A Week
It's been a week since I answered a knock on my door and opened it to 3 policemen. They asked me to step out of the house and talk to them. They asked if I was having problems and if I'd threatened to commit suicide. I'd made the "mistake?" of emailing a friend to say goodbye and he, after not being able to reach me by phone, called the police. I told the police that I was having problems and had planned on committing suicide. They "suggested" I come with them to get some help. I didn't want to go, but they insisted. I was dressed in gym shorts, a sleeveless t-shirt, and flip-flops and told them I needed to change clothes. They said what I was wearing was alright, but I told them I never left the house in what I was wearing.(I do have a little concern about how I look in public.) So they allowed me to change into jeans and a shirt. They placed me in a squad car and we went to the Mental Health-Mental Retardation center. When we got there, the mhmr people took my personal information, and arranged for me to speak with a doctor in a video conference and it was decided I'd spend the night in the center so I could have another session with the doctor the next day. They allowed me to call my cousin so she could take care of Foxy. Then, I waited in the observation room. My cousin called my little sister who lives in another town and lil' sis called big sis in California. I got a call from my big sis who was frantic, late in the afternoon and I told her what had happened and I'd be spending the night in the local center for more evaluation. About an hour and a half after the call, I was told I would be taken to the state mental hospital about a hundred miles from home, but they had to wait for beds to be opened.(There was another guy with me who had tried the same thing.) It was after my call with my big sis, that my family lost contact with me and couldn't get any information about me. (It was after the hospital made arrangements for my cousin to pick me up at the bus station that my family knew where I was.) We left Waco about 8 o'clock and got to the hospital about 10. We waited in the processing room where they gave us a sack lunch.(They feed you good at least. We had 2 sack lunches and a regular meal that day.) I waited another 2 hours after talking to the doctor and finally got to my housing area. The walk was scary. There were locked doors about every 50 feet or so and when I got to the area, the door was locked behind me. I was assigned to a bed in a room shared with 4 other men. The bed seemed to be an army cot and after an hour of tuning out a guy who was talking to himself and another who's snoring could wake the dead, I fell asleep. At 7 that morning I met my fellow patients and began an experience I will never forget. It seems like yesterday that all this happened. I will keep my wristband and bus ticket home to remind me of what I went through and the people I met.(As if I could ever forget it.) I'm slowly finding ways to make my life simpler, cheaper, and better. And I will never forget how my family supported me in my time of extreme need.
Replies