Bakeracted...

...sectioned, formed, locked up! Whatever you want to call it, they imprisoned me for 3 days, a week ago friday, because I overdosed and cut my wrists. Couldn't even do that properly (sorry for the gory imagery, skip the rest of this paragraph if you're easily triggered), I cut deep enough to surprise myself, I could see the vein trying to bulge out of the wound. I felt relief, until I realised that it wasn't actually punctured, sick eh? So, I took the knife and dug it into the vein, which promptly made it bleed more, but it didn't spurt or anything, so I knew I'd done it wrong. I have a deep cringe factor about wrist cutting, because it's not fleshy, I imagine the blade scraping against bone, I don't like the feel of the blade on that part of my arm, bc it's all lumpy and bumpy with veins etc and the skin is just... different there, thin and, I don't know. But, anyway.. it started to coagulate really quickly. I was so bummed, I'd wanted to do this by just cutting my wrists and taking a few sedatives and falling asleep, never to wake up again.. yes, by 'this', I mean kill myself :( I just can't handle it anymore)

So, I had taken a bunch of xanax and imovane and cesemet, which is a pill made up with the same chemical in pot, heh (and they took the whole bottle off me :| wasn't even mine!). I was kind of stunned by the blood, my partner heard me crying hysterically.. and I broke down because my drugs didn't come in the mail on time, how fucked up is that?? Then I just decided that I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't wait for drugs to come in the mail my whole life, I couldn't be away from my family anymore, I just couldn't do life. Anyway, not knowing I took pills, she promptly sent me off to the hospital, and made me promise I'd go straight there. I was quite obedient, actually. Luckily, the pills hadn't kicked in enough to impair my driving, because I wasn't in the right frame of mind to decide for myself if I should be driving or not, I was told to, so I did.

I took more pills in the car, once I'd gotten there. I wanted to make it harder for them to save me. When I went in, I figured I'd be waiting for hours, but they took me straight through. I was sneaking more pills in every time they turned their backs. They tried getting me to drink charcoal.. Get this, obviously I didn't want to drink it, I tasted it, fucking GROSS, tastes just like you'd imagine charcoal would taste, chalky, chalky and DISGUSTING! So, I poured some into the puke bowl.. it didn't look real, so I actually purged, on an empty stomach, into the puke thing, so that it looked real :s The nurse said it'd still work, hah.

So, they did a bunch of tests n took blood and stuff. Took me to medical, cleared me to go to the crisis section and stuck me in a room with two hospital chairs, the four legged hard kind and two blankets, I proceeded to take my last handful of pills - they'd already taken the huge bottle of cesemet, but I had extra shoved in my bra. I remember taking them, then looking up and laughing because there were camera's watching me :s oops.. I put the 2 chairs together (those fuckers are heavy! I guess they make them weighted so you can't hurt yourself with them) and laid out the blanket and called rogers because I wanted data to go online! Like, wtf was I thinking?? Clearly, I wasn't! I was slurring all over the place. All of a sudden I began to feel... green. I put the phone down and attempted to walk out of the room. A couple of staff came at me, I fell over and they made me sit on a chair, but I couldn't sit up straight, next thing I know, I'm on a hospital bed and they're trying to shove food into me, like WTF!?!? They were asking me if I was diabetic! No, I overdosed you fucking fool. The doctor came and woke me up, hey I was fine sleeping, thank you! The moment I opened my eyes, I would feel really fucking ill. I guess they looked back on the camera's and saw me take more pills and thought it was because of that, they didn't realise I'd been taking pills all day. They took me back to medical. Things are kinda blurry from here...
The older nurses were bitches, I needed the loo and they pointed it out, offered no help, mind you they're filling me with fluids and I can barely walk, so I need to pee often! So they brought me a fucking zimmerframe/walker thing, which I fell over on. Two older nurses come over to help me and I hear one say to the other, 'why do they do these things to themselves', like wtf would YOU know!?! Like, just IMAGINE for ONE second how I must be FEELING inside to actually DO this to myself!?! But, I was too out of it to respond.

Renee (my partner) came the next morning, I think, coz I'd called her and begged her to come. Poor girl, I ended up sleeping most of the time she was there. I made her get me food, because I was ravenous, I told her to bring me food, she brought me a peanut butter sandwich and some fibre bars, but that wasn't enough.. I made her go to the tims in the hospital and get me whatever they had, she brought back some home made pizza thing and a tea biscuit, I had her bring me chocolate (I don't EAT chocolate!), I was eating things that I would never eat, that I didn't like, bc I was a bottomless fucking pit. Well, needless to say, I promptly puked it all up, not 2 mins after I was done... and it wasn't self induced! But, I'm glad it came up all the same =/ Renee later told me, that one of the older nurses took her aside and asked her, 'do you know her well, because she just chucked all that food up' (renee had gone to the toilet), I had barely managed to grab a walmart bag, throw my dirty clothes out of it and puke into that, so I guess she figured I did it on purpose. Would she rather have cleaned it all up from the bed and the floors?? Hmmm.

I shouldn't bitch, they're just doing their jobs.. but they're not supposed to judge. The younger nurses were a lot nicer and more understanding.

Anyway, that same morning, I woke up to a nurse telling me, 'you've been formed' and points at a form on my table. So I look at it and see that I'm being held for 72 hours and possibly longer. I'm like FUCK.

I ended up having to stay another night, so I think I was there 2 nights and 3 days.

So anyway, I got a few therapy sessions (5 or less, heh thanks, what do you think that's gonna do for me!?! I need long term therapy ffs!) and an appt. with a psychiatrist next month. He did his psychiatric assessment in 5 mins flat. Wtf does he think he can find out about me in 5 mins!??? The system is fucked.

Well, now I have to get my meds daily again, I can't get my methadone once a week like I did before, bc they're afraid that I'll OD. Great. I wouldn't OD on my meth anyways, bc IF it didn't work, I'd be fucked and sick. And I have to get all my other meds daily too. Great. Really makes you want to reach out and ask for help. I mean, my goal was to die, but still.

I get a weeks worth of valium at a time, instead of a months, but I can save those. And I have access to Renee's meds. And I just found a big bottle of seroquel the other day (THE biggest reason for my binge relapse and all this fucking disgusting weight gain!! So, maybe it can help me out in getting out of this shit pit. A friend of mine almost very successfully OD'd on seroquel, it's a heavy sedative, so I think I have enough, coupled with imovane and xanax. I can just go to sleep... and..not..wake..up..sighs.

I hate my life so much right now, I hate my thoughts, my head, my everything. I love my son, but he clearly loves his momma more, kids just *know* who their mums are, especially if they're breastfed. So, he'll just forget about me. It's my little brother I'm most guilty about, I feel so guilty for leaving him just to come to Canada, to leave him forever, I'd probably fuck him right up, but.. I mean, he hardly sees me anyway, so he won't miss me as much, right? =/

Fuckit!!! I just don't know anymore.

Help me?