I've been having a really hard time. I haven't really been honest on this blog, because my sister reads it now, and I didn't want to worry her. But after today, I feel like she deserves to know what is really going on.
I've been cutting. I went 23 days without it, and then two days ago I started again. You might ask why. Sometimes, it's just too hard to keep fighting. Sometimes I just want to give up. On Wednesday, I did give up. I gave in and bought razor blades. And I cut. And then again yesterday I cut. Except yesterday was different. I cut my ankle, and it was pretty deep. I probably needed stitches, but I don't like seeking medical attention for self-inflicted injuries. One of my friends had requested that I tell her whenever I either want to cut or have cut, so I went over to her room and talked about it with her. She freaked out a little when she saw the cut, and said she was going to call campus security to take me to the hospital for stitches. Unfortunately, at this point I had to go to night class, so she said she wouldn't call them until after my class. However, I was terrified and ended up sobbing all the way to class, so that when I got there, I was a mess. My professor (who is also my advisor) of course was concerned, and I told her exactly what was going on. With my permission, she called the residence life staff person who was on-call, who called the Dean of Students. I talked with both residence life and the assistant Dean of Students last night, and they made one of my friends sleep over with me. They also had security check on me. I had to meet with the Dean this morning as well.
Unfortunately, the Dean is not the best at dealing with these sorts of situations. She basically lectured me about how I shouldn't be so selfish and shouldn't put other students in the position of having to call security, and how I am a disruptive influence on campus. It was a horrible hour. That is NOT how you deal with someone who is self-injuring!! What a bitch.
Then at lunch today, one of my best friends revealed to me that she was planning to check herself into a psych ward today, and she wanted me to come with her and check in as well. At first I refused, but as I thought about it more, I realized that I really do need help. So I agreed. I called my parents and told them my plan, and they were surprisingly supportive. Usually they are against all forms of therapy and medication. I also called my sister and told her (I love you sis!!).
Well, I didn't end up checking into the hospital. The counselors at the campus health center told me that I probably wouldn't be admitted because I'm not in immediate danger of ending my life. Yes, I am suicidal, but I'm not going to go jump off a bridge right now. So both me and my friend didn't end up checking in. I'm wondering if this was the right decision, but I'm sticking with it for now.
The summary of this whole thing is: I'm depressed. I'm cutting again. I am suicidal. I might need to be in a hospital. But I love my friends and family, and I appreciate all the support I have received in the past 24 hours. I'm glad I have such good friends.
I'm sorry if I worried you all. I just want to get better. I just want to be happy. Hopefully, someday that will happen :)