Melinda shared a letter in the Mental Health group 1 week, 5 days ago
Where do I begin
At the end I suppose.
I came home and walked to my medicine drawer to grab the medication
I usually drink nightly. I take the bottle and take one. I then decide to take all the bottle. I let some fall in, then all.
I am not sure if I came in knowing I wanted to or already had a plan
I head inside the closet and I texted the ones I loved and made myself comfortable
What made me do it? Why that particular day?
I wait and hear my daughter screams
I am led out
I call out to her
I get into the ambulance
And they ask me if I intended to die
I said yes, and if I had my Xanax I would take that too
I feel the prick of the needle in my vein
I don’t remember what happened after that
I wake up the next morning and I am in the hospital
Knowing what I did
Not knowing why I chose to do it
I am babysat
Day and night
I don’t know how long I was out
I look at these people and I see pity
I am placed in another vehicle and driven to the next stop
I am greeted by an African American man, Dan
He seems nice.
He has me sit and wait what seems like hours, he calls me in to another room and I wait some more. I have no thoughts at this time, not a single one.
Finally I am taken to my room with all white walls and two beds. I am not wearing undergarments and no shoes. I am not allowed to have anything on me. A sweet older woman who will be my roommate says hello and walks away with a slight smile. I am alone again.
In an empty room I cry for my mother
For my children
For everything lost
I cry for myself and the mess I have become.
I cry for my love that loves me no more
I cry for the time wasted on things that I genuinely could not control.
I cry why life is the way it is and why I was dealt this hand.
I cry because I have to let Addie go, she is not real, she has led me to where I am now.
In the mental hospital bed I cry.
I lay there and ask myself, “ Why didn’t you use an easier way.”
I cry and cry a river of what ifs yet all remains the same.
In that hospital bed, nothing changed. Does it ever?
It does. It takes a process and you need to be strong enough to endure everything that comes your way.
You need to be enough for yourself for those you love, from the littlest things to the things that make the world turn round.
You have to be enough to ride the tide that will definitely sway you from side to side, make you nauseous and make you want to give up.
be ready for that one, it’s a doozie.
You will break your children’s heart, the heart of the one that got away, and your family
You will break your own heart many times over trying to get better when you think you cant.
you can, you will, keep at it girl
Your momma didn’t raise a quitter but a fighter.
Pick up your big girl chones and you’re mental ammunition and conquer this torrential storm and find the calm within it.
Don’t give up.
Melinda. I read this and I see so much strength. I am sorry for what you are going through. But it takes courage to fight to get better and it takes even more courage to tell people about it.
One thing I know for sure about life, is it’s always changing. You may fell like your story isn’t progressing. But you’re just to close to it. Every day you are fighting, so every day you, at your own speed, you are changing the direction of your future.
You ARE already “enough.” You are strong and you can do this – one day, one thought, one word at a time.
I have got your back and I believe in you (and I am sure I am not the only one).
Keep fighting. You are a warrior ! Sending you so much love and a VERY big hug <3 Lauren
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