I got up to the ward about 1:30 am the nurse checked me in, and asked a million questions. "How are you feeling?" Like shit. "How/why got you here?" I tired to kill my self but my mother stopped me... I stopped my self??? Then finally showed me to my room. Working nights I couldn't sleep but the nurse was nice enough to open a dayroom for me to read the lone book I don't even remember from a bag I didn't know I packed. Next thing I know I'm balled up sobbing. I promised my self I would never end up in a place like this again...and on my mother's birthday. I missed work. I ruined one of my biggest supports birthday. I'm short I hated my self more then ever before. I regreted getting help. I wished I followed though. The dear nurse noticed and came and talked to me and cheered me up until I calmed down. I went to sleep at 5am and was forced back up at 6:30am and was in for one hell of a ride.
YOU ARE READING
The Inpatient Dairies
Non-FictionThe (ip) diaries are the real typed out pages of my personal journal while in impatient for mental health. I'm not going to sugar coat it there really depressing but it's the unfiltered thoughts and experiences of someone in a crisis unit for suicid...
