Friday, November 13, 2009

The Very Bad Thing

And then last night... or I guess two nights ago now, a really horrible thing happened. I feel hesitant to mention it here, but I'm fairly certain no one from school reads this-- actually I'm fairly certain only two people barely read this, and thus it is for myself, so I can and should talk about it. But if there are any Loyolans who lurk, I ask you, please, to not spread this nor take it up with the person in question. One of my suitemates took 16 or so pills in an effort to kill herself. She and I have been getting to be somewhat close friends lately, and we've both been relating to the fact that we've both been down alot. That night I was back before she was, and didn't know what she had done for some time. I usually leave her alone when she's in her room, but I felt particularly bothersome that day so I kept popping in to badger her, but she was in bed, saying she had too much caffeine and she was trying to calm her crazy heart down. I asked her if she had had coffee, and she said no, cryptically, so I left her alone. I bothered her later to ask her something, and she said she was feeling sick. Later I was writing a story in the living room and I heard her back and forth to the bathroom, throwing up. On about her 4th trip I asked her if she was okay and she finally came into the living room and told me what she took. Me: "Why?" Her: "I was really depressed."

I looked it up, then called the emergency number and asked for a doctor. Psafe officers, RDs, Emergency medical people came. She had chills and was out of it and turned really pale- at one point they were all in the bathroom with her on the floor, asking questions while the RD asked me everything she could. Then the effing ambulance people came and prepared her to go to the hospital, which is when she really started to cry. She asked me to come with her and I said I would and walked out with them to the ambulance. When I got to my car, it was dead, so I tried to find her car by clicking her keys. That went on for about 50 hours. When I finally found her car I zipped to the hospital-- since when did ERs get valet parking??-- tried to get in, then went back outside and fell apart for a few minutes, simply because it was all too surreal-- too close to home but also so vague: she could simply be sick, she was throwing up and pale. If you didn't know, it was just "sick". So removed from what it really is; the outside mirroring the inside; pain. It scared me too because it's something that I think about alot; killing myself, in the sense that I think she thought about it-- sort of abstractly, or the idea that it would bring an end or a change- not necessarily death. Another strange tie-in to what's been happening lately. Anyway. After chain-smoking for awhile, I got let into the room where she was all curled up and by herself. They checked her blood twice while I felt like her mom and distracted her by talking about Jane Austen, and a guy who I swear was Truman Capote (minus the wit) reincarnated demanded she give pee. She threw up all night, and we talked about death and bad british comedians and her parents and my family and I read for a bit until a nice asian nurse woman came in to take care of things. Once she left, we both just sat on the bed and she felt stupid and I told her that if she ever felt this way again she needed to talk to me. She told me the same, and we talked about how it felt to have a need to BE someone and what it was to fail. Finally, we were interrupted by the PET team-- meaning the Psychiatric Evaluation Team-- meaning yes, it is the Psychiatric Evaluation Team-TEAM. But okay. He was nice enough, and finally decided that Ally needed to be admitted into a psychiatric hospital. He would forcefully submit her if she didn't go willingly, so she finally did. At about 10:30, after being there all night, I hugged her and said goodbye, then came home and gathered her must-list (while avoiding and lying to my fellow housemates about it. rather believably, I thought, for an exhausted person) and drove the supplies to her temporary place- a psychiatric hospital in Cerritos. I was exhausted and did not go to any classes that day.

I feel like writing about it, but there's too much to say, and I don't know what she would be okay with. So I leave this now, for myself, to remind me of how this goes when I start to think.

1 comment:

Sonja said...

*hugs and double hugs*