It’s 2:15 AM, and I suddenly hear a loud knock on the door. I’m petrified, and walk slowly to the door.
A flashlight shines in my eye. I see two policemen in front of the door.
“Open up,” one of them said.
Paranoid, I asked them, “What are you doing here?”
“Someone called us.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Someone. About pills.” I instantly knew my brother was trying to kill himself again. Two years earlier I had saved him from killing himself in the same manner.
I opened the door, and two policemen came through the door. I had to hold back my dog from jumping on them.
Right now, there are 4 policemen outside of my room, and I just want them to go away. I can’t deal with this any more.
There are anti-depressant drugs, therapy and numerous other options.
After this calms down, grab a phone and call your local mental health clinic.
First get your brother taken care of, and then make sure you are ok. Stress can do serious damage, and it sounds like you are in the midst of a serious crisis. Seriously…don’t just think of your brother right now…take care of yourself right now.
I’m not sure this is quite fair, although I can see how it looks bad. Perhaps the poster was–very wisely–staying out of the way of medical and law enforcement personell, was standing frustrated and anxious waiting to see how things are going to turn out this time, and felt the need to reach out to someone. It wouldn’t surprise me if the SDMB were the most immediately available community where (s)he could express some emotions and ask for some support in the few minutes that nothing useful could be done. That’s the way I interpreted it, anyway.