Advertisements
Health&Wellness,  Life with N

The Empty Room

First, let me mention TRIGGER WARNING . This is the final instalment in my experience being at the hospital. You can read the first two posts here and here. Please do not read this if you are triggered by anything surrounding suicide.

It was my turn to be in an empty, cold room. I sat on the bed, and at this point my body was shaking.

A nurse had to bring in a chair to sit in. She went through a series of questions. My arm ached. My head ached. Really, everything ached. I wanted to go home so badly. I tried to remember what had happened that evening, and how I felt, but my brain was simply not cooperating. Thinking so hard, and tears streaming down my cheeks. Then, she had to search my purse, and wallet.

I can`t even begin to tell you how it felt to empty my pockets of my jacket, and have everything laid down on the bed, because I was no longer a person to trust. One quick glance around the room gave me a panic attack. No windows, no blanket, no plugs, and even after closing the door, it was quietly opened after I laid down.

I missed my medication, and the bed was positioned directly under a vent blowing cold air. I felt awful. I wanted to curl up in a ball and die.

I laid there all night long feeling alone, and like a failure. There was a big piece of me that couldn`t help but acknoledge that, had I just went through with my plan, I wouldn`t be where I was. I never felt so alone.

The doctor that came in early morning was lovely. He was very easy to talk to, and cleaned and bandaged up my arm. It was at that point that I found out I couldn`t leave until the mental health nurse came in to speak with me, and then I had to be assessed again by the doctor. I felt so unbearably trapped.

I sat there for hours.

No meds again, no water, no tea/coffee, no food. I was so cold, my body ached, my mind was exhausted, and I was hungry and needed coffee.

Hours later, the nurse came in, and I had to tell my story yet again. However, she was very helpful and worked out a plan with me. We sat talking for two hours, openly and honestly, and I really can`t tell you how good it felt to put voice to my feelings. She gave me chapters from books she thought I`d enjoy, went through coping techniques for anxiety, and gave me some resources to find support groups. She was amazing.

Finally, at long last, the final doctor assesement. I had to be able to tell her in detail what my mental health plan was, and if I was in crisis what I was going to do.

I was exhausted upon being released. I later found out that I wouldn`t have been able to check myself out, nor would my husband. I was sent there by the RCMP and they were going to be ensuring that the doctor finished the assesement. It took me quite a few days to wrap my head around the entire experience.

I felt broken.

The scars have been healing, but the memory of laying there, in the cold, hungry, and alone hasn`t. I was afraid of the room, and of what was going to happen to me.

For a little while I tried to block this all out of my mind, which is why it took me so long to write about it. Now, I`m piecing it together and understanding that it`s okay. I didn`t fail.

Thank you for reading my story.

Love Always. N

Advertisements

6 Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.