Traición

It hit me like a ton of bricks. The hurtful comments; but mostly the invalidation of it all. The lack of compassion. And it hurt. And no one can tell I'm wrong, or don't feel what I feel, or have only myself to blame. Do you hear me? NO ONE can tell me those things.

I started cutting on my arm, then I moved to my neck, and my face. I couldn't stop. I didn't want to stop. The emotional pain was so intense I could hardly breathe. I was panicking and numb at the same time. I called Zach, who suggested I go to the ER. I did. I did not go to Harrison, as my experience last year was not a good one. I drove down to Gig Harbor to St. Anthony's.

My experience was a 180 from Harrison. People were so kind, and so attentive. I was seen immediately. Blood was drawn, they did an EKG. My ER doctor, Dr. Gates, came to see me almost immediately. He was so kind and compassionate and listened and empathized with what I was saying. He said I could go voluntary as inpatient, or if I wouldn't do that he'd have an involuntary admission. Meaning I didn't have a choice; he knew I was unsafe to myself and should not be alone and was in need of higher care. The social worker, who was also filled with empathy and compassion, talked with me for quite awhile. He also recommend I be admitted to a hospital. The two nearest me were full, and he said that historically when that happens on a Saturday night, there are also no beds in Seattle or the surrounding areas, but that he would still call them all and if there was not a bed available I would stay the night in the ER and we could reevaluate in the morning. A little while later he came back in and said that in his year as a social worker in the ER it'd never happened- but a bed was open at a really good facility in Seattle and I would be going there. I'd been in the ER for about 2 1/2 hours at this point. All I needed to do now was wait for an ambulance to transport me to Swedish Medical Center in Seattle.

So here I am. I am in a safe place, even if I don't feel safe yet. I am seen by many nurses and doctors. I have therapy groups several times a day. They've adjusted my medication. The psychiatrist says he wants me to stay at least through the week. Mr. Purrington is being taken care of by the family Zach lives with. I am so grateful for that and grateful he's in good hands, though I miss him dearly. I wish he could be here with me.

I'm having a hard time writing right now, but I wanted to take advantage of my free time and write down these raw feelings.

I feel sad. Mostly just sad. I feel numb. I feel anxious. I know it doesn't make a lot of sense to feel all these intensely different feelings at once, but I do. I feel like this is the right place for me to be right now. I feel betrayed, I was betrayed. I feel invalidated by those who should have my back no matter what. It's almost laughable how little I am known and how huge the judgements are. Traición. That's the word for it. Such a happening and such an emotion does not translate to English.

Traición.