True life, inpatient style.

[dirtyhippiegirl, BSN, RN]

Flash back. I remember staring out the window of my school bus. I've planned it for months. I will die.

My last memories are of a paramedic standing over me; he's sternal rubbing me, trying to keep me awake. Who is the president? I /know/, and I have such a snarky answer to respond with but my lips don't correspond with my brain. I have to pee.

I fall into half-awake memory -- they'll later tell me that it's liking breathing through a straw, and it's so appropriate. I can see the faint outline of an old waterpark in the background as I yank the straw from my mouth. Now I can breathe.

I'm staring stupidly at the scale in the doctor's office. How could I have lost weight? "If you go under 80 lbs, we will hospitalize you next time." The psychiatrist has a thick accent -- thick enough at first that I can't understand what he's saying. Same ole', same ole'. He's still staring at me. "I am calling the police right now." "You're what?!" "They will take you to the unit."

That vague interspersed piece of time. I'm on the adolescent unit that I'm always on. There are boys. Angry, aggressive boys. "We know what you wear at night. I've touched you." "No you don't." They do. I'm more afraid than upset. He tries to touch me. I can still hear the nurse laughing as I knee him in the nuts -- "you had that coming, didn't you?" I protected myself. They couldn't protect me.

I'm drunk. Older and drunk and sad and, dammit, I've cut myself yet again. It's different this time. Blood spilling everywhere; move my wrist and it spurts, hits the ceiling. I'm impressed but cold -- run out of hot water in the bath and the tub of blood is making me cold. It's only a few steps from the bathroom to the kitchen. Hey, when I'm dead, I won't have cost everyone in carpet cleaning.

I'm half-alive, half-breathing. I can't breathe, really, can't catch my breath. My eyesight is starting to fade. My heart is pounding in my chest. There's blood everywhere and I can't move, can't scream, can't pass out.

--

I'm fine now, although no one would have believed it fifteen years ago.

[Esme12, ASN, BSN, RN]

I am so glad you found your way....thank you for sharing your story.....((HUGS))

[Mully]

Great writing!! I loved it. Although, it is dark...

If it was an article it would have got much more attention.

Anyway, I'm thoroughly impressed.

[smoup]

Love this. Loved it when I read it back in May also. I can relate so much, only it hasn't been 15 years for me, more like 9.

[TerpGal02, ASN]

Thank you for this. It takes a huge amount of courage to bear yourself like this. I can commiserate, I have been inpt 3 times for suicidal ideations (all 3 times I was found before I could do serious harm to myself. I was lucky). I am so sorry you had such experiences as an adolescent. I think I spent my entire adolescence just trying to hold on and NOT kill myself. I am a psych nurse and I work with inpt adolescents now. Thankfully the abuse you suffered doesnt happen on our unit. Many healing thoughts to you.