Crazy Beautiful
I Hear The Clock, It's Six A.M.
December 8th, 2008. That was my wake-up call moment. I was in at a follow up appointment with my primary care Doc and he was asking me how I was doing. I got so tired of lying that I finally told him the truth. Then he said seven words that terrified me to the core: by law, I have to stop you. All because I had admitted to having hurt myself (it’d been two months time since I last had) and that I still had thoughts of wanting to kill myself. He asked me if I would drive myself to the hospital and I flat out told him, if you let me leave, I won’t go, I don’t think I need to. So he called in for an escort—one without police.
I sat in the exam room for about twenty minutes, the door cracked so the nurses at the desk across the hall could hear/see if anything were to happen. I simply sat there—I was helpless to do anything but. I remember thinking, this is exactly why I didn’t want help, this would happen, this was why I lied. The two EMT’s that came to pick me up were both big guys but that’s not what bothered me—they treated me like I was fragile, and the looks I got as I was escorted out to the ambulance out front, I hated it. It was humiliating.
We got to the hospital, small talk with the EMT that sat in the back with me. I refused to be strapped down on the gurney, I was not injured; I didn’t need to add to current insult. I called my Ma’s work, left a message with their office secretary that I was being taken to the hospital. My initial thought as the ambulance stopped and I climbed down—what if my ex or his fiancé are working in the ER today? I followed the EMT in through the doors and we stood at the counter. Once one of the nurses asked why I was there, her eyes widened a miniscule bit, and then it was a race of who could tell who the fastest. More looks I never wanted directed at me.
One of the nurses, after a half-hour wait, approached me and the EMT and led us back to one of the small halls in the corner. The EMT told me he was proud of me for doing this and not following through—did anyone understand the notion of I had those thoughts, I hadn’t actually done anything?! The nurse grabbed a small tray and a gown and told me to strip down to my underwear and everything else I had, it had to be placed in the tray. The room I was in was a 12x12 cement block. It was freezing, a camera sat in the corner and in a silver cabinet behind the bed, I knew that’s where the restraints were. As she took my belongings away and shut the door behind her, I wished I had just kept on lying.
I sat in the exam room for about twenty minutes, the door cracked so the nurses at the desk across the hall could hear/see if anything were to happen. I simply sat there—I was helpless to do anything but. I remember thinking, this is exactly why I didn’t want help, this would happen, this was why I lied. The two EMT’s that came to pick me up were both big guys but that’s not what bothered me—they treated me like I was fragile, and the looks I got as I was escorted out to the ambulance out front, I hated it. It was humiliating.
We got to the hospital, small talk with the EMT that sat in the back with me. I refused to be strapped down on the gurney, I was not injured; I didn’t need to add to current insult. I called my Ma’s work, left a message with their office secretary that I was being taken to the hospital. My initial thought as the ambulance stopped and I climbed down—what if my ex or his fiancé are working in the ER today? I followed the EMT in through the doors and we stood at the counter. Once one of the nurses asked why I was there, her eyes widened a miniscule bit, and then it was a race of who could tell who the fastest. More looks I never wanted directed at me.
One of the nurses, after a half-hour wait, approached me and the EMT and led us back to one of the small halls in the corner. The EMT told me he was proud of me for doing this and not following through—did anyone understand the notion of I had those thoughts, I hadn’t actually done anything?! The nurse grabbed a small tray and a gown and told me to strip down to my underwear and everything else I had, it had to be placed in the tray. The room I was in was a 12x12 cement block. It was freezing, a camera sat in the corner and in a silver cabinet behind the bed, I knew that’s where the restraints were. As she took my belongings away and shut the door behind her, I wished I had just kept on lying.