Archive: 6 posts

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I am actually just returning from a psychiatric institute as of Wednesday. I posted this on another community when I came home and thought it was important to share. I'm going to become an active member of this community and due to the nature of LBP, we come from a variety of backgrounds, some sadder than others. I'm sharing my story in hopes of helping others. On Thursday I was once again admitted to a psychiatric unit. If you're wondering why I'm posting my business on a public forum, it's because I'm an open book, It won't hurt to share some experiences. Anyway, most of you know my back story and how I've had my ups and downs. I've seen a a good of death in my time and went through a lot of abuse, both verbal and physical, and while it may not seem like it effected me, while I did smile and joke, and while I didn't really feel like it bothered me, I was just pushing it beneath the surface more and more. On Thursday, I was cracking badly because I had not been getting enough sleep the entire month due to nightmares. The nightmares were extremely vivid and all revolved around death. One of the most haunting ones that unnerved me badly involved me walking into a cemetery on a cold cloudy day, the wind was slowly picking up as I walked through the gates and saw the names of friends and family on the tombstones, children included. There was one empty grave at the end of the trail and I felt my chest tighten as I walked toward it, the winds started to get violent and the sky darkened. Written on the tombstone was "Jaquan Butler, March 4th 1995 - January 30th, 2014". Needless to say, I didn't sleep that night. I had been anxious for a while trying to solve the problems of my friends who decided to try to escape all their problems in drugs. I'm not one to say "DRUGS ARE THE DEVIL!" but it definitely isn't a way to cope with serious issues. My best friend who I broke off with in November is always on something and has been that way since her boyfriend got struck by a car in July. Last time I saw her, she had lost a lot of weight, was drunk, high, and on two different pills. It was crushing to see her and her decaying health but there was nothing I could do. Home life was just as bad with the verbal abuse continuing and violent tempers still strong. My father started cussing and yelling at me and with all the other stress coupled with the fact that my dog had frozen to death that morning, I snapped. I grabbed a knife and chased him and then I completely shut down, cops were called and I was taken to the hospital for psychiatric evaluation. While I had been in places like this before, this time it was different, I didn't care that I was there, I didn't miss home, in fact, I was dreading going back home. When all these thoughts were going through my head, I cried for the first time in a long time, I felt so safe in the psyche ward and I was so afraid of going back outside to "The Asylum". While I was there I was placed with the adolescent unit despite being eighteen because I was still in school. I was the oldest there with the ages being thirteen to seventeen. All the kids had different problems and most of them revolved around family life. I was so upset to see such young kids going through enough pain to make them cut and want to kill themselves so I shared my stories and brought a little light to the situations, tried to give them a bit more confidence and a brighter outlook on things. I was a big brother for the first time in my life without even realizing it. All of them liked to hang around me and I always tried comforting them when I could, but it didn't change how I felt about my situation. On the day of my family meeting where everything would be thrown on the table, I was having anxiety attacks and shaking a lot. I was so afraid to face the family that had caused me so much grief since I was little and I was freaking out. I kept a journal from the day I went in and wrote all my thoughts and feelings, I let the other kids read it whenever they were feeling down. One of them did something that touched my heart. The girl's name was Gabbi, she was quiet, never spoke a word and had a thousand yard stare, she had been through a lot. I always talked to her not expecting a reply and she gave a smile here and there. On her final day there, without me realizing it, she slipped a note into my journal. "They took away our pens. I don't feel right here, I don't belong here. Not sure I belong anywhere. But you're intelligent and very genuine. I really thought about what you told me yesterday. You helped me (which is near impossible) so I know you'll help yourself. I could go on and on about how ****ed up I am, how ****ed up family is, or ask you a bunch of questions- but I think you've had enough of it. Family is who you love and who loves you. Don't listen to what anyone says, you're strong." When I read her note, the fear was gone. Sure I was still nervous but I felt like if I could help them, then I could at the very least stand for myself. I went through the family meeting and confronted several of my family members, I saw that they weren't malicious but all had painful backgrounds themselves. My family is broken and they don't know how to fix things, they don't know what to do. I've decided to let go of anger and be a more understanding person, all of us are human after all, all of us feel pain, all of us make mistakes. My visit to the hospital was probably the best thing that happened to me in a long time and I came home to a family who was worried about me and friends who missed me. I may have lost the point somewhere along the way, but if anyone, anyone feels like they have to bare the weight of the world on their shoulders, remember, you don't have to be perfect and you're not alone. You can escape the path set out by you from your upbringing and you don't have to fall to bullies. There are people who care about you and people who depend on you. No matter how dark this world may seem, you're not in it alone, and knowing that, it makes things a bit brighter. I am still in the day treatment program but while there I reach out to some of the younger kids. I really enjoy helping people, I might even considering volunteer programs to help troubled youths. I've had a fair share of pain and I believe that the world is bad enough, we don't need to hurt each other anymore.

2014-02-07 21:57:00 Author: Jaquan1254 Posts: 49

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LOL I'm joking.

2014-02-07 23:08:00 Author: butter-kicker Posts: 1061

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I have mixed feelings.

2014-02-08 00:17:00 Author: Schark94 Posts: 3378

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You should be a writer.

2014-02-08 10:00:00 Author: comishguy67 Posts: 849

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You should be a writer. Spelling and grammar isn't all there but I do enjoy writing in my journals. I'll share some entries in blog form from time to time. I like working with people hands on. I've been told to be a strange person but it makes people more at ease. Those kids became a new impetus "Stand so that others may never fall." Jejune thought, I know, but you can't do anything if you never try.

2014-02-08 15:51:00 Author: Jaquan1254 Posts: 49

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Fantastic writing. Glad to hear things are working out for you.

2014-02-20 03:25:00 Author: Ryan86me Posts: 1909

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