The beginning of January was a rough one for me. On New Year’s Eve, I was in a deep depression. I went to a party at my friend’s house and stayed from 6pm to 8pm. I was having a panic attack there because there were too many people. So, I went home and went to bed around 9pm… missing the countdown for the new year.

I had started getting very nervous because I wouldn’t see my nurse practitioner for 12 days, and I knew I needed to switch up my medications. I was having panic attacks at work, going into work with tears in my eyes. My managers were understanding though. It was the night of January 2nd when I had a plan to strangle myself with the belt on my bathroom floor. By January 3rd, I knew it was time to get help, and I went to the emergency room that evening.

The nurse at the emergency room took me back into triage right away to take my vitals. A few minutes later they gave me a bed in the hallway of the ER by the nurses station. The medical doctor came to see me, then the phlebotomist, then the social worker. The social worker talked to me and had decided to admit me to the psych unit there. I was hesitant, but I agreed.

It was about 1am by the time I got to the unit. The intake staff interviewed me, and then the overnight nurse did a body check and vitals. I just wanted to go to bed. I got to my room finally, and fell right to sleep.

The next morning, I heard laughter and talking in the day room. I was scared to go out there and meet everyone, but I decided it was time. I was hungry and I needed my morning medication. I walked out into the day room and saw the women on the unit. They all said they loved my blue hair and my golden glasses! I wasn’t so scared anymore.

I made friends fast. That was good, since I’d be on the unit for a few days… or so I thought! My whole stay ended up being 12 days total! Which, looking back, is what I needed.

There was a girl in her 20’s who was very in tune with her feelings and working hard at recovery. She reminded me of me! There was another woman about my age who thought there were cameras in her glasses and that people were spying on her. Another one of the girls there had shot herself in the mouth a few months back, and she had half dentures to cover up the hole in her jaw. I didn’t know her story until the last day or two that she was there. All I knew was that she wanted to quit drinking, and she was the sweetest young lady! Then there was a free-spirited artist on the unit. She would dance like no one was watching in the gym, and she had the most beautiful singing voice. And, then there was the quirky young woman on the unit. She had a lot of energy and never got angry; one of those who was always smiling.

The girls and I had fun there. We played Uno and bingo. We watched The Lion King, and other movies. We all talked during mealtimes. It was a good group of women, which made my stay there as enjoyable as a psych unit could be.

My nurse practitioner there was the nicest psychiatric practitioner I’ve ever met! I was lucky to have gotten one who really cared that much and spent that much time with me. We added an antidepressant to my med regimen, which she said would help both the depression and panic attacks.

I’ve been home for a week now and so far I’ve felt little to no anxiety, and no depression! Whatever the meds are doing for me is working. I don’t know about anyone else but, for me, medication is absolutely necessary. I need it to survive and thrive in my life. I don’t know if I’d even be alive today if I didn’t have my meds to help boost my brain chemistry! Of course, I also do the work as far as therapy and just overall self-care. Medication can only do so much.

It’s January 23rd now… 20 days since I had the plan to kill myself. That day seems like forever ago! I’m lucky to have gotten the help I needed at the time. And I’m so grateful that I drove myself to the ER that night.

Mental illness is no joke. There are a lot of factors that play into it, and it can be serious. Sure, I had a lot of fun with the women on the psych unit, but I always remembered that I was there for myself first. It’s always got to be me first when it comes to my mental health. I’m so glad I’m here on this earth today and to be able to say that. I love myself and I’ll keep fighting.

Sending love and light, Kel.