This past weekend? Worst weekend EVER.

Friday wasn’t the best day, I was struggling with my depression pretty badly. Saturday during the day I felt a bit better, and my mom, sister and I ran a garage sale to sell my nephew’s outgrown baby things, and did pretty well. We’d all been out in the sun, so all three of us napped after that. My grandparents and an aunt and an uncle later came over for hot dogs and to hang out afterwards. After they left, my sister and her fiance rented a couple movies and were watching “This is 40” which was TERRIBLE so I went back to my room rather than finish it. I don’t really remember what happened, but I do know that the depression I’d been struggling with was back, and brought with it a host of suicidal thoughts. I was starting to formulate a plan of jumping out of an attic window, so I packed a bag and went downstairs to ask my sister to drive me to the ER.

We got there around 1, and I didn’t actually get assessed until around 5:30. The woman was from the local mental health agency, so she made me an appointment to get connected with services on Monday at 2. I was discharged and my sister (who had been passed out in a really bizarre position in a chair most of this time) took me home. I had something to eat, showered, and went to bed around 7:30 AM on Sunday.

At 11:45, my stepdad stormed into my room, knocking over my fan that was too close to the door, and bellowed, “GET UP.”

I looked at him and said “Did you know I was at the ER last night?”

“GET. UP.”

I did get up, to go find my phone and call my mom to see if she could mediate. She was driving my brother and nephew back to their house and was on her way back, and said, “We have to talk. Get dressed and I’ll be there in about 20 minutes.”

Seriously, guys, there is nothing more gut-wrenching than the phrase “we have to talk.” But I got dressed, figuring mom and I would talk and sort things out and things would be ok.

I didn’t realize my stepdad was going to be part of the conversation. I almost refused to talk with him, but I bit my tongue and we started talking. They wanted to know what led to my going to the ER, and I was explaining what happened. I said I was doing the best I could, I’m taking my medication and trying to do what I can, at which point my stepdad interrupts.

“Where has that gotten you? In the last six months, it’s landed you here, and then last night you were at the ER. What was that about?”

I know I yelled this part. “Because I wanted to go to the attic and JUMP OUT OF THE WINDOW.”

“Why didn’t you?”

I stood up and left, returning to my room, and barricading myself in with my nightstand, as the door doesn’t latch and definitely doesn’t lock. I could hear my parents arguing, and my stepdad saying “She needs to understand that this is all bullshit.” A few minutes later, he comes in AGAIN, forcing his way into the room despite the nightstand in the way. He says, “I meant what I said literally. You HAVE TO UNDERSTAND that you really want to LIVE.”

I was just screaming and mostly incoherent at that point, screaming at him to get out and leave me alone. He refused to, and then told me to get out of HIS house if I wouldn’t come down and talk to them. I said if he didn’t get out, I was going to call the police, getting my phone out of my pocket. He insisted that would make it worse, but I dialed anyway, and he FINALLY left once I started talking to the dispatcher. They said that they would send an officer to mediate and I said I’d wait outside for them. Once I walked outside, my parents tried to get me to go sit down at the table again, but I told them I was waiting for the officer to arrive, and went to wait in the driveway.

The officer arrived and I explained what was going on, trying to get him to see my side of things. He listened and took a few notes, and then went to talk to my parents for a few minutes before returning to me and mansplaining a bit about how my parents were trying to understand and weren’t daring me to go commit suicide. I agreed to go talk to them with the officer (who really wasn’t any help as he kept taking my stepdad’s side) but at least my stepdad was being somewhat civil at that point. The police officer left after a while, but of course we had to keep talking.

Mind, I have had four hours’ sleep at this point, after sitting in the ER all night due to suicidal ideation. I have been told that my suicidal thoughts were bullshit, talked over, mansplained to, and nobody at this point is willing to accept my personal experiences as true. I had eaten a bowl of cereal at six when I got home but that was it, so I was also hungry, and I was pissed as all hell.

I finally went and explained spoon theory, which my stepdad hotly debated, insisting that I should be able to do all of those things and I was just being lazy about it. He continued to assume that I spend all of my time in bed and demand that I not be in bed between 8 AM and 8 PM. I pointed out that he hadn’t even been here in over a week, and I have been doing everything anyone asked of me the whole time, and that I wasn’t magically going to get better after my entire life had been turned upside down. There was also a conversation about weight and health in there too, because of course there was, my family never misses a chance to concern-troll me about it and go into detail about how exercise and weight loss will definitely fix everything. (One of my skinny friends who struggles with depression told me “Yeah, and I also fart rainbows,” when I told her this later.)

My parents tried to say that this is stressful for them too, but I pointed out that, while their adult daughter has moved in might be a bit stressful, I have lost EVERYTHING. I lost my job, I moved away from my friends, I lost my companion animal, I lost my security network, all of my stuff is in a storage unit, and I am barely holding it together, and then when I got here my brother’s life fell apart so we’ve spent the whole time trying to pick up the pieces for HIM and I’ve just been pushing everything down, just like I always have had to.

I don’t think ultimately that I got through to anybody, but I was too tired to keep going. I retreated upstairs and took my nighttime medication, took a shower, and went to bed at 5:00, despite fears that my stepdad would come in and start yelling at me again for being lazy. Mom came in at 7:30 to check on me and I told her I was pretty much done for the night because I was honestly too tired to see straight. I slept until about 2, at which point I got up because I was hungry- all I had to eat yesterday was a bowl of cereal, half a sandwich, and some potato salad- and then I wanted to get all of this written down.

I’m still a bit of an emotional wreck but I’m presently numb. It’s raining outside and that sounds nice. I think I’m going to go eat something and try sleep again.


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