It is kind of a funny thing, missing a psychiatric facility, but I do. I miss my friends, I miss the staff, I miss the campus. I was there for 90 days. The majority of my time there I was a mess. Having panic attacks almost every day, my medication was off. I just did not want to be there. I would say however that the last month of my stay at The Parry Center, I saw a change. I wanted to get better. Before I had told someone that I wanted to stay here for as long as possible, I didn't want to change. I wanted a label. I told them that I wanted to be labeled as a psychiatric patient, who never wanted to live a normal life. That all changed in one single day. This part is painful for me to write as it was a day of horror for many people, so be warned if you are sensitive because I am going to be very real. It was a Friday. I had been waiting for this day for weeks. I was ready. It was the big day for my shopping day with my friends and sister at Washington Square. My therapist and mom signed a few papers allowing me to go off campus, and then we were off. I picked up all of my friends and we were Washington Square bound for what everyone thought was going to be an amazing day. In my head, I knew differently. My mom dropped us off and reported that she would be at the Starbucks in the mall if we needed anything, and then we were free. I cringed as I realized my new found freedom. At the Parry Center it was total lockdown, you had to ask to go to the bathroom and even to get into your own room. This was the mall, I was "free". We went to a few stores and bought a few things. We decided to split up and thats when I knew I had my chance. Quickly I went into a makeup store, and bought a eyeliner sharpener. I told my friend that I had to go to the bathroom, so we both walked towards the restroom. My palms were sweating, I knew what I was going to do. I quickly went into a stall and smashed the sharpener retrieving the blade. I looked anxiously at my left forearm, and then I did it. After making several cuts I started to get dizzy, and things were starting to get fuzzy. I had to get out of there. I quickly hid the blade, put on my light grey sweatshirt and walked briskly out of the bathroom. My friends asked if i was doing alright and I lied. To this day if I had only told them I wasn't fine, maybe this would have all been different, but I told them, "I'm fine." They told me that I had to go to my mom to take some meds. I did not think twice, and went to take my meds. As I walked into Starbucks I looked down at my arm. Blood was seeping through and starting to drip. I panicked. It was too late. My mom started to scream and I tried to run, but she and my friends grabbed me. Things could have gone a lot differently. They wouldn't let me go. I started to hyperventilate and passed out. My friend had to call 911 as me and my mom sat on the floor in the middle of Starbucks. They took me in an ambulance to the hospital. Emergency room number 15. This will be important later on. I never got to see my friends, and have not seen them since "the friday incident", it breaks my heart to know that I deceived them. I love my friends, I still cannot believe I did this to them, my sister and my mom. I was put in every restraint they could find at the hospital for trying to run. As I laid strapped to a bed, my parents read my personal journal out loud. Tears all around the room and sobs as they read horrifying words that I had written about myself, and how I had planned this whole thing knowing I would end up in the hospital. I was taken that night back to the Parry Center, crying the whole way. What did I do? I ruined everything. I lost more trust than I realized even then.
I look back on that day and wish with all of my heart that none of that ever happened. I wish I hadn't lied. A few weeks later after taking a few weeks back at the Parry Center to recuperate, I went on another outing. My dad took me back to the mall, and this time it was not about schemes or shopping, but about healing. We walked the entire mall, praying every step of the way for healing. I walked into that Starbucks and tearfully asked for forgiveness from God for what I had done. I am thankful for that time with my dad, and now I am not afraid to go to the mall anymore. WELL this was quite the long blog, but I needed to say what I did. Without the Lord, I would have ended my life. I praise him everyday for a second chance. Monday I discharged from the Parry Center, and came home with a fever. The sickness quickly turned into more than just the flu. I went to the hospital, to get a chest x-ray and fainted. They took me to the emergency room. Room 15. The exact same room that had been so painful before, full of restraints and tears. Now it was full of sickness, but laughter and smiles. We prayed over that room. Another chance God gave me to heal from "the friday incident". I tell ya, God is amazing, and he works in the weirdest ways to bring good. I am home now after spending 5 days at Randall Children's Hospital with Pneumonia. It is SO good to finally be home. Thank you all for continuing to pray and support me, it means the world to know that I am doing work for the king and hopefully encouraging other hurting people. I love you all, and thanks for listening to me!