| My Trip to the Hospital |
[May. 31st, 2005|07:05 pm] |
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Two days ago I admitted myself to the hospital. I left the house in the morning, around 10:30 or so, and went to the hospital where my mom works. I didnt know where to go to admit myself, so I went to her. She took me down to get admitted and stayed as long as she could before she had to go back to work. Some lady assessed me and decided that I should indeed be in the hospital. My mom was called back down and my mom, my stepdad and me went to the ER to admit me (it was Sunday so the general admitting office or whatever was closed. Once I was admitted, my mom returned to work again and my stepdad came with me and the lady to escort me over to the mental health building. They didnt have any open rooms in the adolescent or adult ward so I was put into a room on the senior ward. I watched the old people walk around while they finished admitting me and I watched some TV in the common area. My stepdad finally had to leave me and they showed me my room and I met my room mate, an Indian woman named Geetha who actually seemed to be the second youngest person in the ward (me now being the youngest). After watching some more TV it started to hit me where I was and how alone I was. I could barely hold in the tears and managed to get to my room before actually breaking down. When my mom came to visit right after she got off work I pleaded with her to take me home. We called the doctor and he said he couldnt really let me go because I had told the nurse I didnt feel I was safe with myself. So I had to stay. I cried and cried and cried. My mom had to leave when the first set of visiting hours ended and I went back to my room to cry some more and eventually fell asleep. Mom came back later and brought me some McDonalds. I still cried and begged her to take me home, but she couldnt. I cried myself to sleep and woke up late. I ate their lousy breakfast and waited until the doctor came to assess me again and finally let me go home. But I couldnt go yet. I had to wait for my mom to get off work again. So I slept until she came.
That was yesterday. It was so good to get back home. Its not that the hospital was so horrible, it was just I was so alone there. I was away from my family and had nothing to do and was just left with my thoughts. Basically I left all the distraction of video games and computer and television to leave myself wide open for all the pain to do whatever it wanted with me. And all I could do was cry.
I didnt cut yesterday. And I told Mom where the rest of my razors are, so I couldnt really cut if I wanted to. I guess I could use scizors... or a knife... but I would rather not have to put much effort into making myself bleed. And I know scizors and knives arent as sharp. I would have to push harder. So I'm quitting cutting. Not gonna be naive and say I will never cut again, but at least I dont want to cut anymore. Not right now at least.
Anyway, it was an experience I wont forget. Thinking of writing a piece on it. Needed some inspiration anyway. Maybe I'll go do that. |
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