**TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM, DRUGS, OVERDOSE, SUICIDE, DONALD TRUMP**
Yesterday, I finished watching the second presidential debate and promptly overdosed on Ativan and Tylenol. My actions weren’t actually related to the US going to hell in a handbasket, but the timing is kind of funny.
As the lover of science and logic that I am, I decided to text my ex-girlfriend again, because it leads to a good outcome 100% of the time. This was Friday night. I managed to sleep away most of Saturday with the help of Seroquel and Melatonin, but by Sunday, I still felt like shit.
I didn’t want to die, but I needed to stop feeling the way I was feeling. So when the debate ended and there was nothing left to distract me, I took a bit of Ativan and a lot of Tylenol, self-harming between handfuls of pills. I figured it would either cause something to change, or it would kill me. Either way, I did not want to wake up the next morning to the same feelings.
I woke up my roommate, and we headed off to the hospital for THE FOURTH WEEKEND IN A ROW. My memory gets fuzzy at this point, but I know I was given a bed in the ER, hooked up to IV Acetylcysteine, and put on a “Form 1”.
I was seen by a psychiatrist and a psychiatric resident this morning, and they both felt that I did not need to be admitted to psych (thank god). So, once again, I have been admitted to medical for 18000 years of IV treatment. I realize this stuff is saving my life, but it’s doing it rather slowly.
So, something needs to change. Maybe it’s my meds. Maybe I need to start a new therapy program. Maybe, I float in and out of the ER until I do get admitted. Who knows?
In the meantime, I am lurking around Instagram and watching The Scorch Trials on Netflix. Hope everyone is well!