I Was Admitted After a Suicide Attempt.

I was 15 years old and I had already decided that I hated my life.  I had been cutting myself for 2 years and no one knew about it.  My parents found my journal and after reading it secretly photocopied the entire thing.  They sent me to a psychiatrist and I was so angry about being in that office that I didn't say a word the entire time I was there.  Since he had all of my inner thoughts at his disposal, I walked out of the office with the diagnosis of clinical depression, PTSD, and anorexia.  So much for keeping my mouth shut. 

He gave me 4 different types of medications.  I am not going to list them because I don't want to give any ideas to anyone who isn't in a good state of mind.  I was against the whole idea of therapy and medication because at that point I was convinced that I could still "fix" everything myself.  I didn't want to be forced into anything.  My solution was to take all of the medications that I was prescribed and everything else in the house that I could find.  I swallowed all of the pills and went to bed.  From this point on, I don't remember anything... everything I know is from what my parents have told me.

I began throwing up uncontrollably and my Mom suspected something was going on and she went looking for the medication.  Once she found the empty bottles she took me to the hospital.  I became unconcious on the way to the hospital and once I got there they put a tube down my nose and pumped charcoal into my stomach.  I had a 2 siezures and was air lifted to pediatric specialty hospital nearby.  I spent 4 days in a coma there. 

When I woke up, I was hallucinating.  I was convinced that the IV's in my arm were actually bean-stalks with crayons growing off of them.  Once I had come down from all of them medications that I had ingested, I was pissed to still be alive.  The hospital psychiatrist came in to see me and told me as nicely as possible that I was being transfered to a mental hospital.  

I didn't have any energy left in me to fight with him.  The next day I was admitted into a psychiatric institution for depression and an eating disorder.  I spent a total of 14 days there and my 16th birthday.  

I am much better than I used to be but I am no where near perfect.  I still cut myself on occasion and I am struggling with my eating disorder a lot right now.  I have great friends in my life who are there for me as much as they can be and I attribute most of my sanity to them.  I have been hospitalized once since then (for anorexia).  I love my job right now and ironically am working as an EMT - helping people who don't always want the help.  I also have an amazing boyfriend at the moment who doesn't completely understand where I am coming from with everything, but loves me despite everything else.  If I keep going the way that I am, I am sure that eventually I will be okay. 

complicationsofexistance complicationsofexistance
18-21, F
4 Responses Mar 6, 2009

I feel for you. I cant believe that they (your parents) and your doctor would invade your personal space and steal your diary. That just completely ruins the purpose of having a diary, which is why I never keep one. It's too risky, if the book got into the wrong hands, for someone to have all your thoughts and emotions, that of which they could use against you. But still, i'm glad that you have gotten better. And remember to always stay strong!

I hope everything is going well for you. It's really important to have people around you who care about you when you've got problems, so I'm glad you have your boyfriend too. I've been through a similar situation so I can understand a lot of where you're coming from.

You've come a long way in your walk to healing. <br />

Thanks. Like the ending. :)