mental illness

short story

Roy Clarke, that's my name. And this is my story.

*disclaimer: this is based on a true story with slight alterations of the story and changed names. the person that told me this wanted me to share it here as a story.

At the age of 17 I wanted to end my life. I wasn't happy with anything anymore. I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital and ended in a closed facility. I was in complete disarray and my life didn't make sense to me anymore. They gave me a ton of anxiolytics and I started to calm down through the next few days. I barley ate and still didn't feel very good, but I was open to get better. Or so I thought. I had sessions with a psychiatrist specialized for children and teens. It was alright. I didn't really had a reason why I didn't want to live anymore. I thought I was in a stable relationship with my girlfriend. I was working as a nurse. I had friends and family and I shouldn't have had any reason to end my life. But I still wanted to. Mental illness is not always because of some reason. Sometimes it just happens. In the facility I befriended a group of teens close to my age. All of them had some sort of trauma that they ended up here. Only I didn't. It made me feel even worse. I didn't have any problems and there were people that really had such problems, still I with no problems wanted to take my life. I spiraled deeper into my depression. I don't think the doctors noticed. Finally the day came where I could go home and to work for a half a day. I felt horrible while working and left early. At home I had a fight with my mom. I can't clearly remember what it was about, but I think she accused me of not trying hard enough. I was so done with this. I remembered something my pharmaceutical teacher had told us 'if you take more than 10g of paracetamol you'll die'. I had thought about this sentence often when I felt like I wanted to end my life, but now I had the chance to go through with it. I took 10g of paracetamol and waited. My mother drove me back to the closed facility. I started feeling really ill, my whole body hurt and I felt like throwing up. I finally confessed to my therapist what I had done and they gave me some medication that should function like an antidot. I lay in my bed cramping and sweating for hours. I slept for a few hours before the nausea and vomiting began. I threw up until only gall juice came. I felt horrible and I really thought I was gonna die. My therapist called an ambulance and they took me to the closest hospital. Blood samples were being taken not only from my veins but also radial artery. I was in constant pain. They brought me to the ICU in a different hospital since theirs was full. On my way there I was sweating like crazy while still occasionally throwing up. While all of this I thought I felt the annoyance of every single person that took care of me. That caused a panic attack, which resulted in them being even more annoyed than before. I still wanted to die. In the ICU the nurses and doctors took blood samples again and connected a drip with a more effective antidot to my veins. Hours passed by and I started to slowly feel better and drifted into a very lucid sleep. The next morning I woke up dripping in sweat. My parents were both by my side. My mother was in this like this angry-relieved mood. My father sat silently next to her. My mother wanted to berate me, but my father stopped her. While I lay there silently I thought a lot. It was like there was this button in my brain that had been pushed. I felt like I was really finally open to the therapy and not subconciouslly trying to fight it. I was given a second chance in life and I had to use it and to get better and feel better with myself and my mental health. 

Roy is now 22 years old. He still struggles with his mental illness occasionally but he has a therapist and a great community around him, that help him through all of this.