Day from hell.

Today has just been a day from hell for me. My mental illness is in full swing. I hate everything and just about ready to blow! Trying to make money doing something I love is a lot harder then people say or make it out to be. I struggle with it day to day and I still have no idea if I am pressing forward.

Between being yelled at, all the negativity and everything else I feel like my mental status has been compromised. The last straw for me was I have been trying to go to college just because its a goal of mine and no lie I have gotten everything from oh yeah everything is good your good to go!Then 10 minutes later well we need this we need that! Fuck this shit I am about ready to tell them to go fuck themselves because I am so sick and tired of having to get into contact with them because of their inability to fucking due their job! Ahhhhhh sorry for my language I swear a lot. Just so much disappointment. Breathe and focus. Breathe and focus. Right. I think its time to re-evaluate myself and my options and what I am doing or not doing... Any suggestions?

Nov 19th, Last day in the hospital!

So, I wake up at 7 AM. The doctor comes in at 8! They move me to a low residue diet! ( The day before was full liquids! I apologize days were starting to blur together!) What, ok? I don’t know what that is! I think its level 2 diet ( for nursing home residents it means all the meat is grounded up). But, its not. It’s a low fiber diet (http://www.webmd.com/ibd-crohns-disease/low-residue-diet-foods) can’t have more than 10 grams of fiber…

           Don’t eat for ten days. Then everything tastes amazing! The nurses come in, you're leaving today! What? You're leaving today, awesome! The rest of my day is packing. The rest is waiting for paper work…

So, this is the end of my story for now. Just of this chapter. Thank you for staying with me on this journey. As of now I will be taking a break from this blog till January 1st to reformat and rest my mind so I can focus on my business and changing this blog to motivational and self-help. If you aren’t following me I would recommend it! Great things are coming. Also if you have any questions you want answered, please leave me a comment. I answer all questions! If you have a subject you want me to write on please leave me a comment.

What do you think my first post should be for the beginning of the year?  

Nov 18th, 10th day in... Huh!

I wake up pretty early. The doctor comes in. They want to try a clear liquid diet. Well, that's good. No more fluids through IV. Great news! So, I am getting better, but I have to wait to see the specialist again. I take a shower. I relax. I want to walk.

"Can I go for a walk?" I ask the nurse
      " Of course! In fact it's a warm day!Why not go to the courtyard?"
"Alright, sounds awesome!Can we get someone to go with me?"
         "Yes of course! Let's get someone!"

I wait.. The person comes and we walk to the courtyard. I sit in the courtyard...enjoying the sun...just enjoying the sun...

Nov 17th, 9th day in. It’s Time…..

I keep waking up hoping it’s time for my procedure. It’s not time. One hour, two hour. I am so done with this tube in my face I start taking it out myself. Then realize I can’t (not because of location but because they will stick it back in and I will have to wait another day or two)

God, its finally time. They wheel me down to the waiting room. I am down their 20 minutes ( or so it seems). they bring me into the procedure room. They cover my face with a mask… take three deep breathes… and I am out for the count!

I have a very vivid dream (normally I have never dreamt under anesthesia). If you have seen John Carpenter's Vampires there's a few scenes where the vampires come in and wipe the town or building clean, it’s just a nightmare. Blood, guts, you get the idea! Well that is my drug induced dream but, and I repeat that again BUT!!! I don’t know that I am dreaming. Repeat I do not know that I am dreaming! This is really happening. So imagine my surprise and shock when I wake up in a hospital bed in a gown, IV’s sticking out ( no NG tube I might add) and no one is around besides a nurse or two. Let me tell you my paranoia has never been so extreme besides when I thought I was dying. So somewhere in the back of my mind so its screaming get out of here. But, I have no idea whats going on.

They wheel me to my room. I ask to take a shower. They get me set up. I take an hour long shower. Just enjoying the water, relaxing. I get out, get hooked back up to my life line. Lay back in bed then bam! I am out like a light I sleep about 17 hours. ( The procedure started at 9 AM I get back up to my room about 11AM so I I sleep till about 7 or 8 am the next day. I was out. I only wake up to get some meds then I am back out!)

Nov 16th, 8th day in the hospital. Well it ever end!

Midnight comes and goes… 1AM...2AM….3AM….

3:58AM “ possive noun”

4AM…. 5AM….6AM…. when you stay away three days straight the world plays games with you. This must be a game…

7:50AM “Possessive noun. So, I stayed up again all night. Probably will do the same again today/tonight”

My neurotic nature is showing. I am supposed to be having an endoscopy today. With that they will be ballooning my esophagus and duodenum passage. ( http://youtu.be/nns9O1R1A8o not for the faint of heart.) I am so nervous. But, the day before, they tell me they didn’t get in the anesthesia. I was looking forward to getting this NG tube out of my face… What’s one more day…

8:54AM “ But you referring out as a color its how you use it in a sentence. “

9:48am “the color is a pssessive noun so is the name of pink panties”

10:19am”Pink panties is not even a color...you are referring the two differently...you say pink panties as a color..but i ok more what you mean lol I'm not dumb “

10:20am “it is now im making it one “

Really, this is what you decide to talk about. You can’t just be like how are you doing? You want to talk about the subject terms of using a possessive noun in conjunction with an adverb in association with an adjective… Does anyone really care about that shit! Why don’t you just tattoo I am a boring dumb fuck on my head and send me to town!...(Yes i am really that harsh on myself)

12:28pm “what do you wanna be when you grow up little girl? “

Radio silence… yup… I done fucked up again… How many times can one human screw up… I haven’t counted but its up there! Somethings are too important to just give up… I haven’t given up… maybe I should… I am so scared…. just one thing to go right in my life… just one thing please…

How to be present without being present.

Have you ever made a mistake such huge it has effected you to the very core. I have, twice. I was 21 suffering with a major bouts of depression. 5 days after my birthday my daughter was born 2006. I got to see her not very often but once a week.
This is not an easy subject to discuss. Over a few months I would try to see my daughter as much as I could. I would drive my moped 2 hours to visit for an hour. Then one day it came to my attention that the mother disappeared left the baby at her mothers house. I was astonished. I was dumb founded. So I end up having to go to court for custody battle. After three days I surrender my rights... everything. There goes my core. All my values. All my purpose my posse. Why, why would I do this? I was doing the right thing... I was selfish... I was naive. Absorbed. I went nuts. I lost both my jobs due to my inability to cope. I tried to be something... What did I try to be something I wasn't... I stayed single for almost a year... I thought I was capable. I was wrong. I needed more time. I needed to find myself. Figure myself out. A year and half later maybe two. We break up, I try to sleep my pain away, with someone I cared about. Second time I destroyed my core... After a month my ex and I make up. I get a message. The infamous we need to talk. Not from my ex but from the girl who I was sleeping my pain away with. Ok I meet up with her she is pregnant... What!!! Huh.... Oh my god... WHAT!!! My mind is not comprehending this information. Can't be no seriously. The core is coming unscrewed as we speak... ( as I am writing this Jersey Girl is playing it makes me emotional and neurotic all at the same time.) I have made another mistake.. I have what... have..... what.... depression..... this is the beginning of the end...She tries to tell me to do the right thing. What is the right thing. I try to make myself better by saying if I choose wrong... I choose wrong either way... Please what am I supposed to do... 2 years later I have a son.... A son... oh my a son.... why a son... please grow to be better man than I.... Please let him be a better man than I. She contacts me... I want you to sign over this stuff... No... I am resentful... hateful... I won't do it.... 2 more years later.... thumbs up.... shock... dismay.... what do i say this can't be right... I have ruined this relationship... I burnt this bridge and the foundation... hi.... talking, maybe friends... 3 months later... I have tried... I keep trying... How can I try and be present when I can't be present... my emotions can't handle this... please don't toy with me... I hate myself enough... please forgive me... 2 months previous I attempt suicide to run, to escape, to let my struggle go... It won't let me go.... 1 month after that was an accident. I understand i will let you be... its ok,we can talk... I don't wanna be a bother.... 2 months later... nothing... the sound of silence is so sweet when its nothing but the sounds of tears streaming from the broken faucet that i call my face, my disease has kicked in to full gear now... what did I do... what have I done.. did I say too much. did I try to hard... not hard enough... fuck I will never give up... I should give up.... give up.... just give up.... just give up loser... give it up... 365 days to be out of the clear.... i am barely at the 90 mark... one more time. maybe I can get it right this last time...just one last time... 

Finding faith, in a sterile environment.

Let's go back to Oct 5th a Saturday. Rough estimate of time its about 3 in the afternoon. I am sitting in my hospital bed. Trying to find greater purpose after a failed suicide attempt. I remember hospitals have priests or chaplains or clergy involved in the healing process. So, I asked for a priest to join me in prayer. I really needed it. So, with that I waited must have been 7PM at night when there is a knock on the door. The chaplain comes in and we start talking.

Now, I will be the first to admit. I am not a spiritual man. My ethics and values don't come from the bible. I have seen too many hypocrites to go down that path. I told this to the gentleman but he sat and let me speak and listened to my story and I asked him to pray with him. Without a blink of an eye he did so. I needed to look beyond myself for an answer. I hope this was it. After we prayed he came back with a bible for me and I started reading it daily.
     
     Lets fast forward to a few days later, I am in a locked unit for people with behavioral issues/mental health issues. People who have attempted suicide knowingly or unknowingly. They stick us in a ward with no activities but our own mind and let us shimmer in our own juices. But that isn't this story. It's visiting day, an hour before visitors are to arrive I call my mother. She said that her friend and her husband wanted to come see me. I had never really meet them before so I was like ok. But they can't make it today because they are going out of town. Sure why not. Ok well as long as I know its better than waiting and being disappointed right.Next thing I know about 30 minutes later I get another call. Its my mother the husband is coming up he wants to talk. Ok.... what.... alright so confused. It will take him about an hour or a little bit longer. He has to drive and its an hour drive to where I am at.
              So I hang out in the common area watching tv waiting. He arrives so we walk to my room and we start to talk. Yes even crazy people surrounded by other crazy people like their space when talking to others. We are peculiar like that. So we start to talk and he tells me about his story. He has addiction issues plus mental health issues. I think everyone does but some are more willing to admit it then others. But his life has been up and downs and not very livable and he doesn't know how he is alive because of all the drugs and things he has done. But, something changed his life around and he has changed his life for the better. Its called Celebrate Recovery... A 12 step program for people with addiction issues, but its no only for people with addiction its for everyone who has suffering and wants to improve their lives healthy through Gods word. I listen and listen and I want to do this program. I need this program I want this program. I have to find a way to this program!!! What does this tell you about this program and their belief in it. This guy drives all together about 2 hours to see me just to spend an hour of time with me to talk to me about this program! Do you think he truly believes? They don't want money,they don't want your praise they are just doing God's works like he tells them too! I have yet to make a meeting not because I don't want to or I don't believe. But I have to work at the times of the meets and I honestly have to have the income. If I didn't need it that bad or was a millionaire I would be there in a heartbeat and I will attend because of how much of an impact this gentleman made on me! That is the goal for 2014 to do this! To live in accordance with the positive and the spiritual! Have a great day and life!

Nov 15th, 7th day... The day I lost myself.

1:24AM “ Lol..yes I’m working as usual.”

      1:56AM “that is good thought at least you are working”

3:05AM “Yeah but I wouldn't mind being home….I pay for a house I’m never even at”

       3:20AM “ but at least you have that option some people don’t even have that”

3:22AM “True..but I would like to be home that’s all I’m saying”

        3:33AM “ I understand I wanna be home to than in the hospital”

3:34AM “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to be there either”

         3:39AM “ well i gotta get better so i can get a chance to”

          4:32AM “ I am gonna try and nap so take it easy.”

Nov 14th, 6th day in the hospital.

Do you think, that suicide is an option? does self-harm come natural? Do you feel alone? Hopeless? Confused? If you answered yes to the first two questions, you are a special individual. Because, self preservation is so strong to inflict any type of damage to yourself, it is nearly impossible to overcome that. So feel special you have the drive to overcome basic survival instincts!

You are never alone, as I write this I have 1,660 views (grand total on my blog). About a quarter are bots ( non-human visitors). So we will say that about 1200 are real views. I started writing the 27th of Nov,2013. When I publish it will be the 17th. 21 days, with that math, I am averaging 57 views a day.

That is 57 real people taking the time to express an interest in my life. Two month ago I was alone (felt alone let me clarify that). Today, I have hundreds. You have hundreds too!

 I sit in the hospital bed, wondering what my next step is going to be. Do, I try and adjust back to normal life, do I try to finish what I started( to attempt suicide again, most stats say that if you have attempted suicide once you are more likely to do it again within the first year. Its only been a month and 14 days since my attempt.), or do I do the unthinkable and improve and get better (to do a cannonball into the pool of life and just throw myself out there and do something no one else wants or can do).

How can I decide, I am focused on the negative. My mind is all over the place. I start to hear my bosses voice and a co-workers. I must be losing my mind. I have gotten a low grade fever. They give me Tylenol to break it(fever), no morphine (they say morphine can increase body temperature I don’t care. I want the pain to go away.)

Well, whats a few hours of pain… I need to distract myself. I tell the nurse I think I know those guys talking outside. That is why they check my temperature early, I am hallucinating and don’t even know it.

8:14 PM Blank screen, words appear..

“Pray for me…”

        8:21 “ Are you ok?”

8:24 PM “ back in the hospital because I couldn’t hold food down for two weeks. this pain medicine is amazing. It makes me high as a kite and wanna say I love you and nap!”

9:04PM “you

10:40PM are you working tonight?”

End transmission

Nov 13th, 6th day in the hospital.

If I knew what I know now... How many times have we thought or expressed this statement? If only I could go back to change the past. All this fixations on our past! Even, I dwell on the past. If you can't tell. I am writing this a month after it has happened.

Misery? How would you define it? Having diner with the in-laws? Going to the ballet, or maybe a football game? We go into these events with a preset notion of what may or may not happen. True misery you can't control!

I can control my thoughts, my actions, and what I choose to focus on. Six days in the hospital, after the first 17 you would be right to assume I was miserable. A tube through my nose. Needles in my arm, going to god who knows where!

I have to have hope. I have to have faith! ( Not something I prayed, but I wish I had that day.

"Dear merciful lord,
          Please take this suffering of mine and take it from my heart. Allow me to find meaning and grace, for I have none! Use me, as a tool for your ways. That I may be graced by your healing spirit. Allow forgiveness to enter my heart and those that hate or resent me." For they know not what they do! " In your son's name I pray! Amen!"

I have my laptop. Better movie access. I can't focus on anything, besides the pain and that empty feeling inside. Please forgive me for I know not what I do! Together we cry, I cry alone...

It gets later and later, the sun is setting. Hot, cold, hot,cold. My body doesn't want to pick a setting! I stare at the blank screen. It stays blank. I don't have the courage, the knowledge, of how to move forward.

As night progresses, my thoughts hover on the lonely. How long will I be alone, should I be alone, will I always be alone. It's time for the morphine drip.

I ring the buzzer. " Hello, what do you need." I want to say a new body! " Can you ask my nurse for my morphine?" At this time I think I am addicted, I don't care it takes away my pain.

Goodnight

It takes 30 minutes. Eyes heavy, sounds get louder, pain is gone. Thoughts are gone. The dreamless sleep.

Nov 12th, 5th day.

He is already almost pushing a week into being in the hospital for a second time. He is so miserable and  afraid and wondering when its going to just happen. When he won't wake up, when the morphine finally puts him in that final sleep. He doesn't wanna die just sleep forever. This is worse than the first time. Constant nightmares, constant pain. Constant misery. He tries to stay positive he tries to stay focused. But its nearly impossible when you have things coming out of every hole (not really just the one on his face) and holes going into his body. More tests x-rays and barium swallows and things that just are stupid. They have to do it to make sure the fluids are emptying even though he has a constant pump. Every day it gets better and better less and less fluid is coming out but it still feels shitty. This night he throws up. He has no idea why. Its the same color as when he drank the blue bottle. Panic sets in! How long has that been there! Is he gonna die. Was his body storing that inside! What the hell is going on he super freaks. He pages the nurse its 2 am or 3 he doesn't know what time he doesn't care " Please get my nurse I just threw up!!!!. " " what" " MY FUCKING NURSE GET HIM I JUST THREW UP"  " Oh yeah I will tell him" ... not even a minute to two minutes later both nurses are in his room " you ok, you threw up what color was it. I gotta call the on call doctor and let them know give me a second" " so the doc says its not a big deal it happens sometimes".... So let me repeat that in my head to myself. You are telling me that I have this fucking tube in my nose that is supposed to drain me like a sink, so I don't throw up, but its actual not that big deal, so don't go worrying about it...How about this let me stick this thing down your fucking nose and you make yourself throw up and tell me that's not that most uncomfortable feeling in the world!!! God.... just fucking put a bullet in my head, treat me like a fucking horse or cow or dog!!! You will be ok they say, we are gonna get you better they say... FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!!! Someone better be telling me the truth...If I don't get better I am going to well fuck I am going to die... I hope its peaceful... Maybe in my sleep. That would be cool, maybe they give me some morphine! Yeah I like that idea. He lays his head on the pillow. Lets go to sleep. He closes his eyes... Its hard to calm down. He slowly drifts off to sleep for a few hours. (For the first week in the hospital this time around he has barely slept for more then 3 hours on an hour to two hours up then maybe another hour up. Its never constant. and he has to sleep in a more sitting position because laying down with that damn tube is damn near impossible and it doesn't function as well. It needs to be over his heart. So he is constantly trying to keep it there. Its hard but he does feel that it works better and he is not as uncomfortable when its like that. ) He is awake another day done not that he can tell everything has blended.

Whats in it for me? ( A look at why we do things)

I have been writing daily now for almost 15 days maybe a little longer. Which to me is an impressive feat. I normally stop after a few days thinking its a waste of time. So now I think to myself why am I doing this? What's in it for me? I am not getting paid. My emotional status is pretty upbeat even on bad days. I am focused on 20 different things between trying to go back to school and making money and paying bills and improving my life overall. World get ready for me 2.0! Even 3.0 yes that is how passionate I am about these changings I am doing. So, back to my original questions, what am I doing this for? Why am I doing this? I have thought and thought and I always think. Is it for me? People keep telling me its for me your doing it to heal. But that is not why I am doing this! I love to write. I love looking at words on paper or screen! Just to feel the passion behind the words. The ideas, the thoughts the convenience of emotions that are summed up in just a few little letters. So, why wouldn't I want to write this? Its too personal, it's too soon? Its unhealthy, its too permanent? Isn't that what writing is about? Writing is about bring out those dark ideas that no one wants to know but they want to know! Its about digging into the deepest darkest scariest parts of our psyche. But that doesn't explain why I am writing this! It doesn't express my thoughts or feelings about this. What are my goals and intentions? My first goal. To help fix the myth that people who have attempted suicide are fragile and weak and selfish! I am not selfish in an unhealthy way. I am selfish in a healthy way. Our society lists being selfish as normal as being healthy. You should think about yourself and how you are going to get what you need to survive. So why is that when someone threatens suicide most people always comes back to the you're being selfish! Such a contradiction such a hypocrite our society is! I was being selfish when I attempted my suicide but I was being selfish in a way to end my own misery and suffering. I didn't want me, no one wanted me. So why can't I decide my own fate. " Your soul doesn't belong to you" (Bedazzled with Branden Fraizer) Because my fate doesn't belong to me. It belongs to us. For all the people who I haven't met yet and the impact on their life I will make, the impact of the life they will make on me. That is why. For the people who have battled with me since the beginning even though they are no longer at this junction in my life doesn't mean they won't be forever. So let me explain I am selfish. I will always be selfish, I have that right. I want the best for me but here is the kicker! I want the best for you too! That is why I write. I write to help! I write to show someone, anyone, everyone that we are not alone! You will never be truly alone. Even alone you are not alone. Computers, phones, internet. With all this technology we have access to so much. So why not use it to help communicate to others what we need help with? Why don't you ask for help from someone you don't know? You go to a therapist right? That person doesn't really know you, do they? They only know what you let them see! The darkness, the scary place. What about the good? What about the human being underneath? How about the fact that you have the ability to laugh, smile, cry, jump for joy? No, they don't see these things because that is not what they are supposed to see! They are supposed to help us gather the courage to face the impossible! Fuck that! Nothing is impossible, only improbable. I want to see everything! I want to know everything about you! What makes you tick, what makes you happy what makes you cry. Its probably the same for me ( for the most part I hate heights but I rock climb, bouldering to be exact its fun! But don't ask me to go on a rollercoaster with you unless you want me to die!) That is why I write. Daily, about nothing and about everything. I am almost at a time where my suicide attempt will mean nothing. It will be my past and I will forgive and forget. But this journey will never been over. I want everyone to understand that I am here forever. Even in death this will be accessible and I want it to be accessed. That is why I write! Thank you for reading. I hope this gives you the courage you need to make it through the tough times and better yet when times are amazing!

Nov 11th, another day in the hospital.

After the crazy night getting that NG tube back in and not remembering anything after that the nice nurse doesn't show up today. Dang she was nice. He hopes he didn't say anything stupid, knowing him. He may have. Shrugs don't dwell on it too much. It will only make makes worse and that is not what you need or want. Another procedure he has to do today. So far he has had x-rays and all sorts of scanning. It sucks. He feels he might start glowing in the dark. The pain is still there. Morphine is available. Nap time! He keeps waking up every few hours. The patient advocate starts coming in daily to see him, its probably cause he is alone in the hospital hasn't had any visitors and looks like something the dog/cat throw up. He feels worse. Just another day in paradise. She brings him in movies. Its better then watching tv. Most of the time he ends up falling asleep during them. Its fine he needs the rest. Just more of the same. He stays up again all through the night. This will be a daily occurrence.

Rough nights, tough days.

Tonight, I am going to be writing about my night. Tonight was a rough night for me. I walked to work like I normally do trying to think positive thoughts but my mind keep turning back to a time long ago when I was "happy" not really happy just was in a rut and it was better than not knowing what was happening. I also kept thinking of some one who I was happy with. Then I started to think about how I would never find that again. Who wants to be with a person who has attempted suicide. Who wants to be with a person who is going to have days where the world is amazing then days where he can't even leave his bed. Who wants to deal with that shit. I hate depression. I then started thinking about how it would feel to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger. Would it be worth it this time. I know there are people out there who love me and they show me every day and I cherish those moments. But this disease is not curable. Its barely fucking manageable. Ups and downs, downs and ups. How do you live your life on a roller coaster never knowing at what moment if its going to be up or down. Every day will be tough and every night will be rough. But I know I can do this. I know I can succeed and make my life better. One day. All I am asking for is one day. Please watch me for I will run over you if you don't.

Nov 10th. Day three in the hospital.

Another day in the hospital. So far in a months time he has spent about 20 days in the hospital. Don't recommend it. He has that damn NG tube that is more like a torture device then a medical one ( don't get me wrong here folks without this device I would have never gotten healthy but when you have something shoved in your nose stuck there and it moves back and forth at will for about 10 plus days you would rather be put on the rack). Constant pain. Morphine every 3 hours and at a dose of 4 mL that is some good stuff. Its always nap time at morphine time! Most of the day he spends watching tv or movies because there is nothing else he can do. Today he has another procedure he has to go back and get the picc line replaced because it shifted in his arm and chest. He doesn't really care its just another day with constant pain and mental torture. How do you get better when it seems like you are getting worse? The nurses come in daily, hourly. Checking on his status and seeing if there is even the slightest bit of improvement. Or to make sure he doesn't tie a line around his neck he doesn't know. Either way its a pain in the ass. If you have ever thought about suicide and are really contemplating it I wouldn't recommend it. Take it from personal experience. Most people don't actually achieve the desired effect and end up where I was. In a lot of pain and a lot of thoughts running through your head and the suffering. No matter how bad the world looks at that moment. There is always sunshine coming up. You just have to find it. Another procedure it seems like he has had more radiation in the last few days then he has in his life. But that is ok he just patiently waits everyone has high hopes. He just mopes around being miserable. Another day stuck in his metaphorical hell. Tonight is a sleepless night. He stays up all night watching tv. He wishes he had something better to do with his time.

On the other side of the attempt.

I don’t remember much of that day except is started with “Greg, have you ever been so depressed you attempted suicide?” which I received at 9:32 am while driving to a client’s work site.  It wasn't until 10:49 am that I saw this message.

What do you do with a question like that?  How do you handle something like that?

I reply “I haven’t.  There was a point that I thought about it but I never attempted.  I will admit that you have me concerned with you asking.  Do you want me to call someone for you?”

We continue to work and continue the conversation thinking things are getting better when at 12:07 PM on Oct 1^st I receive the message.

“I am sorry Greg, but I am gonna take my life now…”

“HELL NO!!!”  I am screaming inside I am panicking,  I open another browser.  Where did he say he living now?  White pages is there someone with his last name…  Yes!!  My hands are shaking, I walk into the stair well not to both my client that I am working with that day, I dial the number “Hello, my name is Greg and you don’t know me but I live in Utah and I am talking to a friend with your last name…” after finishing explaining the situation I hear “I am sorry, I don’t know a Thomas…” 

NO!!!  That can’t be, I don’t remember anything else they said and don’t even remember how the phone call ended. 

I sit back at my desk and read “I can’t even get the razor blade to cut me…  I don’t wanna live… Once I sign off. Its game over for me.”

The gentleman that I just talked to me calls back and says “Don’t give up, have you thought about calling the police.  Of course I have but what do I tell them, I have a Facebook friend that I have talked to once on the phone and now I am trying talk him off a ledge?  Yes that is exactly what I am going to do!!  

They have to be able to help…

What is his name?
How do you know him?
What is his address?
Does he have a Drivers Licenses here in the state?
What is his Cell Phone number?
Do you know his family?

“We cannot find any record of him…”  My heart drops.

We will forward the info that you have given to us to one of our investigators and let you know what we find.

12:22 PM The last thing I hear from Thomas “I am sorry Greg”

I plead with him sending message, telling him that I won’t tell his ex-wife what has happened, virtually yelling at him, pleading with him but he is gone.

There has to be something that I can do, wait we met on Facebook despite his claims I am sure that he has friends and family that care…  About yes there are family members here… 

I send the message “I hope you see this. I am a friend with Thomas Thibodeau and he is threatening to kill himself. I have called the Huntersville police but I can't give them any directions. Please contact him!!”

Facebook asks do you want send this to their primary mailbox for a $1, of course I do, how can they be asking me about money.  This is a matter of life or death I must hurry I need to get this to as many people as possible.

Copy & paste, next person copy and paste, next person copy and paste…

I have messaged all of his family what do I do now?  What can I do? Is it over?  Is this how it ends? 

It feels like an eternity but then I get a reply from one of his aunts, Rita, thank you Rita.  She says she is contacting his mother.  Other family member start contacting me asking questions I share all I know.

Finally at 1:21 PM I receive a message from his mother stating “He has been located and is being taken to the hospital.  He did do something but he is OK, he is awake and conscious.”

I go to my client and explain the situation and tell them that I won’t be charging them for the day and that I won’t be able to continue as my body and mind are done.

It is hard to explain what I felt those 40 minutes that it took me to get home that day, anger, pain, confusion, happiness, joy.  But the emotions that I can remember most was Thankfulness to my Heavenly Father for letting me help, and Hope that there was another day that maybe Thomas could have another chance at happiness.

My history (part 4)

I hope I have lost to many of you in this jumping around thing I have been doing with my blogs but either way its pretty much laid out so go back through and re-read what you have missed. With that being said after two weeks of intense therapy and visiting a baby girl in the hospital my life did a 360 yet again. All of a sudden the mother was no where around. The grandmother had her. This was a shocked. A disbelieve another mental set back. How are you supposed to hope for the best when all that is around you is the worst. Next thing I know I am driving an hour and half on moped to go see a little girl trying to salvage something that may not exist. A few months into this its so much. He doesn't know where to turn for support its like a wrecking ball has come. He needs to give up this custody battle because he can't even take care of himself how can he take care of another. He does. Its for her sake he keeps saying to himself. Reality is he is young and selfish. How do you go from not knowing anything to such an epiphany as that. He was being selfish. Not selfless. Its an act he has come to know well. He treats his life like a battering ram. Not a very smart way to live a life. Either way his life circled and circled. He lost one job due to traveling back and forth. His second job he just stopped going to because he wanted to have a life. How do you expect to be semi-normal with no life. Reality is he is not normal never well be. Things change, he again moves back to the west. He hates the west. He decides to go back because its the only option. He has burned too many bridges. All of them on fire. The fire still burning away. How to put them out? He can't.

Nov 9th, second day in the hospital.

I feel that I must explain more in depth about the severity of what was occurring at this point in time. He was dying a very slow death because his body wasn't receiving and nutrients or hydrogration. Did he know this prior no. So with that being explained.The second day in the hospital. He decides he wants to take a shower so he asks if he can the nice nurse says of course. While in the shower he sneezes and the NG tube comes out like a bat out of hell. The first reaction he can think of is really, great! So he tells the nurse and then the brute squad comes in to put it in again. This time its not happening like the first time. It just won't go in they give him a nose bleed because of trying to get that damn tube down. It hurts like a son of a gun! Reality is *bleep bleep bleep bleep bleep this bleepin thing* Yeah! Then he also has to get some more tests and procedures done. Blood sugar twice a day. Morphine as much as they will allow him. It takes the edge off. Anti acids twice a day. Blood thinner. Because he can't really leave his bed at this time. He is attached to the wall and to the IV fluids and TPN. That is all they give him. They can't give him an oral medications because well it won't go any where. The morphine helps him sleep plus they give him some other stuff for nausea and the like that helps him sleep. He tries to sleep through most of this. It doesn't really work. * Bleep bleep bleep * Its later in the evening the nice nurse comes in. " So we have to get that NG tube in " His room has gotten very crowded. They are gonna hold him down the just feel it. She comes back in and gives him a boat ton of pain meds and the like to relax him. Then the greatest thing ever an anesthesiologist comes in. That guy is my hero just to let everyone know. He sprays this nasal spray to numb the nose and bam that NG tube is in and down cake! Where the hell was this guy early! Someone does love him. After this the pain meds kick in. He is gone! I am not talking like you drank to much gone I am talking like there is no world gone! He was out. He doesn't even remembering talking to the nurses about books or anything. He thought it was a dream. The world at this point and time became non-existent. It was beautiful. When the world becomes that oblvious to you or your surroundings it like someone cast a magic spell and you get to benefit. He gets woken up a few times during the night medication, tests, the usual. End of day 2 in the hospital.

His story (Part 3)

So my first serious battle with depression I was 19 living in the west and I hated it. I decided to move back to New England. With that my life started to change. I started to move forward with my life go back to school graduate ( Get my high school diploma) find work and all that fun stuff. I was doing really well for the first few months. Was going to school doing all my work, working a decent job for someone in school. Was gonna go to college and get everything moving forward. But that all changed when I met her. She changed my life and my experiences. She got pregnant. I got confused. I wanted the child. That is what I kept saying. I want to have a child. ( A child having a child what a great experience). I dropped out and she graduated ( we we're both legal I just turned 20 and she was 18). We moved to a shitty town with cheap rent and hardly any jobs. I kept struggling as my depression became worse, it turned into anger. I was never happy anymore. I was working constantly with no support. She wasn't working. Nothing seemed to be working. Every day was just as bad as the last and it got so bad our relationship finally crumbled. That is what drove me to my first breaking point. I cracked like an eggshell. With that I went into outpatient mental health facility. 2 weeks intense therapy. 8 hours a day. That was amazing we we're actual given coping skills and shown how to move forward. I changed I started to work on myself. But I couldn't afford the after therapy. So I stopped going taking my meds. It didn't matter I was progressing. Moving forward. I couldn't afford the place I lived so I moved in with someone. It was intense. I was working it seemed harder to do less. It became such a burden to do less. I decided to do more. I started working two jobs. Trying to succeed. But it was never enough. Three months lasted like this. I was just making myself a neurotic mess. Nov 10th 2006 a girl is born I travel 100 miles to see her staying up all night to sneak into a hospital to see this little girl. 2 days like this. Its too much. Its just way too much. He finds a way back to his house after trying to figure out how to do everything. Scene ( Well maybe write some more tonight)

Skipping ahead in time to Nov 8th. The day after my birthday. (Edited sorry it was the 8th was looking at the wrong calendar)

If you are curious as to why I am skipping ahead to Nov 8th I will be happy to tell you. Because from the day I got out of the hospital to this day. I was constantly throwing up multiple times a day. I had to go into the ER twice because at one time I was throwing up as many as 16 times a day. It got really bad there. So the day before he had a meeting with a specialist GI doctor. They gave me a new form of anti-acid. They also scheduled an endoscopy for the next day. So he has to stop eating at midnight and no water cake. So he goes into the procedure a little nervous and a little scared he knows they are gonna find something wrong he just doesn't know how bad it will be. Its a 2 hour procedure he is knocked out for most of it. He wakes up in the observing section. Amazing drug induced sleep is always amazing no dreams no nothing just pure sleep. He waits about 10 to 15 minutes the doctor comes in. " Your going to the hospital" The doctor calmly tells him. He has a befuddled look on his face. "We had to pump two liters of fluid from your stomach before we could even attempt to look around. It was bad." Wait what! (Next time you go into a grocery stop or a gas station for at a 2 liter bottle that is what the pumped from me) " There is an ulcer blocking your intestinal track nothing is getting through. You also have 17 cm strictures in your esophagus. You have to go to the hospital. Which one would you like to go to." What the fuck man. Can't he get a break. A month out just barely to have to go back in. " We are going to have to put an NG tube in your going to have to go on TPN and IV fluids and ..." The words start to fade out he is losing focus. He doesn't want to go back into the hospital. Fuck, the tears are coming he can feel it. He did this to himself he knows that. But, God why can't you just have an ounce of pity.( God does by the way have an ounce of pity if I didn't go into the hospital that day within one or two days I would have gone into shock from low blood sugar http://abcnews.go.com/Health/DiabetesScreening/story?id=3812946) They let him go home real quick to talk to his mother then they go right to the hospital to check in this time its a local hospital. He gets changed into the gowns and lays on the bed just relaxing there not really doing much. They take his vitals. They take his blood sugar 74 the first time pretty normal. Thats at 12 Pm. They wait to hook him up to all the machines. (Sorry for those that have never heard of TPN http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parenteral_nutrition) They decide to hook him up to a picc line ( http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peripherally_inserted_central_catheter) They have to actual because of how thick TPN is. So first procedure he goes down stairs and he watches them put in a picc line. A little bit nuts if you ask me but I still did it. It was intense. A few hours later two nurses come in. " We're going to be putting in the NG tube" Alright. " So what you need to do is drink this liquid while we cram this 6 feet of tubing through your nose into your stomach " WHAT!!!! He looks at them like they are fucking insane. They must be. ( video of procedure being done this guy has it easy. ) They tell him its easy and blah blah blah. He is just like lets just fucking do it the more we talk about it the more I am not going to want to do it. So they do it. It sucks. I don't care what you have had done. This procedure is shitty then shit. The only good news they give him morphine for the pain. Let me tell you he is in pain. This was done about 6 or 7 pm at night. They check his blood sugar again. 54... Thats bad... Good thing he was in the hospital.

About myself part 2

(Please listen to the song at the bottom of the page while reading also on the right side of the blog is a poll please please vote. The more votes the better I can do at updating content. Thank you) I never finished writing about my history or what lead me to start writing this blog so to finish up. So after about a year and a half of dating a woman (no names will be included to protect the other parties involved). I was given the option to move out of the state is was living in to move west. I decided to do so. I told the woman about this and I didn't use very nice way to break up with her. In fact I said there was nothing keeping me there. I was working at McDonalds at the time, still hadn't graduated even though my class graduated last year. I was just free floating and not moving forward I was stuck. I never peaked and I never moved from the lounge people. No movement. So I decided to change that. Why not move West start fresh start over right. Seems like a good idea. So I did. For nine months. God it was horrible. It was such a misuse of nine months. I hated every moment of this time. I was miserable this is when my depression really kicked in. I was alone, I was a waste. I had no friends. I had my parents. I was working two jobs with nothing to look forward too. I got injured working one day. My hand was crushed under a piece of granite slab. Luckily no permanent damage just superficial wounds. Thank god. Thank someone. I still threw up afterwards. I drove him due to being sick and my mom looked at my hand and was like we need to go to the ER. So we go and they patch me up no work for a week. That sucked. But whatever. So during this time I had my epiphany. Go back to whence I came. That is brilliant. I will go back. That will help me out. I start getting cheerful. I make a few calls find a place to live set up for the time a few months down the road to move so I can get some money and get the plane ticket and be on my merry way. Easy right nope. I quit my job thinking something different. Too soon. But that is ok. I just find other things to do. I get the plane ticket and I move forward I move back. To the other side of the world. East coast here I come. With that I will leave you to ponder. Listen to this song while reading. It puts a great light on the read!

Oct 17th. Official out of the hospital.

As of Oct 17th, he is official out of the hospital. He thinks to himself he is going to move forward with his life and keep progressing towards his goals and blah blah blah. Reality is he is upset. He tried killing himself to no avail. He looks at the people around him who love him and he is deeply sadden by the burden he has laid on there shoulders. He has to spend two weeks in a hotel as well because he doesn't official have a place to stay yet and he doesn't want to get anyone in trouble. What to do? What to say? How can you tell someone you are sorry for trying to kill yourself when they don't understand why you tried doing it in the first place. All the see is what they want to see nothing more. You can't change the past you can only change your today. He hates today and he will hate tomorrow and he will come to loath every day for weeks to come. (His medication isn't working correctly due to non absorption I am going to write another post today skipping to how they figure this out but for now lets just see nothing is getting into his system). His nerves are a complete wreck he finds no solace in the fact he is free. He would rather be back in the hospital. But he has to move forward. He has to keep his eyes on the prize as they say. He hates this time of year. Nothing goes right. ( Can you tell his mind is so jumbled on thoughts that don't even matter its just bogging down reality?) He doesn't throw up today. Small win! He goes back to focusing on non-trivial events that don't make him upset. He works for the few hours that he can then he walks across the street to the hotel. Oh the hotel. To be alone in such times. Is it wise? He would allow him to be alone in such a crazy moment in his life. Well if he is going to do it what better place then here? What better time then now? He goes to sleep or tries to. Sleep is difficult to come by when you are so jumbled. Scene! (Don't ask) Also please vote on the poll that I have posted. I would like to know so that way if you read this blog I can ask a few more questions to start up my second blog! Thank you all.

Oct 16th, Last day in the hospital.

Yes, I am purposely skipping day's from Oct 10th to the 15th. The reason why is because most of it is boring as hell because its about 90% of the same stuff. Also the other 10% while is important to my story isn't going to change the fact I can't remember what days they are on and when they occurred. So for the validity of this blog and me not stressing over when things happened I am just going to skip to the day I get out of the hospital. Its about 10:30-11:00 in the morning and he is getting released today. He has a lot of nervous energy and is trying to make the best of this. His parents are picking him up and they are there waiting. They finally release him a few minutes after 11. He makes his way out the building. They leave. Mom is glad to see him out. They keep talking about crap he doesn't want to hear like how he needs to find things to do and stay positive and blah blah blah. He doesn't care, his mind is on other things. Place to live, work, eating things of that nature. As of right now he can eat anything. An hour later he arrives at the house and is greeted by his grandma. He gives her a big hug and says hello. They talk for a little bit then he goes inside. He lays down and just relaxes as the day winds down. 6:30 6:45 Pm hits. He goes to work to drop off his hospital note. His boss asks are you gonna work tonight he says yes just to do something. 7 to 11. He lasts about an hour to two he runs into the bathroom and throws up. He throws up so much. He thinks its just nerves. Just nerves. It will be almost a month before he see's the specialist that says otherwise. But for now its just nerves. He makes it the rest of the night. He feels sick still. He gets home and goes to sleep. It was a rough night. Rough all around.

A little bit about myself and my history.

I have started this story without telling anyone who I am or about myself and my history. I decided today would be the day to really confront my past and my story. I started writing this blog as an expression of myself and as a courageous way to get my actions out there. Every story that is told is another step forward to a socially acceptable society in which our past actions won't be judged or condemned. Everyone has monsters under there bed. Some are more horrific then others. But that is not any reason that you should judge people based on there traumatic experiences and how bad they have it compared to others. What you should be doing is opening up your ears and listening to this individual open up there soul to you some one they trust and felt should hear there story.  There is a movie called Reign Over Me with Adam Sandler, where he comes out of the therapists office and his friend is sitting there waiting for him at this point in the story he has left the therapist office early a few times and this time she tells him as long as he talks to someone it doesn't matter who it would be beneficial to him. So Adams character goes out and he starts talking to his friend about the events that made him what he is today. Its a heart breaking story, I won't tell it to you I would instead suggest watching the movie. Especially if you know or are yourself suffering through depression or any other mental illness. This movie speaks to my soul every time I watch it. Sometimes I wonder if I will every get to that point where I just lose myself to this daily battle and just say fuck the world and just become a recluse and decide not to be a part of society anymore. That day has yet to come. So my story begins when I am 10 years old. The first time I thought that the world would seriously be better off with out me. It wasn't such a revelation, there always comes a point when someone thinks about there own death but at 10 years old that seems an extreme. It gradual disappeared and he forgot about the experience and moved forward. 3 years later he thinks about it again this time with a little more intent. He looks up to the sky and curses the world and god asking why this is happening and why him and to take him off this planet. No such thing. Fast forward 2 more years. He is still moving forward struggling with depression, struggling with life. He barely goes to school, he works a full time job. Its either work or school. He choice work. 15 years old working full time. That is a little extreme but he doesn't care. One day he decides to go back to school or the choice was made for him by his parents so he goes back and within a week he is back on schedule with all the other students even though he missed almost a full term a complete year. He taught himself most of the missed work in a week. The teachers just look at him. Rumors spread he died. He doesn't care. He just moves forward. So much to accomplish so little time. He starts dating, he slowly moves forward. Life is getting better he forgets about his depression his problems. He still suffers from mood swings one day happy or bland to anger. Its a side effect of his illness. He doesn't yet understand this is not normal. He keeps moving forward. He takes it one day at a time. Move forward two years. He has started dating a girl and he will for another year and half during this time he will find work and slowly move forward. This is where I will end today and pick it up tomorrow.

Oct 9th. Day 9 in the hospital. Psych Ward day 1.

Whoa, nine days in the hospital first day in a psych ward. Its a nervous day. There are about 16 other people on the ward. He sorta knows what to expect because he has done this before just no inpatient setting. So what to expect group therapy. Group therapy and more group therapy. If you have never been in this setting you would think 90% of your day would be spent in a group setting trying to figure out how to get coping skills and figuring out how to turn your life around. Well you would be correct depending on where you go. His days spent mostly of trying to figure out what to do and waiting for there to be group so most of the day was spent watching tv, playing cards, reading, showering and exercising. He decided to start exercising to get back into shape after spending most of it in a bed. Wasn't much a few push-ups a few sit ups. But enough to build a sweat and get the heart rate up. This is how he would spend the next 8 days spending most of his time like this.

Oct 8th, day 8 in the hospital.

Today they decide to release him. Freedom. Freedom at last. Well actually, they are just transferring him to a psych ward. It was his choice after all. They are waiting for transport. A police cruiser, the dodge charger. Nice vehicle. He waits almost all day before they release him officially. He is in hospital scrubs because all his clothes have been taken. He doesn't care anyway he wants them burned. He leaves at 3 o'clock or a little after. Its a 45 minute drive. He doesn't mind he gets to look out a window and see the world instead of more buildings. The officer actual has good taste in music 90's alternative that's a good sign. They just cruise along the highway. He called his parents early to get some clothes. They are going to meet him up there. They get up there about 4 o'clock. maybe 5. He doesn't really care he just hangs out and waits. They have to admit him again. He waits around for what seems like an hour. They finally get to admitting him. He has to go upstairs to the locked unit. A special floor for people like him who have mental issues who have tried to kill themselves. Its 6 o'clock by the time he gets up stairs he gets to see his parents for a little bit before they have to go. He has to be checked out blood pressure check, temp check, heart rate. He is healthy. Well that is what he thinks anyway. Then comes the questions. How long this, how long that, how often first time offender. Blah blah blah. He just answers slowly and purposeful. Never hesitating. His answers aren't planned. He is just speaking the truth. What burdens him just spills from his mouth like an open wound. He is cleaning his plate. Tears form on his face. So much hate, so much disappointment. He is a hopeless mess. Just in a different environment. He has a single bed. In this place you can end up having a roommate first night he gets his own bed. By the time everything is done its 8 almost 9 o'clock. They finally check his clothes for contraband. He gets to change. The day is winding down. He decides to go to bed. Its 11 o'clock.

Day 7, 7th day in the hospital.

The time is coming to a close where he will soon be getting out of the hospital. They want to release him in the next day or so. They feel he has been rehabilitated enough to move forward. They move him to an unrestricted diet. Food glorious food!!! He can eat anything he wants! When you haven't eaten anything in 6 days even hospital food is like a gourmet meal. Even hospital food like a gourmet meal. Gross as that sounds don't eat solid food for a week and then you will understand what he felt like. The doctors come in. " Looks like your doing better" What is better, I can eat. Sure, how about my mental status is that better you better believe he is not better. The memories haunt him. The deed lingers like a tremor in the wake of an earthquake. An earthquake that never stops and starts when ever it wants. You can't measure this earth quake there is no Richter scale. Only the devastating affects of a person who will be tormented and haunted for the rest of his life. They want to move him to a different hospital in patient therapy ward. He looks at them its already been a week. What about his job? What about his life? What life. He has destroyed any semi-balance of unhappiness he has falsely created. Does he have a choice? "Well, I don't know... I mean. I just... Fuck it I will go I should go I need to go." They nod there head in approval. Like by him saying he wants to go is a good thing instead of having to court mandate it. Which they probably would have done. How long will he be there. Another hospital. God, another hospital. How many more to come. Today is an improvement. Well sort of he can eat that is the only improvement. That brings joy where there once was none.

Oct 6th, The 6th day in the hospital.

When you spend 6 days in the hospital you start questioning yourself mentally and physically. You start replying scenarios real and imagined. You start thinking of things that may have triggered the events. You start thinking of the people you may have hurt, how they think of you. How you are going to overcome even the smallest obstacle in the chance for recovery. They say he is getting better but mental he feels he is going crazier. How often can you watch tv, how often can you write, how often can you read the same passages over and over again. Well, let me tell you alot. Cause that is all he could do. The same doctors come in day in and day out. The psychiatrist comes in and they speak about problems and solutions. Temporary fixes to temporary solutions right. They move him to a full liquid diet.(http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/patientinstructions/000206.htm). They keeping telling him that he is improving. He doesn't feel that way. He feels worse and worse. Mental stress and anguish takes its toll on you. He sits in a room all day by himself. No one comes, no one goes. Its a hard process. It takes its toll on you. Day in and day out. He has seen this episode of Supernatural before. Its better than nothing he gathers. They take the oxygen off. So he is clear to move around on his own. Showers are easier to take even though they have a special unit that you have to cover to make the water run. The trick is to wet a few paper towels and cover the device so it keeps going. He stays in the water for about an hour. To kill time to relax. To just relax. He seems to be getting better. They don't tell him but he has lost weight. He won't find out until later how much he has lost. They stop checking blood. The worst is behind him ( so it seems). Anti-depressants to help mental stability, sleeping pills to help sleep at night. He still stays up till midnight most nights. Its hard to sleep in a foreign environment where people are screaming and crying and just being nothing seems to be what it should. People come and people go. The first question he gets asked from another patient " Why are you here?" What the fuck are you asking me that for how about leave me the fuck alone.  He smiles " To get better" He is a drug addict. He just doesn't care. He looks at the nurses and doctors behind there work station jealous, envious, they come and go freely while he is stuck in this never ending cycle that just doesn't want to let him off the merry go round. Some of the nurses are very attractive. He looks like shit. Why would he have to meet someone that attractive looking like he was just dug up from the grave. Because that is the great thing about life it throws little surprises at you. He shouldn't think about women right now. He should get healthy. How do you get healthy. By staying on task. What task? What chores? He is lost, confused. He is a live how many people can say that ( most statics show that for ever 1 person who dies from suicide an average of 20 to 30 people live. That is about a 5% odds to actual kill yourself a 95% chance to live. He is officially part of the 95%. They also say that most people within the first year attempt a second or third suicide attempt.) 6 days, its been 6 days 359 more to go. Only 359 more to go. 359!

Oct 5th, day five in the hospital.

After being in the ICU and Oncology for a few days they moved him to their behavioral health locked unit. On day four. On day five they started giving him a clear liquid diet. Improvement. Slowly. He can drink liquids. He can eat jello! Yeah. 5 days no food no water. Then they allow him clear liquids and jello! Oh my. Slowly but surely he is getting healthier ( that is what the tell him, he is getting worse but he doesn't know this).  Everything is slow going. This process, it took him less then 20 minutes to destroy himself. 5 days , 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, 432,000 seconds, and he is still not even close to being 100%. He takes the oxygen off from time to time. He is breathing better. They decide to take out the IV fluids cause he can drink fluids. He is still stuck in hell. He tries to stay focused. He reads, he writes, he watches tv. The same thing day in day out. The doctors come in. They ask him the same questions. " Do you want to harm yourself?" No I want to finish the job if this is going to be my life or the rest of it! " No, I am doing much better." " Do you want to harm anyone." You for asking me that fucking question day in and day out. " No, I would never do that." " How are you feeling?"  I am fucking amazing I tried killing myself, my wife left me. No one has visited me for days. I can only use the phone for 5 fucking minutes and anytime I use it I wanna strangle myself with it because its better then being in this shitty ass environment expecting people who don't give two shits about you to help. My emotions are through the fucking roof. I wanna cry every day. I am alone. I am suffering. I am in pain and I am a wreck. " I am doing better, I pray every day and just take it easy and focus on what I can do to get better. I want to get better." They are gonna keep me here forever aren't they. That is what it feels like. They can keep him their for a minimum of 3 days by law, thats not including the time he already spent in ICU and Oncology. Another 2 days... God when will this end. It never ends. Its always beginning you go to sleep. You wake up its still there. It takes too long. It doesn't take long enough. The only good news is they can't just throw you out on the street. Thank god for some laws.