There were many things I can recall at the time that put me in this state of mind. One was my "best friend," Sheala, who threw me out like a piece of garbage. While pretending to still be my best friend, the rude remarks and running off with her new friends instead of me really got to me. In my mind, this was all my fault; obviously I did something wrong.
Another turn of events that pushed me over the edge was my dear friend, Micheal Ridgway. I'm not going to go into detail on what happened and why we drifted, but he told me he needed his space from me and didn't think we should be friends anymore. Soon after he told me that, he would ignore every text message or phone call I would send his way. I don't know which one hurts more, having a long-time friend tell you they don't want to speak to you, or having a supposed best friend ignore you and not tell you why. I couldn't decide at the time, but all I knew is that I was losing my friends one at a time and it was all my fault. Less and less love was coming my way. I wasn't giving myself any love either and, well, the world is a very lonely place without any love in it.
There is no need to blame others for the way I had felt. It is no one's fault but my own. At the time, I kept to myself. I would cry myself to sleep silently, but not tell anyone why. I never expressed my emotions to anyone, not even my mother. I would bottle them up and dwell on them constantly. One day in class, I decided it wasn't worth it anymore. I didn't want to deal with all the heartbreak and unhappiness. I figured there wasn't much else to look forward to, and heaven would be a whole lot better than planet Earth.
Sheala's parents were going on vacation and she was going to stay with us for a week. Sheala was raised differently than I was. She didn't have to call her parents when she wasn't coming home and she could hang out with whoever she wanted whenever she wanted. My mom was out of town on a bike trip in Europe, so I was staying at my dad's house at the time. Sheala was supposed to come home with me after school and settle in. Her parents were supposedly coming over to meet my step-mom and dad and talk about how the week was going to play out. That was the idea.
It ends up that Sheala had better things to do than to come home with me that night. She called me and told me she was taking pictures for her photography class in another part of town with her friend, Annie, whom she ditched me for constantly. I wasn't going to object, she was already there and it was her life. There was another catch. She was sending the message from her parents to mine that they were too busy packing for their trip to come to our house. I knew that wasn't going to go well with my dad, but I had no control over the situation. I hoped that he would understand.
My dad had a very explosive temper. When he came home stressed and tired, I knew this wasn't going to go well. He asked where Sheala was and I told him. He asked me if Sheala's parents were coming and I explained to him their situation. He blew up in a furious rage and I let his words tackle me like a football player. I cracked. In my unstable state, all I could think about was pulling the plug. This was the last straw for me.
In my mind, thoughts were racing. Despair was pulsing through my body. Every insult my dad was throwing me was being absorbed into what I thought was the truth. Every time I was ditched or told I wasn't good enough, that became my reality. I had most certainly had enough. I pulled out a bottle of pills and said, "I'm going to take all of these and you won't have to worry about me anymore."
That was the end of the anger. Now he was worried, frantic, and concerned. He tried to talk me out of it, but it was too late. I made up my mind that if I stayed at home that night, I would kill myself. I wasn't safe, and I needed to stay somewhere watched. I needed help more than anything, and that's what I was planning on getting. I didn't really want to die, it was more of a cry for help. My mind convinced me that my life wasn't worth living anymore.
We called Sheala to come home, but after an hour of waiting at my house, we left. She was worried, any friend would be, but we had a long night ahead of us. It broke my heart to think that I didn't matter enough for my best friend to rush home to come see me. My dad and I drove to Urgent Care in Littleton and we checked in. Seven hours we spent in that dull hospital room. There was no TV, just a bed and a chair. They put the suicide risks with the drunks, so we had a little entertainment. We listened to the nurse who was taking care of this woman who was out of-her-mind drunk. As amusing as it was to overhear this nurse talk about the most obnoxious things with this woman, I could not smile, I could not laugh. I felt nothing.
Finally, at 3 AM someone came in to evaluate me. They needed to determine if I was safe enough to go home. After a few questions, they came to the conclusion that I needed help and they sent me to Centennial Peaks, a mental hospital in Louisville. I had an ambulance ride, and had the worst nicotine fit I think I have ever experienced. I was very upset, and cigarettes were my therapy.
"Hey, can I have a cigarette before you take me inside?" I asked.
"Yeah, sure. When we get there," said the ambulance attendant.
I never got my last cigarette. Quitting cold turkey is the worst.
I was then sent to the night-time social worker, where she asked me another series of questions. By this time I was so lethargic that the entire interview was a blur. Once she was finished, she sent me off to bed. Sitting on the inch-thick, single bed mattress with my snoring roommate next to me, I went right to bed. I had finally found relief; the night was over.
That night was one I will never forget. It taught me how to stand up for myself, and how to tell people how I feel. I am now on the right medicine with the right coping skills and I am loving life. The most important thing I learned from the experience was that it is okay to ask for help, no matter what the situation is. The situation I was in made me the person I am today. That night made me become a more optimistic person. I always know that when I hit rock bottom, there is nowhere to go but up.
No comments:
Post a Comment