November 2019

I walked in and asked for psychiatric help because I believed my medications (that I told my psychiatrist, Dr.Augustine I didn’t like) were making me incredibly suicidal.
They basically said sleep it off, we’ll have the crisis team call you in the morning.
I had told them I had tried to cope with the ideation for three weeks.
They scoffed and asked why I hadn’t called my psychiatrist, I did, he didn’t believe me and asked me to give the medication a chance.
They asked me where my friends and family were.
I live in this city alone, away from my family. They made distasteful faces when I told them my best friend took the night off to go have a few drinks. (He’s not my keeper, he’s allowed to relax)
(Why are you blaming me for not taking the right actions? I’m doing the best I can with what I’ve got)
I had to walk back into the hospital and say “no, listen, I’m ready to die”
They spent an hour looking into my suicidal history before admitting me instead of believing me.
Not the first or even the second time.