All the times I've had panic attacks, bad thoughts, etc. Basically all that shitty stuff. Warning: mentions of self harm, negative thoughts, and generally just depressing shit.
Updates will happen whenever as I write when stuff happens to me becaus...
I don't remember much. I woke up in the hospital and sat confused for about five minutes before I spoke. At first I didn't remember anything. And then I saw my arm. The cuts. The words. The pills. It didn't come rushing back like it says it does in books. It came back in bits and pieces. I saw the faded cuts in the form of the words "fuck up" with a bunch of lines next to it. An image flashed through my head of those exact same cuts but they were fresh and bleeding. I got dizzy. I looked up and saw my mom sitting on the small couch next to my hospital bed. I asked her what happened. She stared at me for a few seconds before she answered. "You don't remember?" "No the last thing I remember is..." I thought long and hard but I couldn't bring any one memory as my last. The best I could do was sitting on my beanbag on my phone but that's what most of my time was spent like. I asked again and this time I got an answer. "You swallowed a bunch of pills. Clonidines to be exact and 111 to be more exact." I stared at her. I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't have. But I knew in the back of my head that I could have and probably did. That's why I had them after all. I sat shocked. The rest of my time in the picu (pediatric intensive care unit) was mostly a blur but I remember my friends and my sister and brother in law visited me. About a day after I woke up, I was switched to a different building. I wasn't expecting what I got. I thought it would be like the picu with my phone and my mom and a tv but I was wrong. This was a residential therapeutic treatment place for adolescence with major issues. My mom wouldn't be staying and I wouldn't have my phone. No contact with the outside world. I couldn't handle that. My mom was allowed to visit and during one of the visits she told me how worried my friends were. One of them even made her dad drive her to the hospital to see me. That was during the 5 days that I was in the picu that I couldn't remember. No matter how hard I try I can't remember them at all. Upon hearing this, I felt my heart quicken and tears pricked my eyes. I worried them. All of them. I never really thought of how many friends I had until I thought of how many people might be worried about me. The list stretched on and on. Rachel, Hadar, Naomi, Hannah, Ari, Aaron, Jeremy, Sarah-leah, Nellie, and those are just my friends that I see in real life. I didn't even bother counting all the people I had met on the internet. Gee, Nova, Shyann, Kalea, Helena, Ace, and so many more. They all flashed through my head in a blur, faces for the ones I had seen, usernames and text conversations for the ones I hadn't. I almost broke down right then and there. Eventually my mom left and I was on my own again. I was scared. Some of the people there were very nice and normal and were there for either the same reason as me, which was suicide, or a similar reason. Others were not. Some of them were disturbing to watch. One girl named Julia would just walk the halls saying she was sorry and she didn't mean to and she wasn't psychic. She wasn't talking to anyone she just talked. Another girl walked around with her eyes closed and had to have two nurses follow her at all times. I never learned her name as she stayed in her room mostly. The scariest though was a girl named Priscilla. She had a very light voice and she also wandered the halls a lot. She was there because she "talked to god and god talked to her." My first day there I didn't know and she asked me to be her friend. I said yes but just as I did use said she couldn't have friends. That should have been my first sign. I didn't want to be rude so I said that everyone deserves a friend and I went to my room like I was supposed to. The next morning I witnessed just why she was there. She said it wasn't Priscilla talking anymore. She was cursing and yelling. She hit another girl. I regretted saying we could be friends. I didn't want that to happen to me. I had to get out. For the first few days there I tried the brat tactic. Act like a whiny little brat and refuse everything and they'll let you leave just to get rid of you. I should have known better. It didn't work. These were professionals who have dealt with a lot worse than me. We had a meeting with my parents and they told me that I needed to do what they said if I wanted to leave. After about my second day there I started to open up. I talked to people and started keeping to my "point sheet." The deal was if I got three consecutive days of silver status, which was 85 points, I could leave. So I did. The first person I talked to was the girl that Priscilla hit. Her name was Gianna. She was awesome. She was 13 and her hair was short and pink and poofy from having been dyed so many times in the past. She was nice and we became friends. Next was Andrew. He looked 16 but was 13. We got along pretty good in a jokey way. He threw cups at my face and I flicked them back. We both got in trouble but we weren't mad. It was fun. Next was my roommate, Alexandra. She was there for the same reason as me so she was relatively normal and sane. She showed up in a steven universe shirt and that's how we became friends. For the first few days of living together, we didn't talk, but when I complimented her shirt, she opened up and we started talking. Those were the three I talked to the most. I also received one of the best compliments while I was there. A girl named Tiawwana (probably spelled incorrectly) said I had a nice smile and I was cute after I laughed at something someone said. I was shocked. I expected most of them to be reclusive and rude but these were some of the best people I'd ever met. And they all had problems like me. On one of my first days there, I saw the scars on Andrews arm yet if you looked at his face he was laughing at a joke someone had just told. Gianna had an episode where she wandered the halls trying to choke herself and looked like she was lost in a pit if sadness, yet a day later was reassuring me and being very positive when I confided that I was scared I wouldn't get out of there. I overheard a therapist talking to Alexandra in the hall about why she overdosed and two days later we were joking about how stupid the Dursleys are from Harry Potter. I was getting better but I still cried at night. I didn't cry because I was sad though. I cried because I thought of all I had almost lost. I cried over my friends and family, my future, the pain and worry I had caused. I even cried over small trivial things I would have missed like my favorite Youtubers new video or my favorite anime. It didn't matter. No matter how small, I realized that anything is worth living for if it makes you happy. I tried my hardest to keep that attitude and soon I had three days of silver status. I got worried a few times because they kept pushing back my release date and I started getting anxious I wouldn't be out in time for my holidays. There were no discharges on weekends so they said Monday. Then Tuesday. Then Wednesday. By Tuesday evening, I was crying because if I wasn't out by Wednesday morning, I would be stuck there until the following Monday again. Thankfully I was out by Wednesday morning. I walked out and breathed in the fresh air. I was free. And I had a lot of apologies to make.
10/4/17
An: And I'm still making them. Hello. I know that a lot of people have read this and even if you never commented or voted or made yourself known in any way, I want to say thank you and I want you to know that even though I don't know you I love you very much. I hope that anyone going through something similar will take this book as a lesson that things can and will get better. I hope this is the last chapter I will ever upload as now that I've gotten proper treatment I hope that I'll never have to deal with depression and anxiety and all that ever again. I can't say for certain and I might upload again if things go wrong, but for now I'm happy that I've gotten the proper treatment. I hope anyone reading this going through something similar can also get the proper treatment, and that can and should change depending on who you are and what you're dealing with so please don't just randomly check yourself into any rehab center you see. Talk to someone and do research and find out what's best for you. To be honest, it wasn't even the rehab center that helped me. It was the knowledge of all that I almost left behind and all the pain I had caused to those I care about and that care about me. If you don't feel comfortable talking to someone irl there are many online sources that can help and if you want to message me even, you can do that. Also please know that it's ok to not feel ok sometimes. Please don't invalidate yourself. You're human and humans have emotions. It's normal. I really hope I don't have to update ever again and I hope this could help you dear reader in some way. Whether you realized your own problems and got help or just took comfort in knowing you're not alone. Goodbye, stay safe and know that someone always loves you.
Photo of my cuts September 20th:
Photo of my cuts October 5th:
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