When I Admitted Myself to the ER for Near Suicide Attempt

2021 did not start off great for me to be honest. It started with a trip to the ER which then meant I got sent to a mental health facility. (TRIGGER WARNING)

I admitted myself because I saw how scared my friends and family were. The night before (January 2nd), I looked up how many of each of my pills I had to take to OD. I had a plan to just get the "job done" by taking all of them at once. Something made me text my friend in the other room and she came in and stopped me (God intervening). It was a traumatic night. I had been on the edge of a cliff before, but I had never taken one foot off like that. My friends stayed in there with me for the rest of the night. When we got back to Indiana the next day, I fed myself and then got driven to the ER by two of my friends. Oh yeah, did I mention that in the midst of all this I was having a great time in Atlanta with some of my best friends? Why did this happen now? Satan was using every opportunity to tell me I was unloved and alone.

When we got to the ER, my friend took me in. The nurse asked what I was there for, and I couldn't even say the words. "I am not in a good place mentally." That was the best I could do at the time. The next few hours (more like 12 hours) were a bit of a blur but I will do the best I can to share what I experienced because I want people to know it is OKAY TO GET HELP AND PLEASE DO. 

My friend of course had to leave me because of COVID restrictions so I gave her a hug goodbye and started sobbing. I had no idea when I would see a familiar face again and Satan was telling me never. I then got my vitals checked and went through all of the fun stuff of being admitted. I changed into paper scrubs and was sent to a room by myself where I would stay by myself for the next few hours. Then, what seemed like getting checked on only every hour instead of every 15 minutes. That seemed kind of strange to me... I was evaluated which led into me of course having to be in patient because I still was not okay mentally in that moment. I was still suicidal and could not focus on anything else but the fact that I no longer wanted to be on this earth and I believed everyone else would be better off without me (FALSE). 

Though it felt like I was not getting checked on as much as I should be, I had really nice nurses when I did. They were very kind to me and seemed very sympathetic towards me while I was in the ER. I was thankful for that at least. I was thankful that I at least was also able to have my phone still up to this point but I really wish I would have charged it. Around 4 something in the morning, I was told that I was getting transferred an hour away to a mental health facility. I would be taken by ambulance (my first ride...) and would then be there until a doctor thought I was okay to go home. Immediately, I wanted to run, but I didn't. I just froze. Once the EMTs got there, they strapped me down on the gurney and made the comment that they did not want me running away. The last thing I remember is the nurse saying, "Oh you don't have to worry about this one, she is so sweet and has been so good. Honey, I hope you get the help you need and I am so sorry you are going through all of this." Which of course made me cry. I cried the whole way there. I was a mess to put it lightly. 

Once we finally got to the place, the EMTs accidentally unloaded me to the wrong door which made me finally chuckle a little. But when we got inside, I was basically taken off the gurney and my bag of stuff was given to me where I had to eventually change into everything I was allowed to have (no strings, etc. basically anything in this world you could somehow hurt yourself with). Then, I had to write down any numbers I would need that I did not have memorized while I was there because my phone and everything else would be taken away. I was terrified. I had to fill out a bunch of forms and then it seemed like I was led down 1,000 hallways. I was taken to a room with a chair and a rubber bed, if you can even call it that... bars on the windows that you couldn't see out of, I had to again pee in a cup, was questioned, and then FINALLY taken to a room after what seemed to be over an hour of crying, sweating, panicking in this prison room. 

When I got to the room, I saw my roommate and instantly got even more scared. I was thinking that some random person I didn't know, that was also suicidal, I now had to share a room with... I started bawling and did not stop for hours. I barely ate anything or drank anything all day. I was dehydrated, I felt absolutely terrible mentally and physically. I was truly scared of everyone in there. I had written a number down incorrectly and did not have my best friend's number so I begged the nurses to get it off my ER papers. I finally got it and called her sobbing and told her and pretty much everyone else that I was going to leave AMA (against medical advice). I was ready to run. Bad. But I didn't. I stuck it out. It didn't stop me from trying a few more times with staff members. One of them finally got through to me. I ended up getting close with a few of them actually. 

I decided in that moment to fight. I got my Bible (bookmark cut off), clean clothes, and finally started eating. I audibly heard God say in that moment, "hold on to Me THROUGH this darkness." He wasn't saying it was going to go away, but He was saying that He was going to be with me through it (more will be written about this later). Y'all, it was 100% God and your prayers that got me through the next 72 hours. I arrived there on a Monday morning and somehow was okay to leave Wednesday afternoon. No one does that. You helped.

I actually made friends, I wasn't terrified of everyone anymore, I was ready to LIVE. But, I was ready to live outside of that place. I wanted to get back and have snuggles from my niece and nephews. I wanted to hug my momma so tight. I was ready to attack my roommates when I got home. I was ready to finally get the healing I NEEDED and DESERVED. Those days were not easy. Let me tell you... Being checked on every 15 minutes to make sure you are still breathing, getting woke up at 5 am to get your blood drawn, hearing scary stories, feeling completely hopeless, etc. All this to say that I truly only made it through that darkness because of God. 

I missed my whole first week of student teaching, and then some. I was scared to try and get back in a routine. When I got discharged, one of my good friends came and picked me up, I had to get my meds and then we left and finally I GOT TO GO HOME! I got my phone back and it had blown up. It was overwhelming... and it was too much too fast. So, a friend encouraged me to take a 30 day social media fast. That was a great decision. Those that needed to know what was going on, knew. I remember returning to school the day I did and only my teacher and one other person knew. I did not plan on telling anyone else. It wasn't their business. But it was hard for me to feel like I wasn't supposed to share my story... So, I am doing that now. Because I believe that even if my story helps one person, then I lived it for a reason. My story is important just like yours is. 

Since then, I have switched meds like crazy, started exercising more, eating healthier, taking care of myself, etc. It has been a hard few months, but I feel like I finally started truly healing because I finally started letting God take the lead. I have finally surrendered to God and let Him take control. I am finally embracing all that healing has to offer, even the mess that comes with it. It is SO freeing. Also, my new therapist has been phenomenal through it all and let me tell you, she is amazing. EMDR and prayer have been my new best friends.

Please, get help if you think you need it. I will drive you there if you need it. People love and care about you more than you know, sometimes they just forget to show it. Please do not end your life. Please reach out, call. You are loved more than you could ever know and I just wish you could fully comprehend that...

You will get THROUGH this. We will get THROUGH this. 

#NoFear 

This is my story from the beginning of 2021 it’s not beautifully written, it was really hard to write, but I’ve learned that part of my healing is getting it out there and letting it go. I’m not ashamed of where I’ve come from because shame isn’t from God. He’s given me this story to help others so I will be vulnerable no matter the cost. I gave myself 2 months. During that two months, God has healed parts of my body and mind I never thought would get healing and it’s been so refreshing. It’s also been so rewarding, but I’m not stopping there. 2 months ago today, my plan was to OD. Now, I can’t imagine if I would have done that. The last 2 months and the freedom I’ve felt have been so releasing and I couldn’t imagine never getting to experience that.

Reminder: you are so so loved and it’s okay to get help.