Have you ever wanted to escape this world and simply die or get away from it? Yeah, that's how I feel at times. I don't know what to do about it. I need to see a therapist or something. I'm on medication, but that doesn't feel like it's doing enough for me. So I have to figure out...something to do about it all. I don't know though. It scares me. I'm more than scared, if I had the ability to understand what was going on in life, then I could do that. But I can't and that simply seems that life is going to blow up at me in any second now. I wish I could overcome these thoughts and simply make sense of it. Whatever happens, I need reality to be real. Does that make sense? I'm not sure it does. I doubt anything ever makes sense to me anymore. But that's okay. It'll be okay in the end, whenever that will be. If it's not the end, it's not okay yet now is it? No, I didn't think so.
So, not everyone can say they’ve stayed a week, let alone two, in the Behavioral Health unit of a hospital. That’s the place you go when you’re having suicidal thoughts and possible actions.
I never thought I would have done that myself, but well there I was sitting in the ER having blood drawn and questions asked of me. How did I get to this place in my life, am I using drugs etc.
The room I was in initially was void of any electrical equipment. Literally anything I could have used to harm myself had been removed from the room. A security guard was waiting outside the door in case I decided to bolt and make a run for it, or something. Basically he was there to keep me safe.
They made me put on a yellow hospital gown, which didn’t have any strings. You’ll get used to the no strings at all thing in a moment. You couldn’t have any strings at all. Shoelaces were removed, any strings in PJs or Sweat Pants were cut out, belts were taken away. Any possible chance of hanging yourself was out of the question.
After talking with a social worker and letting them know I was admitting myself, I waited for what seemed like an eternity. I simply waited for a room to be made ready upstairs on the third floor.
Once a room was made ready, I was taken to that third floor via an elevator only staff had access to. It was a short elevator ride, that wasn’t so bad.
Once I got up to the third floor, more questions were asked. Some were duplicates from the ones downstairs. Nope, still don’t smoke, thanks for asking.
As they were asking me these questions, they went through my belongings I brought to make sure I didn’t include something which could be considered a weapon. They put my clothes in my room.
After the questions, I was taken to my room and was asked to disrobe in front of two nurses. So naked I got. They made sure I didn’t have any bruises anywhere etc. that my skin was devoid of any kind of abuse, which it was.
As it was late in the night, I went to bed, this was my second journey to the psych unit…I slept good that night. I was safe, felt safe, nothing could get to me. It was a nice feeling.
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