I'm feeling a lot better now that I don't have to stress over five million due dates and tests. I have finals, but I'm not really stressed over them. I'll be fine. My bgf isn't acting so weird anymore. He says he wants to hang out a lot when he gets out. He also couldn't see his girlfriend because he has no passes off ward. I asked when I could see him and he said that I'll probably see him after he gets out. That made me feel a little better. His voice also wasn't as flat. I don't know if he was hiding it, or if he genuinely felt better. He told me that he doesn't remember Monday and his whole mental breakdown.That doesn't surprise me. I don't remember my mental breakdown either.

I haven't really explained what happened to me and why I ended up in the psych ward. In November 2011, I noticed that I was slowly falling into a depression. I told my therapist, and I ended up going on Zoloft, which is an antidepressant. The only bad thing about it is that it can be very dangerous. When you're on low levels of it, you drop off of it, and do really stupid things. Such as try to kill yourself. That's what happened to both my bgf and I. It's super scary. You just feel like there's no reason to live anymore. You literally cannot see any light.

It was tech week for the show that I was in, late February or so. I had just started Zoloft, and I immediately noticed a change. I was fine for the first week or so. But by the second week, I was feeling worse that I had going into treatment. I felt absolutely hopeless. I wanted to just crawl up into a ball and cry for no reason. It was just this awful sadness in the pit of my stomach that would not go away. I went into a mental breakdown. I zoned out for 48 hours. I don't remember much of anything. I remember staring off into space, and not being able to speak or move or eat, or do anything. All I could do was lie there in my bed and stare at the walls. I faintly remember my bgf (he was my boyfriend at the time) calling me over and over, scared to death because I wasn't talking. I remember his mother also talking to me. And I remember sitting up suddenly in my bed, grabbing a bright red scarf, and tying it around my neck until I couldn't breathe. I remember the instant gratification I felt. I remember standing up and clutching to my dresser, my vision getting blurred from lack of oxygen, as I stared at my dark eyes in the mirror. And suddenly, I knew I couldn't die. Not yet. I still had something to accomplish in life. So ripped the scarf off and threw it at the ground, and sunk to my knees, and cried.

I remember being dazed everyday after that. I didn't go to school that Monday, or Tuesday. And then suddenly, I felt the urge to find that red scarf again. Only it was stronger this time. I got scared and called my dad. I went to the psych emergency on Valentine's Day, and they admitted me as an inpatient on suicide watch. I was very sick. I couldn't keep any food down, so I was on IV for a night. My stomach kept cramping and rejecting food. It was the most awful expirience in my entire life. Then I went up to the ward. I spent a week there, recovering from my breakdown. I got my meds changed, and things got better. I got out feeling weak, but able to at least carry on normal life functions, like feeding myself.

I don't have much to prove that breakdown I had. I do have scars on my arms, from where I stabbed myself with razors. I also have the word "HATE" scarred into my arm. It's a constant reminder of the battle I'm fighting.