almost.
They did keep me locked in a room until they realized that I wasn’t drunk (they took blood) and I wasn’t thinking of suicide.
No, but I have had some Suicidal Tendencies.
I asked my mom, “Why don’t ya give me a Pepsi?”
She goes, “No, you’re on drugs!”
I go, “Mom, I’m okay, I’m just thinking.”
She goes, “No, you’re not thinking, you’re on drugs!
Normal people don’t act in that way!”
I go, “Mom, just give me a Pepsi please,
All I want is a Pepsi.”
And she wouldn’t give it to me!
All I wanted was a Pepsi!
Just one Pepsi!
And she wouldn’t give it to me!
Ahem. Sorry, couldn’t resist.
usual cheerful humor><heart-attack seriousness>Yes. Three days. August 1996. Severe depression that culminated in an incident with a utility knife and the soft skin on the undersides of my forearms.
Yes, Prozac really does make it better sometimes.</heart-attack seriousness><usual cheerful humor>
Ten days in May, 1986, after I tried to commit suicide by overdosing on Tylenol. Hey, it was extra strength. Of course, this was preceded by three months in which I became emotionally involved with a packet of razor blades. One would become too dull to make a decent cut, it would be discarded in favor of a new one…
I still have about thirty scars on my forearm.
Anyhoo, I was given a book called “Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am?”. It was your basic seventies pop psychology self-help tripe. Fifteen minutes a day with the shrink, a prescription for Navane. An anti-psychotic, for what basicaly amounted to severe depression…
Group therapy, which was useless.
I basically learned to play the game, help clean up the ward each night, pretend to be sociable, all the crap that gets you sprung early. Lost two weeks wages that I couldn’t afford (I was working for minimum wage at the time. I lived in a studio apartment that cost $250/mo, utilities included).
My health insurance covered less than half of the $2000+ bill. My parents helped me with the rest. Actually, I was nineteen at the time, which means that they were legally obligated to pay all of my medical costs, but never mind. My mom had told me that they would pay what my insurance wouldn’t cover, basically to get me to sign myself in, but once I got out, it became apparent that she had no intention of keeping her promise. My stepfather finally offered to pay 90%, I paid the other 10%.
I did spend about 4 months at a Ranch, a “Home” for troubled teenagers. That is, until they kicked me out.
TeeHee…HeeHee…Hee…
Other than that, I had the phone number of the local “mental health ward” memorized, thanks to one friend being carted off there twice, another 3 friends spending time there as well.
Sometimes I consider sending myself somewhere…just for fun…mess with the docs and the patients…
Hee…HeeHee…
Maybe they should have left me locked up…all that stuff I repressed to keep them from taking me away, is all bubbling up now.
I WILL be soon, even though I’ve been clean and sober for over 100 days now the judge wants me to go to rehab because I (stupidly) admitted I have a problem (tell the truth in court and get SCREWED for it!!!). I hoping to get away with outpatient.
douglips beat me to the ST quote… but for great lyrics concerning suicide no one beats SENTENCED!
NP: Solitude Aeturnus - Adagio
Not me… my brother almost was though and he was an out-patient for one of those kids programs at the Children’s hospital awhile ago… his main problem was he just needed structure though… I realized that ages ago but it took forever for people to figure that out… especially Mom rolls her eyes I love Mom but she isn’t the best parent in the world… sometimes I think she’s a little deluded too or maybe it’s just that the social worker people kept shoving stuff at her and she put her own spin on things in her mind and came up with a bunch of junk.
I was never institutionalized but I did end up bouncing around some psych people before I just refused to go because a lot of them were terrible. And Jonathan yah I know they hate us having a fantasy life… the last psych guy I went to when I mentioned I enjoyed role playing and being online the first thing he said was that I should give it up. Then he started to go into why I love role playing and the main one he came up with was that I wanted to escape my life and he decided it was bad. I refused to give it up though (plus Mom had no clue about computers so she wouldn’t take it apart or anything for fear of wrecking it) and I never went to see him again… I got flack from the school councillow for that though but I ignored that as well.
I’ve never been institutionalized, but I had at least 5 friends who were sent to this same place. All but one came out with his/her life completely turned around.
Not yet, but I’m thinking about it.
Arts and Crafts and some nice sleepy drugs sound pretty good.
Sleepy drugs are goody rolleyes
my fav side effects of anti psychotics are sleepiness and that they make it impossible to climax - but that doesnt bother you when you are on them - cause you cant even get yourself to go to school… sex is out of the question
february… tic tic tic tic… I am almost clean…
SSRI good bye!!!
I ve got tons and tons of friends in the bin -
it is nice to visit them in the youth ward - cause there is always something weird going on. Like when I was there last some had jumped out of the first floor windows to escape -
but they were caught and spent some time fastened to their beds. Bad luck for them: Good luck for the rest of the ppl cause the annoying ones couldnt get on their nerves that day.
On weekend they were allowed to go to the shoppingcentre (half-open) so they went to H&M and stole as much as they could. So those whos rents forgot to send money had new clothes hehe
dodgy
Open grave- congrats on your 100 days, I was thinking about you the other day!
Don’t worry if they want in sober living for a while, no big woop. Full-on rehab seems a little ridiculous, but they are in charge.
On to me- Yes, jail & rehab. Lovely stays, enjoyed them SO MUCH.
Better now.