10-27-2011

I committed myself into a mental health ward. I was going to kill myself and leave my three beautiful children alone. How incredibly cowardly. The world, life, my situation became so overwhelming that I considered leaving it all behind and abandoning my children. And they are the reason I committed myself.

How could I do such a terrible thing? How could I leave the only three people I asked to be in my life? They gave me the most amazing honor of making me their mother; how could I ever make them think that I didn't love them enough to stay, that their love for me wasn't enough?

I knew I wasn't strong enough to do this on my own. My pride, my strength, my stubbornness, my fierce independence brought me to this deep, dark, nasty place that had no way out and no solution.

My strength, my stubbornness, my independence and my pride are also what made me make this decision.

This is a scary place to be in. Everyone is in various degrees of lucidity. The staff follows me around, controls what I do, where I am, and when I sleep. I am checked on every single minute, 24 hours a day. They kept all my belongings, my make up my clothes, my PHONE! (gasp!) Someone has to unlock my closet for me to get my clothes.

When I went to the emergency room, I was told to put on a hospital gown and everything I had, my purse, my phone, my boots, my clothes, everything was taken out of my room, “for safe keeping”. I remember telling my friend “Betty” , who took me there, “huh, they must have had some things stolen, because I've never had my things taken out of my room before.” She smiled at me. It wasn't until later on that I realized that they did that because I was on suicide watch.

The morning when I faced the fact that I was no longer strong enough to make it through the day without help, I called her. I didn't realize that I had so many people around me who were so ready to put their lives on hold and rally around me and my children and to do whatever it took to get me the help I needed. As usual, my children clicked right into crisis mode and stuck together into one unbreakable unit.

My beautiful baby girl wanted to drive back to Virginia, not to take care of mom, because she knew I was being helped, but to take care of her brothers. My friend “Betty”*, with five children of her own was ready to take my two in. My friends “Betty”, “Marty”* and “Olie”* and I are all close friends from EDA and we had already formed a close bond through EDA. I am in awe of how beautifully they flowed into this seamless action plan of action, support and love. “Marty” and “Ollie” dropped everything and moved into my house and stayed with my teenager, “Betty” kept my youngest at her place so he could be with her kids.

I also didn't realize until later that there was always someone next to me, around me, with me. I said I was going to kill myself, I was going to get help, but meanwhile, the people around me, those who loved and cared about me, were going to make sure I wasn't alone.

I was so angry with myself on the first morning I first woke up in this place. I had no control, I was taking some pretty strong medication for my anxiety and depression and to be able to sleep. The medication made me feel like I was in a fog, I was nauseous and I just wanted to sleep. I was still in the ER gown, no make-up, no phone, no cigarettes, no COFFEE! I had to follow everyone else who was just like me into the dining room, with too much food and the nasty food smell and my mind was ready to bolt out of there, yelling and screaming. But there was a small amount of sanity in there, (probably the drugs), that kept me under control. “I have an eating disorder and I can't be in here.”

It took most of the day of waiting, but I was finally able to talk to a doctor, a psychiatrist. First time ever. And my brain said “You are officially insane” and then it said “and here is where you are going to get help.” No, I am not insane, I am not crazy, I am not mad.

I have been trying to hold down, bottle in, control, repress and ignore everything.

The doctor asked, “So, what happened that caused to you have these thoughts of wanting to kill yourself?”

“Where would you like me to start?”

“Where ever you want.”

“I am the single mother of three; I am getting divorced for the second time; no one knows where my boys dad has disappeared off to; I have a protective order out against him; I am afraid he will come after me and hurt me; our marriage wasn't supposed to end this way; I have a “typical” teenager who loves me to pieces but is fighting against me to assert his independence and I love him so much; my “baby” boy is the most precious, kind, caring ,soul who is obviously quiet and mellow because he doesn't want to upset anything or anyone; I am looking for stable work; I am giving up my house to the bank; I have an eating disorder; I have lost 16 pounds in two weeks; I am still madly in love with my high school sweetheart and he is still my best friend; my daughter just went off to college and I miss her so much, she is my sounding block, my best friend; her father was mentally, emotionally and physically abusive to me and is now trying to atone for his sins by swooping in a “saving” me and I don't want him to “save” me; my mother has been an alcoholic since I was 9years old; my mother, my father and my brother have all announced that I am dead to them because I took my sister in law's side during her divorce from my brother; my brother is a sick twisted bastard; I  was attacked by a man when I was a child while going to buy my mother a bottle of gin and my mother knew about it and laughed it off; I am afraid of men; I have a job offer on the other side of the continent that I have to put on hold until my divorce is final; I wake up every morning in pain and my body feels like it's fighting against me and I want to control it all.”

His response; “Wow...”

And I finally admitted to that and a whole lot more. We discussed my medication, I accepted that I needed it in order to stabilize my moods; for now. I got my “street clothes”, I got my make up, I saw a therapist, I accepted help, I let go and I slept.

I don't want to be here because it's scary. I am afraid of the men in here, I'm scared of not being let out again, I miss my children, I want coffee and I need a cigarette. But I have to be here. I have to take care of myself. I have to learn to deal with everything I've been given. I accept it all but but have repressed and hid and tried to control it all on my own. I am here to take control of my life, but only of the things I can actually control and let go of the things I can't.

When I told my son that I had to get help, that I couldn't do this on my own, he said “I'm proud of you mom.” The beautiful people I've asked to help me have all surrounded me with love and support. I've heard “I'm proud of you” a lot and my reaction is to cringe. I feel like a coward for wanting to kill myself. I am doing something very scary; I am asking for help so that I can learn the things I need to do to be the person I know I am.

I am...taking one step at a time.

*Names have been changed to protect the privacy of my sane loved ones.