CONTENT WARNING: suicidal ideation; depression; mental health intervention; explicit language
Preface

I started this series, and I'm determined to finish it, but I had this original timetable that's just a memory now. Three parts done by 2020, no problem. The first post in the series was me thinking I had it all unpacked and then realizing I had just scratched the surface. Bare with me.
"A hundred million stories And a hundred million songs I feel stupid when I sing Nobody's listening to me Nobody's listening I talk to shooting stars But they always get it wrong I feel stupid when I pray Why the fuck am I praying anyway? If nobody's listening Anyone, please send me anyone Lord, is there anyone? I need someone, oh Anyone, please send me anyone Oh, Lord, is there anyone? I need someone Oh, anyone, I need anyone Oh, anyone, I need someone" |
Part II
In the Behavioral Health Center there was a faux pay phone that didn't require money. Security let me write down phone numbers before I had to turn my phone over. I made three calls to my friend Emily, my sister, and my parents. The first call to my parents was just to fill them in and tell them that I had visiting hours the next day. They offered to pick me up at that time instead of just visiting. I was unsure but said I'd think about it. By the morning, after speaking with a psychiatrist and the director of the center, I gave my parents the go-ahead. The director questioned my decision but ultimately let me check out because I had voluntarily checked myself in.
I was lying through my teeth when I told him I was ready. While I did feel a little more calm (as my blood pressure stats would show), I was merely rushing myself. The idea of recuperating with people who loved me felt so much more comforting than a clinical and cold place that scared the living shit out of me. |
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: I went back and forth on using explicit language. I decided to keep the words in because they depict my truest of emotions. I do believe there's something beautiful and raw about the act of saying a word that frees me from pain and suffering. I'm also not about to hide behind my words when I chose to be so transparent about all the other things I've been through. If you wish to be alarmed, be alarmed at the lack of resources and money given to the mental health field. This is something I plan to tackle in my later pieces of this series.
Work was also at the forefront of my mind. I was consumed with the anxiety of looming deadlines. I couldn't stop thinking about how much leave I had already taken because of my ongoing vertigo issues. The fear of constantly letting my team down was deeply rooted in why I ended up at that institution and why I left so suddenly.
In Part I, I compared my numbness to cruise control. Though I wasn't all there, I was able to comprehend that something was different. Something was not right. For the first time in my life, I began to have suicidal thoughts (see @alyseruriani's image below). Thankfully, an alarm went off in my brain: this was far from anything normal. Yes, from the age of 19, I've been an anxious person who would go through bouts of depression, but never did I ever think of ending anything.
Even when I got to the center, I downplayed what I was experiencing. I kept telling the professionals, "I only thought about it, but I wasn't going to do it." They reassured me that I was in fact a danger to myself and that I did the right thing. Still, some part of me felt like I was overreacting. Raw conversations with other patients made me realize they had either attempted suicide or were in the center for the third or fourth time. I thought again, I am totally blowing this all out of proportion. I don't feel fine, but maybe this is all in my head. The fact remains: suicidal thoughts are indeed an active sign of ideation.
I actually didn't stumble upon @alyseruriani's image until five months after my time in the center. It's helped me put a name to where I was at, and what I was going through. It's helped me realize that I was in trouble, and that I did the right thing. It's helped me be a better student affairs professional. It's helped me be a better human. It's helped me feel validated. It's helped me feel. I hope it helps anyone out there reading this who has struggled with all the weight we must carry in this world.
I actually didn't stumble upon @alyseruriani's image until five months after my time in the center. It's helped me put a name to where I was at, and what I was going through. It's helped me realize that I was in trouble, and that I did the right thing. It's helped me be a better student affairs professional. It's helped me be a better human. It's helped me feel validated. It's helped me feel. I hope it helps anyone out there reading this who has struggled with all the weight we must carry in this world.