Ever go upstairs with said knife, still snotty faced and blubbering, whining, sniffling, pouting, crying, wailing? Ever have husband, et. al ask what is in your hand? Ever have a knife taken away from you? Ever ask someone you love and trust to take you to the hospital because you are scaring yourself? Ever have that loved one not really think you are that far gone and tell you that you are drunk and just need to sleep? Ever have said person tell you that they won't take you to the hospital and that you'll have to call 9-1-1 if you want to go? Ever go downstairs and call 9-1-1 and say that you need to go to the hospital and explain that you are drunk and nearly suicidal and cutting on yourself with a knife? Ever tell a stranger on the phone (for the millionth time in 2 1/2 years) the sad story of the deaths in your family? Ever have them try to reassure you and tell you that help is on the way? Ever sniff and say "thank you and I'm so embarrassed" and hand the phone to said loved one?
Ever stand in the kitchen with another knife, just staring at it, while listening to 2 police officers being let into the house? Ever have the police officers come up gently behind you and say "HEY! What are you doing?" while expertly (but gently) removing the knife from your hand? Ever wail and sob and talk about incoherent shit while a police officer searches (and removes) anything from your coat pockets (gloves, matches..) and tells you that it is not necessary to take your coat off. Ever be patted down in your own kitchen? Ever be handcuffed for your own protection while standing in your kitchen? Ever feel like such a dumb fucking loser? Ever feel like you are in a Lifetime Movie Network movie? Ever wish it was more like a David Lynch movie?
Ever have police officers ask said loved one if he now understands that you need to be taken to the hospital? Ever have police officers tell you that your family and friends wouldn't want you to hurt yourself or die as you are walking out your front door? Ever be driven to the ER at 2:50 am because you seem to be at risk for suicide? Ever just sit there, mind completely blank, in a state of shock, drunk and numb and speechless at what you've just done and what you are putting said loved one (and whomever he might call) through with your pathetic attempts at "crying out for help"?
Ever walk into an ER all soggy faced and red eyed and drunk and low, low, low but desperate and scared? Ever sob so much that you can't talk and said loved one has to explain what is going on? Ever be led (said loved one remaining in lobby?) to a room with a camera in it and 2 benches and nothing else? Ever be told to change into hospital scrubs and have your clothes and purse and coat taken away from you? Ever have a nurse explain that this will take hours and hours and that a doctor will see you and then a crisis counselor and that there is a long process to this? Ever just nod your head that you understand, while staring blankly at the wall, tears staining your ugly, desperate face? Ever have a nurse ask that you promise not to hurt yourself or others while in their hospital and quietly (as if you are a three-year-old) say "yes, I promise"?
Ever sit in what feels like jail, rocking back and forth and crying and then just doing nothing all the while being very aware of how much you hate the fact that someone is probably observing you on the camera in the room (and that the person behind the camera saw you undress into your scrubs?) Ever feel so fucking hung over in a jail-like "loony bin/holding cell/claustrophobic's nightmare?" that your head feels like it will explode and all of your problems and feeling sorry for yourself will suddenly be over? Ever start to sober up slowly and realized that you DO NOT want to hurt yourself, kill yourself, hurt others, be institutionalized (though you thought it might be interesting to be away from every body and get some rest and maybe write a story about it at the same time and then realize how sick those are for reasons to want to be institutionalized?)...Ever wonder "WHY DID I DO THIS?" Ever go to the bathroom and have a nurse ask you for a urine specimen (and then have them not use it for anything?)
Ever eat crackers when your mouth is already feeling like a saltine and nearly choke, but thank god for the water in the little dixie cups? Ever be given a HUGE plastic beaker like cup full of water only to have it taken away by another nurse because "you aren't allowed to have anything like that in here because once we gave a guy this and he broke it on the wall and tried to cut himself"? Ever hear one nurse gently reiterate to the guilty nurse that plastics aren't allowed for the "psych patients?" Ever hear yourself referred to as a PYSCH patient and sort of cringe and laugh at the same time, thus causing you to realize how sane you truly are?
Ever get so impatient that you start pacing a room and leaning your head up against a wall (where the camera's eye isn't looking at you all the time) because your fucking head hurts? Ever ask a nurse for some aspirin and say "because my head hurts and it is my own damn fault"? Ever tell a doctor about how sad you are about things (like dead mothers and sisters) that you can't control and how you are tired of always being strong and in control and blah fucking blah? Ever have doctor be pretty sympathetic (surprising for an ER doctor) and say "You've had a really, really rough stretch" and think, "yes, that is true but it is an UNDERSTATEMENT!" Ever think the ER doctor was sort of cute and than laugh at yourself and thank god you still have a sense of humor not matter WHAT..always that. Ever tell the bearded crisis counselor (who yawns constantly while talking to you and has enormous dark circles under his eyes) the same story that you told the doctor, but in more detail and finally just say "you know...I'm tired of talking about all of this. I've been talking about this forever, it seems. There is nothing left to say." Ever have the crisis counselor ask you if you still feel like hurting yourself? others? Asking if you ever hear voices (and laughing because it is sort of a funny question and you are thankful that you never hear voices!) and having the counselor laugh, too, and say "sorry...just a standard question I have to ask"? Ever tell the crisis counselor that you feel better now and just want to go home? Ever have the crisis counselor go talk to said loved one in the lobby (who has been entertaining himself for 4 hours by getting coffee, reading stupid magazines , and watching "Becker" (some Ted Danson sit com?)) and have that same crisis counselor say that "She feels better now and wants to go home and that it was mostly attention-seeking behavior and that ultimately it is up to you whether you feel comfortable taking her home and taking care of her?" and having said loved one say "Yea...I want to take her home."
Ever feel SO relieved when said loved one walks in the room and you can tell from his eyes that he is tired but not in the least bit angry with you? Ever hug the belly of your best friend and lover while still sweating in your scrubs and sitting on a green bench in a "holding room" with a camera? Ever finally have your possessions brought back to you and be glad to change out of those nasty paper scrubs? Ever have a young guy hand you a sheet stating that you need to call your Primary Care Physician in a day or two and let her know what is going on and that you also need to get back into seeing your counselor? Ever be given hand outs on depression (you know everything that is already written on that sheet by heart) and PTSD (which you always suspect you've suffered mildly from since Sarah's murder) and Alcohol Abuse (which makes you wonder not if you are an alcoholic, because you know you aren't, but whether you have some sort of drinking problem sometimes? Ever wonder if you are actually in denial about having a binge-drinking problem? Ever still be confused about why this evening/morning had to happen in the first place?
Ever wave goodbye to all the nice nurses and the sweet doctor and repeatedly say "thanks so much" and feel stupid but relieved?
Ever go home and get under the covers when the sun is already up and only sleep for a few hours but feel so grateful that the nightmare is over and that you feel tired but back to "normal"?
Ever decide you don't want anybody to know about this night but decide that you need to let it out anyway?
Don't relate to this story? Nah. Me neither. It all happened to my "friend" *cough, cough*
