The Psych Ward: 2 Years Later

On May 21st it was 2 years since I was admitted to the teen ward at my local psych hospital. Let me tell you a little bit about what had happened.

Up to that point I had been depressed/suicidal for about a year. I couldn’t imagine a future past 14. To be honest that was kind of freaky, not knowing when your last straw would be. All that I knew was soon enough I’d kick the bucket. For months and months up to May 21st I had been planning to do something to off myself.

About a month before, my grandmother and namesake, had a stroke. My mother rushed across the country to go care for her. Those 10 days could have been the worst in my life. Every time my mother called, she was on the verge of tears and I felt as if I couldn’t talk to her about my world crashing down around me. While she was gone I would open up to my father about my self harming, how I felt as if I was developing an eating disorder, and how “sad” I felt to put it lightly. I was much more than sad at that point in time, it was as if I was stuck in an endless tunnel with no lights.

The day of May 21st, 2012, the school found out an alumni had passed away. My improv teacher was distraught, and seeing that man like that was horrible. See, ever since I entered that class, he has inspired me. He made me smile and laugh so hard I could barely breathe, even on my darkest days. He has inspired me since to just be myself and people will accept me and will be inspired to be themselves. I want to take a moment in this prompt to thank him for inspiring me so much, and inspiring so many important friends of mine.

After going to the cafe because the recital hall, where my improv class took place, was being used as a place of mourning and reflection, my friend pulled me out. She knew what I was planning on. So she told me we were going down to guidance so she could talk to our councelor about the death of the former student. So she talked with our councelor about his death and how she couldn’t believe it. As she walked out of the office without me, she causally stated that I wanted to kill myself. Then what felt like the fragmented pieces of my world fell apart. I spent the rest of the day in offices of various councelors and doctors with my father. The doctors would determine if I was sick enough to be admitted to a psych ward. By the end of the day, that’s what would happen.

The first 24 hours weren’t the worst, the second 24 hours were. Let me tell you why, for the first 24 hours I didn’t have to talk to anyone about anything. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, but some kids in the ward were kind enough to talk to me that first night. Getting out of bed the second morning was the bravest thing I ever did. I mean I didn’t want to be there, I wanted to be dead. But in the group therapy session that morning, we stated our name, mood, and goal for the day. “Ainslie. Irritated. To be less irritated by the end of the day.”

I met some fantastic kids in the ward. There were 2 boys, both in for detox. It was neither’s first time in the hospital. There was a girl who overdosed on sleeping pills who was the nicest creature on earth and you would never know something was wrong. There was also a girl, one of my roomies, who taught me how to play 5 Card Draw. There was also a girl who always did a British accent to cheer people up. A pair of girls were inseperable even though they had met in that particular hospital stay. I learned some damn important lessons through those kids.

One lesson I learned from them is life keeps going, even if you don’t want to. Life keeps going, even after you want to end it. It doesn’t stop for anybody, but you can grab ahold of it again, even after wanting to end your life. Even after your world crashing all around you. I’m glad I’m still alive, despite not knowing what the future holds for me. Despite being completely terrified of what will happen to me. I have surrounded myself with fantastic people and I hope I can help them the way they help me.

Advertisements

New Poem & Book?

Love Gone Wrong

I don’t love you anymore

I can’t point out when I stopped

Just one day

Your lips traced mine

And I realized you burned

All the holes into my skin

I no longer felt the fire

Just the desire of lust

It’s time for me to leave

So I have one part

Untouched by you

 

On a lighter note I am thinking about publishing a book of poems I have written at school. At school meaning I got inspiration from something while I was at school and wrote down the poem(s). I’m not sure how many poems will be in the book or when it will be published, but hopefully soon. I just need some feedback on if people would read it or not, so it would be nice if you told me based on my work on this blog. I’ll come out with more details soon!

Love’s 13 Reasons Why

How to tell someone you love them

Or show them rather

1. When he gives you a mixtape full of cheesy songs for your one month, write him a poem

2. Give him the poem, he’ll love it

3. Tell him you like him more than coffee

I like coffee a whole damn lot

But trust me I like him more

I’m sure he appreciates it

4. Addition to #1, add swears to that poem

They add emphasis, don’t be afraid of them

5. Make him a mixtape

Wether it’s been 2 days or 6 months

Give it to him

Chances are you’ll have different tastes but he’ll love it anyways

6. There will be days or weeks you wish he didn’t self destruct all the time

You would do anything to make him happy

7. Learn to enjoy making out in the woods

Even if it’s  behind the school

And the cross country team always interrupts

8. Don’t hate his parents for trying to keep you apart

For all you know it could make the two of you stronger

9. Don’t let the scars on your wrist define you

And don’t let his define him

We all struggle sometimes

10. Find the right time to tell him about your mental illness(es)

Yes I’m looking right at you

He’ll thank you for being honest and open

11. Teach him to love himself

Just don’t show any hints of your self hatred

If you can’t teach him to love himself

Show him someone can love him despite his self loathing

12. Show him your poetry blog

Maybe he will feel less alone

13. Tell him you’ll do anything for him

Even if he gets kicked out of his house

Because his strict mother is overly religious and refuses to let her son love someone

If this means being patient and waiting

Do it anyways

 

Mad For You

When I kiss you

I thank god I’m not dead anymore

See depression makes you work backwards

I’m dying an alcoholic

And your lips are the whiskey keeping me away from sober

Last night I staggered to bed barely concious

I keep a bottle nearby so when I wake

I’m pissed drunk within the hour

Your hands are the only I would let run down even the most damaged parts of me

Your eyes remind me that there is hope

Even on the days I feel dead again

Your kiss reminds me that even the imperfections can make something perfect

What I’m trying to say is

I think I’m mad for you

Not the beautiful type of mad either

The kind that lasts forever

That feels like a tornado ripped through your rib cage when it’s gone

If it leaves that is

Shit I’m In Love

When you first held my hand

I was overflowing with joy

Now let me tell you something

There was a time when

I would go to sleep hoping I wouldn’t wake

I had seriously considered dowing pills, jumping off a bridge, or tying that damn belt around my neck

I spilled scarlet from my veins for comfort

So when our fingers interlocked

I told myself that recovery felt good

You appear in my dreams

It always ends with you kissing me

I just hope when that day comes

I’m filled with butterflies – and not the kind you feel when you’re so close to downing those pills

But the “shit I’m in love” kind