blog my life

spilling the truth

I finally decided years later, my 8th grade year, I need help. I decided to send a text to my best friend, Isabelle. She immediately texted back saying she was going to get me help. At school the next day, she brought me to my health teacher. I trusted her the most so I opened up to her. From there, I went on with school until she asked me to visit her after lunch. She wrote me a pass and I visited her. We talked about what has been happening. All the suicide thoughts. Self harm. My eating disorder. My anxiety. Everything. After that, she sent me to the school counselor. I explained everything all over again to her. Then she made a few phone calls; to my dad, my mom, and our resource officer. She also brought my assistant principle into the situation. After my mom and dad got to the school, they explained my thoughts and my mental state. From there, I was admitted to Children's hospital. They asked many many questions about how I feel and what my thoughts are. They were recommending for me to go to a mental institution. But I didn't want to. So they asked if I could make a promise. If I had thoughts about self harm, to immediately contact my mom. Since I promised, I was able to go home.

I arrive home. Every single sharp object and medicine is taken out of my reach. Even safety scissors. I am no longer allowed to sleep by myself. I have to either have my sister sleep in my room with me or sleep in my sister's room with her. I didn't go to school the next day because I was going to therapy and a doctor for medicine.