Her

On December 12th I broke. I was tired of the bill collectors calling. Tired of not getting paid my worth. Tired of being broke. Tired of taking care of 8 other people. Tired of always being the one everyone called on. Tired of the thoughts in my head. Tired of not being able to sleep. Tired of not liking myself. Tired of feeling unwanted, unloved and unappreciated. I was just tired.

I sat at my desk and I just broke down. I cried uncontrollably. My heart was broken. I was broken. No one knew. I couldn't work. I couldn't think. I couldn't... live. I mentioned to my co-workers the day before that I felt manic. I was overjoyed at life. It felt too good.

When earlier that week I told them I didn't want to live. No one took me serious. They didn't hear me; they never listened.

There were so many times I couldn't function at work. I couldn't concentrate. I couldn't focus. I couldn't stop crying. Things that day were different though.
If I didn't get help I would kill myself. My young kids would be devastated. I hurt just thinking of what I would leave behind yet I knew life, no matter how hard it would be, it would go on.

I called my doctors office and said, "I need help. I don't think I can do this anymore. I want to die". She told me to come in. My regular doctor didn't care. I didn't want to see her, so they had me see a telemed doctor.

With tears in my eyes I told my boss I had to leave, His response was simply 'take care'.
I cried the whole way. I thought about running into trucks, crashing into cars... driving over bridges.
My mind was racing.
It was the longest ride ever.

When I got to the Doctors, they saw me as soon as I got there. The doctor asked questions and this time I was honest. I did want to kill myself and I had a plan.
She called for the nurse. After about 10 min of silence they told me I had to go to the hospital and had me see a therapist. All over again I'm answering the same questions. She said a sheriff was on the way to transport me.

What? A sheriff? Am I that bad off? I convinced her to call my daughter and let me go home. I'll go to the hospital. I had to tell my kids. I had to say goodbye.

The ride home I cried. I couldn't believe I was here. I went to my sisters and found out I'd have to be re-evaluated and they'd see if I needed to be admitted. I knew if I didn't I would die. I went home and went to sleep.

The next morning I called my doctors and told them I needed to admit myself. They told me to come at 11. I checked in. I had to take out my piercings and count my tattoos. It felt like jail.

They started me on my medication and then it was time for snack. Breakfast, lunch, dinner and 2 snacks everyday. Sleep. Take my meds. Pray. That was it. I prayed. Prayed that God help me. That's all I needed was His help.

After 5 days of the same they reluctantly released me. I went home to what I felt was the same LIFE. How could I deal?

Well today, January 28th I tell you how I deal. I realize life is what it is. You can only control you and who you surround yourself with. I don't answer the calls. I don't always says yes. And when I do say yes, it's only because I wanted to.

I am in control of my life. I am in school and soon will become a doula. I'm not where I need to be but I'm not where I was. God help me everyday is my prayer. I know things will get better.

My thoughts aren't real and I am not who I see.

Mental health is a real thing. It's a struggle for people daily. It's ok to ask for help. It's ok to cry out. It's ok help.
Non of this makes people crazy.
It makes you human.