Suicide Survival

We walked into the service room. There was a line leading up to her casket. Everyone was sad, wearing all black. Consoling each other When we got to the front, that I observed her, I couldn’t believe it. How could such a beautiful young lady take her life away, she was just a teenager. I could see the bruises on her neck from the rope and I really observed her well. Pam looked tired & the room was full of emotions. Here go the waterfalls again. Crying seemed to be all I did. I felt weird for a second, looked at my mom & told her I needed a restroom. We walked out and found one in the lobby not far from the service room. I ran in a stall & threw up. I got so sick I told my mom we had to go. I couldn’t go back in there. I began feeling weird again. I didn’t feel like myself anymore.

We took a cab to Popeyes. Went home, I bathed, ate. It was getting dark, Angie was in her crib, Diana was in my bed, & I was next to my mom. She wanted to sleep next to me because she herself was overwhelmed. My mom almost lost her second child, her miracle child. I was a premature baby & was born with a lot of health issues. She went through so much with me from the moment she conceived to now. It had to be around 10 p.m. I was trying my best to sleep but the voices in my head wouldn’t shut the fuck up!

“Kill her”, they said. “No, she’s my mom”, I replied inside my head. “Kill her, kill them”, they weren’t stopping. “You need to kill them, you’ll feel so good”. “NO!” I said out loud as I held my head. My mom opened her eyes, looked at me scared & asked, “what?”, I looked at her & replied, “if you don’t take me to the hospital, I’m going to kill you”. “What?” She asked again as she lifted the top of her body off the bed. “You need to take me to the hospital, NOW PLEASE, there’s voices inside my head telling me to kill everyone!”.

The voices wouldn’t stop & I was fighting a battle that was wounding me in the most horrific way. The house was silent as we left. My mom didn’t have much to say, if only she knew I was more scared than she was. The tears were warm as they rolled down my cheeks. What a tragedy. She couldn’t catch a break, I felt like shit because that day I realized that it could’ve been me who was dead & that moment helped me feel how alive I really was. So if I was really alive, why did I feel so dead?

We got to the hospital, it was very bright. After registering & waiting a few minutes, the medical assistant calls me to the back to take my vital signs & figure out why I’m visiting the ER. I get to explaining and she continued unbothered, typing. My mother hasn’t said a word since we left the cab. Usually I get sent back to the waiting room to wait, not tonight. They had a room ready for me, it was cold, cartoons were on. I really hate peds. It was late, it had to be 2 a.m now, my mom had to leave & I had to wait until the morning to speak to a psychiatrist. I change into the hospital gown they gave me & laid there. I felt at peace, finally able to sleep. Relief came over me when I woke up still alone in my room, I could hear the nurses & patients beginning their day. The officer that was watching the floor last night came & asked if I wanted to eat breakfast. I declined. I asked for a towel, a new gown, new socks, so that I too, can begin my day.

A tall, white, brunette woman walks in & introduces herself. She was the doctor that was going to interview & diagnose me. I thought to myself, “finally, I get to tell someone who can help what’s happening”. She asked me so many questions, in the end, she comes to the diagnosis of bipolar depression. “Do you want to admit yourself for 72 hours observation in a hospital in Whiteplains?”, she asked calmly. “Yes” I replied. “You’ll have to sign some papers, see if your insurance will cover it & wait for transportation to pick you up, we’ll call your mom now”. “Okay”, “okay”, she replied back as she exited my cold, lonely room. “72 hours, I can do that, this is good for me. I’ve been at peace here, I’ll be okay” I said outloud to myself. My mind was quiet. I didn’t feel like hurting anyone, I didn’t feel like killing myself. I just felt like being at peace. Not long after, my mom shows up, she didn’t want me to admit myself. Of course, why would she? Everything had to be her way! Thankfully, the doctor believed it was in my best interest & my mom made up her mind. I was going. Why was I excited?