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Emillee Goodwin Jan 2020
Nice to meet you

It’s not nice to meet you.
You’re just another one.

Another one what?
That’s ok, I’m just glad you came.

Another person to promise me things
Another person to let me down.
I didn’t want to.  

I know you didn’t want to.
I’m sorry people have let you down.
I can’t promise I won’t. I’ll do my best.

You want to know my life story
I have to repeat it again.
When will this stop. I hate you.

No, you tell me what you want.  
What do you need now?
You can hate me. But I don’t hate you.

I don’t want to take the pills.
They make my head foggy.
I need to sleep. I need food. I’m hungry.
Why don’t you hate me. Everyone else does.

Who is everyone?
I think you are very brave.
Why don’t you sleep then?
You are safe here.

Brave. How am I brave?
People are watching me.
I can’t sleep. Not safe.

Because you asked for help.
You are safe. I’m watching you yes.
To keep you safe. Here’s a sandwich.
Eat. Then sleep. Are you cold?

I don’t want to. You don’t get it.
I haven’t eaten for days. You are nice.
Not cold. But I haven’t showered for days.

Well shower. That’s your room.
I don’t get it. You are right
But I know you are exhausted.
Here are some clean clothes.
You are going to be ok. I promise

How do you know it’s going to be ok?
I am so tired. Will you watch me all night.
I’m scared.

I know you are. I’ll be here all night.
Lay down now. Tomorrow will be better.
It will get better.  You will get better.

I don’t hate you.
The sand which was good.
If you say so, I hope so.

Sleep well, goodnight.
Was just thinking of a conversation I once had with a patient who self presented. As a mental health nurse, its a conversation of many people on their first night in a mental health unit. So scared and lonely. If only we could show them their last day there so they could see that it wasn’t the end for them. Anyways, just a random thing.
Shahd Mar 2018
A slip of the foot morphed into
an excruciating plummet into a void.
Before YOU know it, everyone else does
and you're bandaged up and tucked in bed

You've snowballed. It was out of your hands.
The word "Inpatient" echoes in your head
and you can't help but wonder:
"What did my parents say?"

There you are, still disoriented.
You're prospected expectations have
naturally become an escalated reality.

Now you're flooded with more
Diag-Nonsese and counterproductive
There-****-me spouts and handouts.

I didn't go down the road this time,
so how did I get here? Oh yes,
the ultimate phrase indeed "It's going to
get better, you just have to be patient."
certifiednutcase Jan 2018
the antiseptic smell of
hospital corridors and
alcohol hand-rubs.

Why are you here again?

In one breath,
promise yourself never
ever do it again.

repeat from top

This vicious cycle of
in and outs,
When will i ever get
Alex Berthelot Feb 2017
to my family that doesn’t believe mental illness is real:

i sincerely hope you never get woken up in the dead of night
by a phone call from one of your precious girls, hundreds of
miles away from home, calling to tell you with a heart full
of pain yet a voice void of emotion, that she is so sorry
but she has to take all of her pills.

i hope you never find her so dissociated and confused,
walking in dangerous parts of town without a coat on,
in the snow, hoping someone would **** her or at the
very least she would freeze to death.

i hope you never have to plead with one of your girls
to not press the cold blade against her skin, or not
to put her neck through that noose she spent so much
time researching how to tie all while you’re desperately
trying to call an ambulance to her house, praying it will
get there in time.

i hope you never have to watch your child be escorted by
two cops from her room at the general hospital that she
was stuck in for nearly a week because her blood was so
poisoned from the lithium and her risk of seizure and
blood clots were so high, to be safely taken to a psych unit.

i hope you never have to watch your child be taken back
to a psych assessment room while you have to sit there
in the waiting room, pretending everything is okay all while
your heart is silently breaking into a million pieces because
your girl has been broken by abuse at another persons hand
and you couldn’t have stopped it from happening.

i hope you never have to see one of your girls get admitted
to a psych unit. one minute you walk in with your suicidal
child and 2 two hours later you walk out, but this time alone,
knowing that there is nothing you can do to ‘fix’ your hurting baby.

no mother or father wants this for their child.
and no person chooses to have mental illness.

do you really think i wanted to spend my high school years
in and out of the hospital?

i don’t think you understand the loneliness that comes
from being stuck there while your ‘friends’ are only
worrying about the next big test that was coming up.

i would have loved to only be worrying about that next test
but instead i was preoccupied with death, wanting nothing
more than to finally feel the pain draining from my body.

do you really think i enjoyed having to strip down naked,
no underwear or no bra, every day so the hospital staff
could make sure i wasn’t still hurting myself?
i felt like i was being violated all over again.

do you really think i enjoyed having to sleep on a mattress
on the floor with the lights on so hospital staff could watch
me to make sure i didn’t **** myself?

i hated being in the hospital.
and i was terrified knowing that when i got out i had to
find the strength to walk back into school with a smile
on my face despite knowing that i would have to see
my abuser walking the same hallways everyday.

you don’t know my story. it’s none of your business.
but since you have felt the need to pass judgment
on my family and i, i thought i would let you know
that your ignorance is a death sentence to some,
not me, i’m learning to deal with my dark thoughts,
but to others who aren’t fortunate enough to have the
support and resources that i do,
it sends them straight to their graves.

mental illness is real,
and the stigma that ignorance creates, kills.

and i hope that if one of your children is
ever plagued by an illness similar to mine,
that they feel comfortable enough coming to you.
and if not, i hope they feel comfortable coming to
me. i will lend a non judgmental, compassionate ear.
because the only thing that ever talked me off the edge
all of those dark, cold and lonely nights was just that:
Eileen Xu Oct 2016
I feel
Dizzy bodied dizzy mind
Busy bodied to pass the time
Empty bodied empty mind.

I feel
A dulling ache beneath my veins
A seismic quake inside my brain
Collateral damage and no remains
Stay still -
And watch it wash like waves
Your cave, safe haven torn away

It plays -
In the places you called home
The heart that stutters between your bones
Silent, slowly, no-one knows.
The blows and bruises on your skin
It always finds some other way in
To make you feel
I feel.
Racquel Tio Jun 2016
at night I miss my sickness
because at least then
my life had a purpose
Paris Elizabeth May 2015
27th October, 2014
So tonight, I'm either going to overdose or email. I could potentially die, or at least cause a lot of pain to my body, or I could not. And I could email and pull myself together. Do I want to? Yes. But i want to see what happens from this overdose first.

Do i pull myself together?

Or do i die?

Why is this question so hard to answer?

I woke up this morning, determined to die today. I had multiple plans. Then I had a nap. Woke up from dads phone call at around 11am. Woke up in a better mood and had the thought "how will i ever get out of this labyrinth - straight and fast". I was determined to recover.

Now im drunk and can taste blood and am questioning life once again.

Oh god.

31st October, 2014
I nearly died I nearly died

I'm out of hospital again, another overdose from a couple days ago

An overdose that left me with short term brain damage and the inability to walk

And I nearly died

I nearly died

In hospital, I had a dream, and in the dream I was in the emergency department of hospital with an iv attached to me. I went to my room to lay down on my bed, and another patient - a girl - walked in and laid down on the couch beside the bed. she was asking me questions and we had a conversation, and slowly it started to morph into the actual room - and she was laying in one of the shelves beside my bed‏.
i sat up and asked her why she was in hospital and she went completely silent and started picking at the paint of the shelf above her‏
then i was staring at her‏

and i blinked and she was gone - my clothes were arranged so it looked like she was using some as a pillow - the rest were gone‏
and then i walked out and i was losing the plot like i was completely insane man i heard voices and could sense people around me and i figured out that the girl WAS ME. SHE WAS ALL MY PROBLEMS IN THE FORM OF A PERSON. and all these people ended up convincing me that everyone in the hospital was dead. they said i had to join them. i knew i was going to die. i freaked out for a solid half hour because i knew everyone was dead and then i kind of just accepted it and walked into my room, where i laid down on my back and waited for my death‏
but then they were silent‏
and i ended up falling asleep‏

this morning the nurse walked into my room and told me i had a call from my friend - it was ruby and the phone said 9:30 am. Then my roommate kinda woke up and peered around the corner to see me and i was like "gosh you had a good sleep in" and i was sitting up talking and then i realised the phone wasn't in my hand. so i was like "crap i dropped it" and i searched for a good ten minutes- turned all my sheets upside down. No phone. My roommate was still asleep. It was 6:30 am. i spoke to the nurse, who told me she didn't bring in a phone.
This was October, last year, when I lost the plot, overdosed and was put back into hospital. These are my notes before and after the admission.
For my sister who is not biologically my sister.
For my sister who has helped me through so much.
You, the beautiful creature who has time and time again cleaned my blood off the bathroom floor, bandaged my wrists, and stayed up all night to keep me alive.
You, the magnificent woman who gets put down everyday.

For my sister who is not legally my sister.
You, who has been more maternal and has shown me more love than my own mother ever has.
Who has stuck her fingers down my throat and made me wretch up the bottle of pills that I swallowed because I thought they would take me to a place that would make me happy.
You who has loved me more than I love myself.

For my sister who’s favorite type of alcohol is *****.
You who drinks it not because you love the taste, but because you drink it for the punishing bitter taste of it.
You who drinks it to forget your father who never really acted like a father.

For my sister who starves herself every day because her mother told her that she would prettier if she was thinner.
You who is the most loving person I know, that does not think she is worthy of love.
You, the most empowering person I know, who cannot empower herself right now.

For my sister who is currently lying in a hospital bed right now because I was not there for her.
You look so thin and fragile among the blankets and IV tubes. If you were conscious right now, you would say that you look like a lesbian in your hospital gown.
For the teenage girl who has seen more of hell than she has heaven, and still manages to be an angel to everyone she meets.

For my sister who is not in any way, shape or form related to me.
You have been more of family to me than I will ever know.
Copyright © 2015 by Kathleen McSweeney
Nicole Elise Jul 2014
It's funny how the little things
Like breakfast for dinner
With your best friends
Or playing hide and seek
At ten o'clock
Under fluorescent lights
Can make your life significantly better.
With every laugh
I felt my body smiling
I felt my cheeks reddening with joy
And I felt my soul being warmed
By the best company. It doesn't matter
Where you are;
Fast food at midnight,
Huddled in a seated car,
Sitting on plush carpets next to
A roaring fire,
Talking, writing, laughing, ranting, it's the company,
It's knowing that people trust you
With their secrets,
Care enough to make you smile,
Want you to be with them-
That's what matters.
Saturday night
I laughed until I cried.
For the first time
In days
I felt connected-
I felt wanted and loved, and most of all,
For once,
I felt happy.
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