I just spent the last six hours in the emergency room with my teenage son. He took a razor blade to his forearm/ wrist area six times.
I just had to make the hardest decision that I have ever had to make in my life.
I had my baby boy admitted to a psychiatric hospital. I completely lost it once I saw him up high and strapped into the ambulance stretcher when they were ready to transport him to the psych hospital.
I had to cut the strings off of his hoodie before he left. Nothing with strings is allowed in the psych hospital.
This is what I did with his strings.
I will NOT take them off!!
My baby…. My heart is broken. I can’t stop crying. My baby is all alone and he feels like his mama gave up on him.
I knew he was depressed and I had a psych visit set up for him two months from now but it wasn’t soon enough. This is what we found as his cover photo on Facebook.
He says that he hates me and that he will never forgive me. He called me a psycho bitch and said that I’m the one that needs to be locked the fuck up!!
I’m relapsing back into my depression because of this. I cannot stop crying. I know that I made the right decision. I am 100% sure that it was the right thing to do but it still doesn’t make things any better. If I feel like this then imagine how my son feels!
I’ve already locked myself back up in my room, crying and sobbing like a baby.
My anxiety is through the roof. All of the progress that I have made over the past two weeks is gone. I’m crying and introverted again. I just cannot stop crying for my baby.
I somehow feel like this is all my fault. He has a psycho for a mom and he sees my episodes sometimes. What if it is my fault? ?
This isn’t the first time that he has self-harmed. Almost two years ago, he took a lit cigarette to his whole forearm and one of his legs. I immediately took him to be evaluated and they asked if I wanted to put him in in-patient therapy. He begged me not to so I gave in. But I told him there would be absolutely NO second chances if he did something like this again. And this time, I followed through with my word.
FRIDAY EARLY MORNING-
I can’t sleep. I’ve tossed and turned so much that the bed sheet has come off. I am still crying so much that I cannot catch my breath.
I’m hearing voices in my head and they are very loud and I’m seeing things. I’m seeing what seems to be a real life reel of myself as if in a dream but I am wide awake.
It is like I am dreaming but I’m lying still with my eyes wide open. I see myself with my hair down and all a mess and in my face. I’m in the same clothes.
I hallucinated that my husband came in the room and told me that my son called him from the hospital and talked for ten minutes (that did not really happen).
I was hallucinating that I was drugged or something and was trying to get out of my bed but I was struggling like something was holding me back. I couldn’t open my mouth. I couldn’t really move my arms. I fell off the bed and was trying to crawl to my bedroom door.
I heard loud voices coming from the hall. It was my son. He was crying and begging me to keep him home. I couldn’t get to him.
And then the voices got louder. I heard him and other voices like a television or radio that kept getting louder and louder.
I’m still on the floor and am completely immobilized and struggling as if I had a straight jacket on. I wanted to scream but I had no voice. I couldn’t open my mouth to verbally speak.
I was crying with no sound. My eyes were leaking and they felt swollen, wet, and crusted from the tears. I couldn’t move my hands to wipe at them. They were stinging so much that it hurt to keep them open but I was too afraid to close them.
I wanted to get to my son and help him. The voices were arguing with him telling him that they were taking him against his will. He was screaming at me. “Mama, please! Please, mama! Don’t make me go! Please save me!!”
And I couldn’t do anything except struggle on the ground on the other side of the door.
This went on for hours. After it would finish, it would start right over again as if a replay button was pressed.
I couldn’t make it stop. It was too loud in my head. I just wanted to sleep. This day was too hard and I just wanted to close my eyes and rest for a few hours.
FRIDAY LATE MORNING-
I woke from finally getting a short nap in. I must’ve been crying still in my sleep. I couldn’t open my eyes at all. They were swollen shut.
The first thing I did was call the psych hospital trying to get some info. They wouldn’t tell me anything because of confidentiality reasons. I bitched at them saying that I was his damn mother and I am the one that signed the papers and someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on with my son.
He had been admitted sometime between 2/3am and I had not heard from him. I didn’t know anything about the hospital stay. I didn’t know if he settled in okay.
Still, they told me nothing. They said he was outside for outside time and he would call me around 1pm.
1pm comes around and still no call. I canceled my youngest son’s pediatrician appointment. He was supposed to go in for 2pm so we could talk about the possibility of him having ADHD. I rescheduled it for Monday.
I canceled it because I didn’t want to miss a call from my oldest or from someone from the hospital.
Still, by 3pm I still hadn’t heard back from the hospital, so I called again and insisted ever harder. They finally told me a little. The psychiatrist met with him. He would be in there for at least 7-10 days or longer (depending on his progress and behavior). They said I could visit between 6-7pm that day and that my son would call me at 4pm after he was out of group therapy.
Still no call. I packed up all of the clothing he needed and his toiletries. I had to cut the strings off of all of his clothing. Then I left to go see him.
When I got there he was sitting there all by himself with glossy bloodshot eyes as if he had been crying and rubbing them. He sat stone faced. No emotion came from him. He bitched at me. He begged me to take him home. He told me he hated me. He called me the biggest bitch again.
He told me that he didn’t need to be there and that I am still the one who needs to be locked up. He told me that he wasn’t going to eat and he would not participate in talking to anyone.
It was pretty much like this for the whole hour. He at least let me hug and kiss him a few times before I had to leave him. I told him how much I loved him and that he means the world to me and I need to help save him.
I cried when I turned to leave him. I cried all the way home. I’m home and I’m still crying for my baby.
I told him that I will let his dad visit him for tomorrow. Maybe my husband can get through to him.
What do you do when your heart is broken in pieces?? 😦
I am emotionally exhausted. I feel another sleepless, hallucinating night ahead of me.