#NerdsUnite: My first adult heartbreak (PT. 6)
<editorsnote> In this series of posts, I hope to explore and examine my first adult relationship and subsequent heart break in the hopes of releasing what may or may not still be present. </editorsnote>
Alrite my sexy lover faces. You ready for the next part? Hereeeeeeee we go ... Here's part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, and part 5.
Here's the song that goes with the post ...
I woke up in the chair sometime later. My body ... my soul ... everything hurt. I couldn't live life the way I was leading it anymore, I just had no idea what my next doable action was emotionally to learn how to pick myself back up.
I feel a tap on my shoulder. Excuse me, Jennifer, someone named Tom is here to see you?
Where's Noah? I said.
I don't know sweetie, but Tom said he is going to take you anywhere you need to go.
Tom worked for Noah, and was one of his long time friends. He's 20 years his senior, but a genuinely rad dude ... just not someone I wanted to see at that moment.
The nurse helped me up and out of the chair and we walked outside to the front lobby.
Tom was startled by my appearance. He looked at the nurse, is she okay?
She's calm, and we already have a call into the hospital so they are expecting her in the emergency room. What you need to do is go back to the house, and help her gather some things for at least a couple of days.
Sure, he said.
Don't grab anything of value, just make sure she is comfortable.
Not a problem, he said as he looked back over at me staring in shock.
I say nothing as I walk into his truck.
I curl up in the front seat - let's go, please, I just want to go.
We have to go back to the house quickly just to grab you a few things.
That's fine, I say. Whatever we're doing though, let's just do it.
I fall asleep in his truck, and Tom goes back into the house and put together a bag of clothing for me.
When he starts the car again, I am awoken.
Where is Noah?
He's working, and couldn't make it down. He sent me though to make sure you were okay.
Jen - he says firmly, what happened to you?
I don't know I say, I just can't keep living life this way. It's fake. Everything I am doing is fake.
I understand, he said.
Not wanting to discuss anymore, and wanting the awkwardness to subside, I closed my eyes and fell asleep for the remainder of the car ride.
The car comes to a stop.
I open my eyes and see the red Emergency Room sign.
Do you want me to walk you inside? he said
No, I'm fine. I genuinely appreciate the ride, Tom. Please tell Noah I love him.
Will do.
I lower myself down from the truck and walk into the hospital. I walk up to the nurse sitting at the check in.
Hi, my name is Jen Friel - I think someone called ... she cuts me off.
Yes, the automatic door opens to the emergency room wing, come right this way.
Another nurse greets me at the entrance.
She's petite, about 50 with sandy blond hair, and bright inviting eyes.
Hi, Jennifer. I'm sorry to hear you're not feeling good. So glad you came to the right place though.
I couldn't kill myself, I confess. It didn't make sense. But why am I leading this life? What am I doing?
She wraps a blanket around me. That is what we are going to help you figure out, she said. Have you tried killing yourself before?
Yeah, once. I swallowed a bunch of tylenol PM, it made me so so sick.
You're lucky you're still alive, she said.
If you can call this lucky, then yes - you are right.
She hugged me. It's okay sweetie. It will all be okay soon enough. We're just going to focus right now on making you better. Can you have a seat for me?
I then sat in a folding chair outside of her office. I just need to call upstairs to the ward and check to see if someone can admit you.
Admit me? I said
Yes, you're being placed on what we call a 5150 which means you are a danger to yourself or someone else. We have to put you on a psychiatric hold for the next 72 hours.
SEVENTY TWO HOURS??!
I was also supposed to go back east and visit my parents for a long weekend later the very next day. I was now facing the reality that not only am I in this hospital not able to leave, but now am going to have to call my parents and explain to them WHY I can't leave.
Instead of lashing out I remained quiet. Don't react, I thought. You're not operating from logic right now. Assess the situation first then plot next step. There has to be a way I can talk myself out of this, I thought.
After about an hour in the emergency room I was then taken upstairs to the 5th floor.
We stood at the entrance of the ward and rang the buzzer.
This looks like a prison, I thought.
The door opened, and the nurse guided me through with the blanket still wrapped around me.
They're going to ask you a bunch of questions now. Just stay calm and answer as clearly as possible.
Yes ma'am.
She hugged me and lovingly placed her hand on my cheek. You're so beautiful, please take care of yourself, get better.
I smiled, I'll try.
I then walked into a tiny room next to the nurse's station where the process of being admitted began.
Now, if you guys want to read the whole story on my time spent in the nut house, you can read this post here. These series of posts are about Noah, and Noah only. I don't want to re-tell a story that's already been told, but rather, highlight how this situation impacted our relationship.
My most vivid memory from this entire experience was when my head hit my pillow that first night. To this day I can still hear the clicking of the stapler from all of the paperwork I had just filled out.
So.
Much.
Paperwork.
Click ... click ... click ...
Click ... click ... click ...
Click ... click ... click ...
Click ... click ... click ...
This is it, I thought, I am officially crazy.
Shortly after the ativan kicked in and I fell asleep.
The next morning, after oversleeping - I went to the phone bank and called Noah.
Please deposit 25 cents please, the automated operator responded.
I put in my quarter and dialed his number.
Straight to voicemail.
I leave a message ...
Hi, it's me. I don't have long, but I just wanted to say I'm fine, that I love you, and that visitors hours are this afternoon in case you wanted to come by.
I then gave him the ward info and who and what he should ask for.
I love you, Noah. I'm just ... so sorry.
I begin to cry as I hang up the phone.
The day marched on, and come visitors hours I was excited hoping to see Noah.
We hadn't talked since I had been admitted, but I was confident he would at least stop by.
I walked into the cafeteria and watched people pour in to visit the other patients.
Fathers, mothers, grandparents, friends, everyone had someone.
I sat and patiently waited. He'll be here, I thought. He loves me, he can't not be here!
45 minutes go by.
Maybe he had trouble finding parking, I thought - or he's lost.
It's okay, he loves me, he'll be here.
15 more minutes go by.
Visitors hours are coming to a close, please be aware that in a few minutes you will need to leave - the nurse announced.
Wait, that's it? Just 1 hour? That's not fair! Everyone had someone! Noah never came!
I didn't want to tell any of my friends or anyone else that I had a nervous breakdown. Noah knew, and I had called my parents - but other than that, he would have been the only person to visit me.
I still to this day remember that very moment when it hit me that he wasn't coming. I stared out the window of the cafeteria ... how could he not come? I thought. I'm in a hospital, I just had a nervous breakdown ... this is the scariest thing to ever happen to me, and I'm all alone?
Yep, top 5 for the worst moment of my life.
Right there, in that moment it hit me that I was going to have to figure this out for myself, and if I wanted to go home and get myself together I was going to be the only one that was going to do it.
I managed to catch the eye of the doctor and asked if I could speak to him for a second.
I explained to him that I had a temporary lapse in rational thought, but that I was supposed to be on a plane to visit my parents in a few hours - could I be released to their custody?
He sternly asked me to sit down.
Jennifer, why are you here?
I'm doing life wrong, I said. I'm just not sure what to do next - but this isn't the answer.
You're smart, Jennifer. Very smart. The notes from the nurses all say the same thing ... why is she here?
Any history of mental illness?
Well, my great grandmother might have been bi-polar. But other than that, I'm not sure.
He takes out his notepad scribbling something down, and hands me the note.
Take this for when you go home - for now I'll tell the nurses to add it to your meds.
I look down at the prescription it says one word - lithium.
If you can get someone to pick you up at 9am, we'll make sure you get released. I need you to understand though - this is only the SECOND time I have ever done this in my professional career and I am only making an exception because you are not going back to the immediate environment you came from, and you'll be monitored by your parents.
Thank you, I said. Thank you!
I hug the doctor, run over to the phone bank and call Noah.
It goes straight to voicemail.
Hi, it's me. Can you pick me up at 9am tomorrow? I'm getting released.
I then gave him directions on how to get up to the ward, and who he needed to ask for.
I closed with love you!
I made no mention of being disappointed over not seeing him during visitors hours - I can forgive anything, I thought - I'm now getting out, I'm getting a new lease on life.
A new lease on life? Maaayybbbeee, or maybe a new lease on a new apartment.
Yep! Next up! Noah picks me up, and a few weeks later I get a commuter apartment. Shit got baaaaadddddd!!! Thanks for reading nerderinos!!
#nerdsunite
