"I would rather die than live here." Those were the words that I spoke to my Dad when my BPD was at its worst, after a long night of arguing and endless fighting, I was tired. Looking back I don't even remember what caused my distress, the only thing I do remember is feeling forsaken by the people that I loved and that my life no longer held any meaning to me, I was alone with a shattered glass heart and I wanted my pain and suffering to end once and for all.
Thankfully, I was never allowed to act on my wish, once the words above were spoken my dad took action, his wife at the time called an inpatient treatment facility to have me admitted at once. At the time I was willing to be put anywhere to have some form of escape from my own mind. A change of scenery provided that, but I had no idea that my time there would not be short, it would be a whole year I would be spending inside of those white walls, of seeing staff come every five minutes to see if I was still breathing as I slept, of daily therapist visits and group therapies of all kinds, and how even being released I was still not free since I was forced to go to outpatient therapy at each institution I spent my time at.
My first stop was when I was fourteen years old a month shy of my fifteenth birthday I was admitted to Peachford Hospital in Dunwoody, a suburb of Atlanta, Georgia. My first night there I got my first well rested sleep and a very painful blood test. My first day I was in pet therapy for about an hour then I went to go see my therapist, I told him that I was feeling much better and was ready to go home. He, however, did not agree he told me that because I was admitted for suicidal ideation I had to stay for my own safety because I posed a threat to my own life. I ended up spending two weeks at Peachford and by the time I got out the school was out for the summer.
After I got out of that hospital, I thought that my days in the asylum were at an end, I celebrated my 15th birthday with my closest friends and family and I felt the love that I was craving to feel, to feel wanted and needed by others. My life was complete and perfect again. Little did I know that my world, along with my heart would be shattered once again.
My next stop was in the late fall and early winter in November at Brentwood Behavioral Health in Flowood Mississippi to be hospitalized for suicidal ideation, a few weeks before Thanksgiving. This hospital was much easier to get out of this time because I knew exactly what to do and what to say to get out much faster than the last time. I kept my head down, participated in group therapy every day, and said all the right things to my therapist. I ended up getting out before Thanksgiving and was able to spend it with my family. But it still wasn't over, it was indeed just beginning.
My next and final stop actually involved two hospitals in a three week period, I spent three weeks at a hospital called Pine Grove and a month in Meridell, a longterm treatment facility for psychiatric patients. I welcomed both facilities with open arms because I was driven to suicide as a result of my Dad and his wife's emotional abuse. In the end, I was sent back to live with my Mom who had finally beaten her alcohol addiction and could have me with her again.
The three words I spoke above set off a chain of events that would eventually lead me to happiness, I graduated from high school with my diploma, I became a Certified Pharmacy Technician and now I'm in a relationship with a man who loves me and that I love with all my heart. Life has never been better for me.
For those that are still in the dark, I offer these words. You are loved, you are needed, and you are wanted. It's never too late to get help, you just have to take that first step to ask.