The Story Nobody Cares About.

"You understand that you are going to have to be on medication for the rest of your life?" That's what Dr. Foxton was asking me as I sat on a cold, folding dark brown chair. It was a small room that was way too bright, and my newly assigned psychiatrist was looking down at a piece of paper as he asked me ridiculous questions from a computer screen. This was something he was clearly used to. He probably has another 50 patients after me just ready to sign off on a drug to fix them right up. Maybe if he just so happens to guess the right drug on the right patient, he might save a life or two. Who knows? Maybe he will save us all.

This was day 3 out of Harvey William Behavioral Health. It wasn't as bad as the other hospitals I have stayed at before. The one before this one was so much worse. The food was always halfway cold and it was some kind of packaged meat. I’m not much of a cook, so most of the food I eat is frozen dinners and packaged something, this was definitely much worse than that. That hospital also never let us go outside and was where I was informed that I have something called Bipolar Disorder. Harvey William let us go outside at least five times a day and I was able to smoke my cigarettes. I make really healthy choices, I know.

Anyway, what landed me in the loony bin this time was actually my own doing. I wanted to go there. I'm absolutely crazy, clearly. I was a bit overwhelmed with my life. My child was 2 years old, I couldn't get a grip on my finances, my family was a bit too much, and I keep making the same mistakes over and over with a boy who probably will never be able to love me. I can't say I blame him. I don't really even love me. I love my kid, my mom, my siblings, my grandparents, my friends, and honestly anybody who gives me the time of day. Loving myself? That's a joke to be completely honest with you. I am 23 years old and I cannot recall a single time in my life where I was at peace with myself and who I am. I really thought after one of the many doctors I had seen told me I have bipolar disorder; I would have figured out by now how to just deal with that. Nope. Harvey William was kind of enlightening though. I met a few people in there that I really related to and honestly wish I could have helped. I know I would never be able to, I'm not sure if I will ever be able to help myself.

"I understand." I told Dr. Foxton and we finished going over the drugs he was assigning me to. Lamictal for the extreme mood swings and my favorite, Ambien to make me shut the hell up for once and just go to sleep. I got up and left and gave a nice smile to the nurses at the counter on my way out the door. I told them to have a nice day, then I got in my car and drove to a pharmacy and put in my order.

The Lamictal was covered by the state agency that was treating me. I had to come up with the money for the Ambien which was not the cheapest sleeping aid. When you work a crappy job and have a child, these really aren't things you should be spending your money on. However, I figured a 30 day supply should be fine and I can work it out with the other finances.

After dropping off my drug request, I went to see my therapist who actually wasn't so bad. There are a couple of ideas that he has that I don't exactly agree with, but overall, he has kind of helped me understand things a little better. "Welcome back Kelsi, How was your stay at Harvey Williams? Did you find it helpful?" he asked me while he was sitting in an armchair about six feet away from me. I was sitting in something a bit similar and there was a low sitting, basic white coffee table between us. Around us was dimmed lighting and random self-help pamphlets. There were also magazines and it seems he had put in a few blank journals in case anyone wanted one to start a diary with.

I just stared out the window for a couple of minutes before responding. "It was almost a vacation honestly. The food wasn't that bad, I made some friends. I was able to lay around and sleep all day. I even decided to actually pay attention in the groups." He nodded, "That's good to hear. Are you ready to talk about why you decided to check yourself in?" I sighed and stared out the window longer. It was so warm outside, and the sun was shining bright. However, there looks to be drops of water splashed on the window.

I don't exactly want to talk about why I checked in. It's honestly a stupid reason. I was just over it. Trying to take care of yourself and everyone else while the entire time you can only think, "Why am I even alive?" it's a bit much. I was going through another breakup with Eric and he was not my child's father. He has been really good with her though. Her dad went off and did his own thing after I ended our relationship over a year ago. He comes around every now and then and sees her but not as often as I would like. "Not really much to say about why I went in. I just wanted to. I couldn't be a part of my world anymore and I was losing my mind. That's really about it." I continued to look out the window and talk about my life. It's an entire hour talking about my entire life and I have been doing this a couple times a week for a while now, even more when I was in the hospital, and yet I still can't figure out what the hell my problem is. We started talking about my suicide attempt awhile back. Remember when I told you about the last hospital I stayed at with the crappy food? Well that one was because I had tried to swallow 30 pills and it didn't work.

The therapist I see is kind of a special therapist. Really this entire office really focuses more on sexual trauma. It was recommended to me awhile back by a man who checks up on people in a crisis and I've been suicidal more than twice. I have had a couple of sexual assault incidents in my life but they didn't really affect me that much but this place was free and I qualified. "Do you feel like this was more helpful than your stay at the last hospital after your attempt?" he asked me.

I glanced at him then back out the window. For what felt like a lifetime was only a few moments but my mind drifted back to a year ago. I had just left my daughter's father. Our relationship had become too toxic and I was not happy. I cheated on him with several people before he found out. When he did find out, I didn't seem to care at all. A week or two after we separated, I found myself feeling quite terrible. It was just kind of out of nowhere. I remember watching myself get into the car, driving to the drug store, and I bought as much cold medicine and Benadryl I could without raising any red flags to the cashier. I then went home and I watched myself sit on my bed, playing the most depressing music I could find, and I carefully took each pill one by one. It took awhile to swallow all of them but I was certain it was going to get the job done. After I swallowed them, I went outside and I laid in the grass staring at the sky. Remembering how many times I had done this before. Just staring at the clouds with my songs wondering why I don't deserve happiness. Why has everything gone so wrong? I was surely convinced that I could not keep going on. I hurt everyone. I broke my family. My daughter was going to live the same life I lived. My daughter was going to live in a broken home and it was completely and entirely my fault. She was better off without me.

Focusing back to what was happening in the moment, I responded," Oh yeah, definitely. I feel like I was more open to hearing about my disorder this time. I really appreciated the extra help." Part of that was actually true. I did appreciate the help, but I don't know if I was as open as I made him think I was. Either way, I'm not currently trying to kill myself so the Harvey Williams did it's job I guess. "And how are things with you and Octavia?" he asked about my daughter. What does he even mean though? Things are good of course. She is 2 years old and perfectly healthy. You can give this child a piece of paper and she will laugh at it for hours. Was he asking about our relationship? I mean, it's as good as it can be with any mother trying to just figure out a life for her and herself. I'm there for her as much as I can be in between having my meltdowns and working full-time. I know I love her, and I want what is the absolute best for her. How are "things" with us? "Good, good...she's definitely still the sunshine in my life." He smiled and seemed genuinely happy to hear that. Was he genuine though? Isn't this just a job to him? I mean why the hell does this guy sit with me twice a week for an hour just listening to my drama and bullshit? I'm just saying, I live with me all day every single day and I almost always want to kill myself. This cannot be the highlight of his day.

After I was done with therapy, I made my way back home. I try to do my crazy girl stuff on my days off because it's extremely exhausting talking about yourself for hours at a time. I was definitely drained and it was only 2 p.m. with the rest of the day still ahead. I came home and Octavia was in her play pen watching television while my mom was cleaning up the house. I gave her some kisses then I sat down on my couch and pulled out my phone to see if Eric had tried to reach out. Sure enough, no text or calls. I laid back and started watching my own shows on my phone. I was probably 10 minutes into it when I dozed off. I didn't want to fall asleep because I knew once I did, I probably wouldn't wake up until long after dinner was over, and it would be time for Octavia to go to bed. I couldn't help it though. It's all I wanted to do anymore. I just wanted to sleep. So, I did.