i exist as a trigger

(via frail-cat)

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(via fyp-psychology)

(via frail-cat)

(via frail-cat)

On February 13th, 2018 I was dying from alcohol poisoning and blood loss. A suicide attempt. My BAL when I arrived at the hospital was 1.73 according to the nurses that spoke with my wife. I was unconscious and unable to wake until she broke into the ER to be by my side. I woke up the moment she bent down by my bed when nothing else was waking me. I reached for her hand while also revealing the bandaging around my wrist. I have never seen so much pain in her eyes. Hours later, I was forcibly admitted to a psychiatric hospital that was located two hours away. While being transported, I considered how I would use this experience to be better for her and for my son. But the moment I stepped in to the facility, my soul broke in half. I never thought the sum of my actions would lead to more pain. I spent six days in Longleaf. The first day, gaining friends almost immediately. An older lady by the name of Bonnie was the first to introduce herself and give me a sense of safety. Second, was Alexis. She gave me a cigarette and a hug because I had tears in my eyes constantly throughout my check in process. She was close to my age and helped me feel stable. I proceeded to speak with others and learn their stories. Chelsea, my roommate. She made me laugh constantly. She always mentioned how grateful she was to have me as her roommate because I snore and so does her husband so it reminded her of home. And Alonzo, the soldier from Jersey. He became like an older brother that looked out for me while treating me as an equal. And Michael, who was the closest to home and the happiest guy I’ve ever met. And….Daniqua. The girl who replaced Chelsea as my roommate. She was absolutely petrified when she was checking in so I took the liberty to be the first to make her feel welcomed and safe just as Bonnie and Alexis did for me on my first day. She was a bubbly little soul who seemed to have been kept in a tight bubble throughout her 19 years. She became friends with those who shared her religious beliefs and it joyed me to see her find a place for herself. Until my last day. See, Longleaf is dedicated to distracting people to the extent of making them forget about reality. So we don’t necessarily get to pay attention to everything that happens. We just watch tv, smoke cigarettes, and converse with each other and our nurse technicians that became like friends to us. But as I was signing my discharge papers and calling my wife to come pick me up, I heard screams. Coming from my room. I asked another patient to be sure, and it was Daniqua. She had refused medication and was restrained and forced to take them. While this is not only the most scarring situation that I have ever witnessed, it was a violation of her rights and HIPPA laws. As well as why I am being evaluated for PTSD. While I’m grateful for the fact that I lived past my suicide attempt and the wonderful humans I met during my treatment, I cannot forget this day. I dream about her screams almost every night. I cry and scream just as she did because I dream of myself where she was. I can’t move past this horror and it’s beginning to effect my normal life. And I’m trapped in Longleaf. I can’t get away and I can’t forget. I’ve cut myself off from the world entirely and focused on my family and only them for two months. And I believe I’m getting worse. I’m falling into the mental space that started this. I’m lost and I don’t know where to go. I’m dying again.