alltheavenueslookugly

i walked into my psychiatrist’s office around 7 a.m. and i was bleeding from my forehead. (self-harm)

it was early, and the only other people in the office was a couple with their child. the little girl stared at me as i walked by and i heard her tell her mom that i had lots of tattoos and a bloody face. it was the only time that day that i was able to smile a little.

my doctor still hadn’t called me back, and i wanted to know why. i asked the lady at the front. she had no idea. i didn’t expect her to, although i wish she had known. but maybe i don’t. she asked if i wanted to see him, and that his 7:30 a.m. patient had cancelled. i told her i didn’t know. i was mad at him. i had felt dismissed the night before, and the one person i should have felt comfortable calling and telling them i wanted to end my life had cut our conversation short because i had woken him up from sleeping. i left the office, and went down to the front steps of the building where i smoked and wrote in my journal and tried not to look at the stares i was getting from the strangers who were arriving at work.

my phone rang and it was the nurse, telling me he wanted to see me and to please come up.

i told her okay.

i went upstairs, sat in the now empty office and took a klonopin.

he opened the door. his hair looked like shit. i had never seen him looking messy.

‘come in, sean.’

i sat down on his couch. the same one i had sat on numerous times over the past few years.

‘i had a break in my schedule, i was going to call you. but i suppose it is better to see you in person.’

‘you didn’t call me back.’

and then i broke down. crying. fucking bawling. it was the last straw. i have been such a mess. no sleep, paranoia, manic episodes that scared the shit out of me, the worst depression i had ever felt where i swear there could be no such way to crawl back out of it. in my mind i was scaring away those who cared about me, and those that i hadn’t happened to scare away…well, it wouldn’t be long. the point made no sense. i am – or was – a blubbering weepy fucking mess.

‘sean, i have to ask if you were serious last night.’

‘i know,’ i said.

‘and were you?’

i nodded.

‘just so i am clear, you’ve had thoughts of ending your life? you were having them last night? you had something of a plan?’

‘yes. yes. yes.’ i was crying harder now.

‘sean, we need to admit you.’

‘i know,’ i said.

i looked at him, and i begged him not to send me to austin state. i would go anywhere else. please please not there.

‘where all have you been?’

through my tears and snot i was able to name off the list of psych hospitals i had been in.

‘okay,’ he said. ‘there’s a neuro clinic. it’s in the med center. i think it would be good for you.’

i nodded. as long as it wasn’t austin state, i didn’t care.

‘i can’t miss too much work though,’ i said.

i was still crying.

‘sean, you’re not going to be much use to work if you are dead. you know that, right?’

he had a point.

i nodded my head.

‘come on,’ he said, helping me off the couch. ‘i’m going to have you sit in here with ****** and she’ll call the clinic and tell them you are coming in.’

and then he called ********* to come pick me up.

‘sean, i’m trusting you here. if i let ********* take you, you’ll go right to the hospital, correct?’

i told him i would.

we made one stop at my house. i wanted to get my toothbrush and hug my dog.

and then i was ready.

~ by alltheavenueslookugly on 2012/09/28.

Posted in september
Tags: crying, depression, medications, posts about suicide, psychiatric hospital