The second time I was sent to a mental hospital it was my choice. One of the requirements for me leaving the first hospital was that I needed a therapist so I’d been meeting with a guy through LDS services. I spoke to him and made the choice to be hospitalized. This happened after my second suicide attempt.
I don’t quite remember what made this one happen. I was depressed about money, I know that. I got home to my apartment and got into a short argument with my room mate. Then I went and downed a bunch of pills after looking up on the internet how much it would take to kill me. Then I went to my room and lay down to die. Thankfully my stomach had other ideas. I threw them all up, told my room mate what I had done, he called my sister who took me to see my therapist.
My sister drove me up to Murray, a different mental hospital than the last one, and signed me in. This experience was a lot better. It was still the same locked away situation, but I made progress with my group therapy sessions and they gave me new meds to try that worked 9 (I am still on them now).
What I remember most was this girl, we will call her Jill. She was in for suicide attempts but she had also been living on the street. Her parents kicked her out for drug abuse. She was the crazy girl this stay, where as I was the crazy one at my last hospital. She seemed to have split personality disorder and had a problem with stealing. One night she stole from a very angry girl and hid in our room , she was my room mate, and I had to talk her down and into giving the stuff back while the workers tried to calm down the angry girl. I kind of took care of her during my stay.
This was a short stay as well, maybe five days, but I made a lot of progress that time. I didn’t feel like I was in jail, I got along with everyone there, and I did as I was told.
The third time I didn’t go to the hospital, though I should have. I had a huge fight with my room mate and with my best friend. I slept at my parent’s house and three of my sisters slept over to watch me. I had told them I decided I was going to kill myself close to Halloween, so I was basically on suicide watch, though Halloween was a month off. I got tired of being watched and wanted to run away, but my sister Katie jumped onto my car and called the cops so I wouldn’t go anywhere. Finally, I was allowed to go as long as she went with me and I pulled a Britney and buzzed my hair off at a salon.
I should have gone to a hospital then, but my family helped me get under control. It was at this time when I figured out that I was filled with guilt and anger towards myself for things I had done in my past. I felt that God shouldn’t love me because of what I had done and also that I wasn’t a good person in God’s eyes because I wasn’t doing the things I should.
This was the time when I decided that I didn’t believe in God at all… and that worked for me. Not having a judgemental all seeing being in my life made it easier to LIVE. And what have a done since then? I have become mentally stable. I’ve been able to go back to things I enjoyed, like theater and writing. This was all back in 2015 and I have never felt better.
I don’t go to therapy anymore, it is too much money and my medication balances me very well, but I do remember one thing a therapist said. I needed to focus on taking care of myself, even if it seemed selfish. Because I can’t care for others, like I like to do, if I can’t take care of myself. So I make choices that make me happy. I take my meds. I spend time with family and friends. And I don’t see myself being hospitalized every again.
Next Week: Getting diagnosed with depression while serving an LDS mission.