I don't remember a lot from the hospital. I remember the 28th. The 28th was the day that I overheard one of the least sick people in the group say he was feeling better. He was admitted because he needed faster titration of his antidepressant dose than could be done outpatient and then he went home. He was the person I liked the most there, and I was happy he was feeling better. But all I could think was that I had just that day finally started my new med after being there 2 full days and nights, meaning I was going to be there for what seemed like forever. I felt worse, not better, and I was so very tired of feeling worse. I started crying and did not stop until after the 2nd time I tried to find a nurse to help me I finally found someone, got the words "I.......can't.........stop" out, and then had to wait first for the doctor to order more meds and then for the pharmacy to bring them. By that point I'd been sobbing with my whole body for hours and the nurse had me calm enough to be laying down. The med put me out and I slept most of the rest of the day. But during those hours when nobody was helping me and I was too scared to leave my room in that shape I was so serious about wanting to kill myself that any barrier that had ever mattered no longer did. I cared only about not hurting like that. Nothing was a deterrent, not knowing I'd get moved to general psych if I hurt myself, that there was no way to successfully hurt yourself using an ink pen rapidly enough to not be noticed on hourly checks or that I had no way to kill myself. That was the main source of the tears, I wanted a way to kill myself and instead had locked myself up in the safest place on earth.
I am so much better now. A lot of sense of trauma still exists from that day. (although not enough to keepme awake apparently). But it's so hard to not remember some of that horrible feeling. It's why I wasthere, but it was still the scariest thing I have ever felt.