychiatric ward. 

My mom called an ambulance, the paramedics (I can't remember much, but I do know they were cute lmao) rushed me to the emergency hospital where I was put on an IV to counteract the drugs I took. When I became stable enough, they sent me through to Halifax, where there was supposedly a bed waiting for me in the psych ward. However, when I reached the hospital, I was seated in a room and waited forty minutes to an hour for the psych nurse on shift to begin an evaluation (which is fine, I expected this). It was about 3:30 a.m. I was still a bit out of it, couldn't remember much from the past 48 hours, exhausted and still experiencing suicidal and self-harm urges. I expressed this to the nurse - my exact words being "I do not want to go home. I do not feel safe." 

So the nurse left, promising to be back soon, he just had to talk to the resident psychiatrist. I'd say about another hour went by when she finally came in and she asked me a bunch more questions before leaving, but she got me water and a half-frozen turkey sandwich. Yum.

It took about another hour for her to come back, as she had to discuss with her colleagues upstairs (the big wigs, who make all the decisions; such as deciding whether or not to admit me). I was still expressing that I didn't want to go home, I didn't feel safe, and would likely try to hurt myself again. 

Yet, the resident came back with news that sent me into a panic attack. She stated "admitting you into hospital is scary and I don't think its the best thing for you." Like wtf? I am basically telling her if you send me the fuck home, I'm gonna hurt myself. The woman proceeded to give me two sleeping pills, a 2-week prescription for these pills, and a taxi voucher. First of all, I just fucking overdosed on an entire bottle of sleeping pills, what makes you think it's okay to give me them? Especially an entire fucking prescription. Good thinking, really. 

Second, the taxi voucher had the wrong fucking address. I was alone. I was alone, without so much as a damn jacket, and my parents had gone home to get some rest because they had trusted I'd be in capable hands.  From the hospital to home, it's approximately an hour and a half away. My family and I live in rural Nova Scotia, the middle of nowhere, in Timbuktu, the fucking boonies. So here I am, a hyperventilating, suicidal mess, alone, and the people who were supposed to help me sent me home, with the wrong address on the voucher. There are so many 'what ifs' that could have happened here, keeping in mind my brain is foggy and I'm not stable. 

I had enough sense to call my mom, bawling on a bench outside the hospital, the time approximately 6:30 - 7:00 p.m. She drove in and my cousin came to sit with me while I waited for her. From the Halifax Hospital, we went to Truro, the only other hospital within a reasonable distance. Apparently though, you have to schedule mental crises Monday - Friday, 8 a.m. - 4:30 p.m. I went into the Truro emergency Saturday but the doctor said there was no one to see me right now, meaning I would have to wait until someone from the psychiatric unit became available to assess me or come back Monday morning. 

The doctor made me promise not to do "anything stupid" (his own words) and to wait for Monday. Thankfully, Cora, the social worker, I met on Monday afternoon (supposed to have a 9 a.m. appointment but that turned into a 11:30 appointment) was amazing. She gave my case to the psychiatrist on call and I ended up being admitted to hospital as an inpatient.