little susie ([info]icumblood) wrote,
@ 2009-03-18 20:42:00
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Current location:yolo fucking county
Current mood: numb
Current music:mazzy star

nyeh
so i forget what day they admitted me, but i went to the hospital. they discharged me after three days.

"for your age, you have the most damaged liver i have ever seen."

they gave me librium - a detox drug. they sent me back to the place id been secretly drinking alone for maybe a month, maybe a little bit less. a sober living house. ive mentioned it before.

i told them i didnt feel safe going back there. that if i went back there i knew id drink. sure as shit or a zig-zagged stitch in a quilt or a piece of fabric that could become one. why does there need to be a reason?

when someone knows something, crazy or sad or unreliable might they be, they know it. it doesnt mean you should trust or believe them. but give them the credit of not trusting or believing themselves, and look them in the eyes. you will probably be able to tell if they are full of shit or if they arent.

most people transported from hospitals to psych wards arent choosing to do so. sometimes when a person distrusts their own ability to keep themselves safe, sometimes when their insurance wont comply with what they sortof think they might they need, AGAIN, then they are left to their own devices.

these devices are pills and a quart of what makes her liver, despite her age, close to failing.

call it what you want. chart it as you must. it was me wanting to die and it was me failing. what angel and i would call a TOTAL CFH (cry for help).

didnt work. does anything?


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[info]tibbie_x
2009-03-19 03:53 pm UTC (link)
did you have a roomate in the psych ward? mine stood over me telling me I was going to hell over an over while I twitched and sweat with the dt's and went into violent spazms off xanex and oxy. its was a GREAT time.

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[info]icumblood
2009-03-19 06:52 pm UTC (link)
when i first got to the ward (ive been in psych wards before - let's call them "classier" than this particular one) it was around 7:30 at night. my roommate was a meth head who had been asleep. when i turned the light on to put my things away, she screamed at me, called me an ugly tattooed bitch and said that if i flushed the toilet or turned the bathroom light on during any time when she was asleep, she would literally kill me.

"i'd sleep with one eye open if i were you."

soooo because part of my failed 'attempt' had to do with quite recently being repeatedly raped and almost killed, i went to the nurses and said "i don't really feel comfortable rooming with a woman who has made death threats toward me within my first 2 minutes of arriving". they acted like i was a big, fussy pain in the ass, but they relocated me.

my second roommate was a gigantically overweight woman who hoarded food, ate it constantly, and woke me up with seriously epic farts. i have never heard a woman fart like this, and i know me some nasty bitches. OH! i also woke up several times to find her sitting in a chair facing my bed and watching me sleep. she never spoke a single word to me.

THEN, then my life was saved. the adorable girl in the casualties shirt finally got up the nerve to strike up a conversation with me. one of those, "you look familiar, do i know you? maybe i've seen you at a show or something..."

i'm not very talkative or sociable at all, much less in psych wards, believe it or not given how i rant on the internet. but i decided, what the hell. she's adorable and feisty and throws chairs at people when they piss her off - i like her. so i made my best efforts at conversation, and then we got to talking about our creepy roommates and we were cracking each other up. then she brightened up and said "MINE'S BEING DISCHARGED TODAY! LET'S ROOM TOGETHER!"

we werent sure theyd let us, but praise be to fuck-all, they did. we became super besties and now that we are both free women we text each other and continue to entertain one another with our crazy, stupid lives. i told her that her new punk rock name was attiv annie because of how many times they had to drug her when she, ahem, threw tantrums.

i miss her : (

oh, speaking of xanax, they gave me 30 .5's of that and 30 1mg's of klonopin along with a scrip for prozac upon discharge. needless to say, ive almost run through the xanax and klonopin. sigh.

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[info]tibbie_x
2009-03-19 09:25 pm UTC (link)
pretty fucked up to put you in with a potential violent maniac after what happened to you.I remember everything , everything seeming so fucked and cruel after not dying its like a joke, like seriously? I stayed alive for this shit? and ah yes, there was an extremely obese overeater in the ward when I was there and on new years (I offed myself the night before x-mas) a cool girl punk singer came flying in detoxing off heroin and we became bff. She even came to rehab w me and we roomed together but she never got clean.
I used to take xanex in doses of small handful vs bigger handful. Personally Id chuck the prozac. i posted a private lj entry if you wanna rant on it. Im a little jealous of the chair thrower I always wanted to do that.

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