So, today has been one of the most unpleasant days of my life.
If you read my previous two posts, you know that I took a lot of Ativan last night in order to cope with some feelings regarding my breakup. I ended up scaring my roommate, and after calling poison control and the pharmacy for second opinions, she called 9-1-1. I was heavily sedated at this time, so the next thing I remember is being woken up by my roommate and two paramedics.
The next thing I remember is waking up this morning in an unfamiliar hospital, and being told I had been “formed”. This means that I was deemed a danger to myself or others, and that the hospital could legally hold me for up to 72 hours to receive psychological evaluation. I was pissed. I took some extra Ativan… it clearly wasn’t a suicide attempt.
I was transferred to a hospital with emergency psychiatric services around 11-12. Up until this time, I had been repeatedly refused my medication, even though I feel much worse emotionally and physically when I take them late.
Anyways, I thought the doctor would see me quickly, and that I would be out the door in a couple of hours. That is not what happened. I waited in a locked ward for 10 hours, during which time I received one sandwich, two cookies, one cup of water, and no medication.
I had a panic attack. I cried and cried, asking for the form to be lifted. I felt so claustrophobic trapped in this shitty room involuntarily for an unknown amount of time. Since I woke up this morning, I have just wanted to go home. I finally had my psychological evaluation around 10, and after additional waiting for follow-up questions and a final recommendation, I was able to leave the hospital around 11.
I remember nothing about the ride to the hospital or the initial evaluations. My roommate recently informed me that on multiple occasions, I threatened to “take Tylenol next time and wait to die so I don’t have to deal with any of you.” That might have something to do with getting formed. I also apparently forgot every ten minutes that my vitals had been taken, and got lost on the way back from the bathroom, which are far more funny and less scary.
There is no moral to this story. I mean, I guess don’t OD on Ativan. It really isn’t that dangerous though. (I am an awful person) My roommate did the right thing by calling someone; she thought they would monitor me overnight and send me home in the morning. She couldn’t predict the awful things I would say. Honestly, I couldn’t either. I can’t imagine saying those things to a doctor, especially one with the option to hold me involuntarily. And the form does make some sense given the threats I was making. Although, getting my medication 14 hours late wasn’t necessary, and dinner would have been nice. The assholes who allowed that to happen have no excuse.
I am home now, and extremely happy about it. I have taken some gravol and melatonin to counter the effects of taking my medication late (namely nausea and difficulty sleeping), so I imagine I will be asleep very soon. That’s about it for my terrible, awful, no-good, very bad day. Don’t have that day.
I am being held in the hospital involuntarily for up to 72 hours until I get a psychiatric assessment. In other words, I am on a “Form 1”, courtesy of the mental health act. I didn’t even try to kill myself. My roommate called them after I took too much Ativan, which isn’t lethal. I want to go home, so I am fucking pissed.
TW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, DEPRESSION, SUICIDE
In sake of full disclosure, I am extremely under the influence of excess Ativan/ Lorazepam.I took some more, and now I have bad a lot, but not a dangerous amount.
I would like something very deep to come out of this post, but I doubt it.I am very, very, very, very happy that **This is when Sarah forgot what she was talking about and became unable to keep the conversation going or whether there is a mood that needs to be kept or anything,
My point is, I am in Hell, Lorazepam helps. Will probably want more later. I’m turning into the worst fucking influence. Didn’t step out into traffic today. Win!
Note: I cannot comprehend anything about this posting at this point so I apologize ahead of time for the poor decisions in posting.
TW: SUICIDE, EATING DISORDERS, SUBSTANCE ABUSE I GUESS
The following post will not be well-written. It might not even be written. I pulled out my laptop to write this in the middle of changing, so I’m writing this topless, and I keep getting distracted by my own boobs. Way too much information, I know.
I took 2.5 mg of Ativan. I am supposed to take 0.5- 1 mg per day at most. So I am very sedated right now.
I had a bad day.
I went to a thing on campus to meet new people. I hate meeting new people (social anxiety disorder life), but I have like one friend, so I need to get on that. But then I met a Chinese girl. My ex was Chinese- Malaysian. It’s so stupid, but that brought up a bunch of memories and feelings and other shit.
While walking home with my best friend, she found out that her boyfriend didn’t get the Rhodes endorsement, so his dream of going to Oxford is dead or whatever. So she had to go comfort him because he’s upset.
I started feeling like everybody has somebody, and I don’t. I used to have somebody, or at least I thought I did, but I don’t now. I just feel like everybody who has a person should shut the fuck up about their problems, because I would give anything to have that. And it’s probably going to be a while before I have anything like that. Because my ex is a bitch who ruined my life. I don’t even like calling people bitches. But there isn’t a word awful enough to describe her, so I figure offensive terms are the closest I can get.
My point is, nobody gives a shit. I trusted her to give a shit. And she said she did. But she’s a fucking liar and now I’m alone in the world which is my biggest fear so I sort of want to die all of the time, not that she gives a fuck. She hasn’t asked our mutual friend how I’ve been since I was in the hospital. For all she knows, I’m dead. I guess it’s all the same to her.
My best friend keeps pissing me off because I hate everybody but also she’s dealing more with restricting lately which is really fucking triggering and she should know it’s really fucking triggering. Stop telling me that you’re struggling with restriction, stop talking about how you’re losing weight all the fucking time, you’re barely even losing weight, don’t tell me your fucking BMI. Now I feel like I need to win.She was always the Bulimic, and I was Anorexic. Restriction and weight loss were my things. Binge and purge all you want, but I will kick your ass at restriction. So now I have to relapse and die because of her.
I just want to have someone. I thought I had that. She fucking abandoned me. I am in so much pain all the time and it makes me hate everyone in the entire world because they should see how much agony I am in and do something about it. I need help.
I considered taking more pills today again. That’s how shitty I feel. But in all likelihood, I’ll get scared and go to the hospital again, where they’ll admit me to medical for like 36 hours. And I’d probably get admitted to psych this time.
I can’t be admitted to the hospital because I have plans with my parents and telling them any of this isn’t an option. But anyways, they’re making stupid fucking birthday plans with me. I don’t want to hang out with them, I don’t want to go out for dinner, I don’t want the reminder that it’s my stupid birthday next week. Four weeks ago, I thought stupid bitchface would be around for my birthday. I thought things were going to turn out a lot differently. Instead, I’ll just be alone and suicidal this year ok thanks. I don’t want my birthday to even happen. Ugh but I have to do all these plans and it’s just annoying. I want to lie in bed tomorrow and do absolutely fucking nothing.
So I hate everyone and everything in my life, and I am in an indescribable, horrific amount of pain all of the time. How did I get here? How did this become my life? She did this to me. She doesn’t even give a shit. I want to die.
I need to finish getting ready for bed, because my functioning isn’t working out and I have gotten out my main points.
Sorry for this shit. I know I’m an asshole. I know I’m a bad person. I know my writing sucks and this post is weird and I’m a dramatic fuck. I know. Whatever. I need to put a fucking shirt on and brush my teeth though so that’s it sorry not sorry.
When I left the hospital Sunday, I was the happiest I had felt in weeks. I had no desire to contact my ex again, and was happy to be alive. My ex can still go fuck herself, but so can my life.
Maybe I didn’t sleep enough last night, but I hate everybody today. Even my best friend. Especially my best friend.
She decided yesterday that she could be pregnant because she fucked up her birth control earlier in the month. Despite how unlikely this was given her shitty eating patterns, she took two tests. I was supportive. It’s a scary thing. I guess it made sense to take a test, just to be 100% sure. But two? Whatever. You do you. This morning, I got a message from her saying she was missing work to take another test at the Student Health Education Centre. I decided to meet her there after class, because still, I’m supportive as fuck.
But she messaged me back saying she was with her boyfriend, so it was okay. First of all, why message me then? For attention? You’re not fucking pregnant. And she’s turning this into a whole thing where they’re bonding and discussing what they would do if anything ever happened, but NOBODY IS PREGNANT. Stop looking for attention from your boyfriend and everybody else over a pretend issue. Some of us have nobody in our lives and want to die all the time. You’re lucky you have somebody to impregnate you.
I know I’m just a bitter bitch because nobody gives a shit about me. But I am over this day and it isn’t even 10:30 and I have linear algebra in 15 minutes, which I don’t want to go to. And then I have to go home and read a million textbook chapters and then possibly buy shoes and then go to a Social Anxiety group (room full of people not wanting to be in a room full of people? sounds like a blast), and then go to comedy night at the pub. And some asshole in Calculus kept putting their feet up behind me, and that’s fucking disgusting. It isn’t related at all, but I’m pissed about that too.
That’s it for right now. Time for some fucking linear algebra.