Chapter 17

*The names of those that touched my life in the psych facility have been changed in the story for their privacy.
The announcement over the speakers startled me. It was so loud. 'All residents on the west wing need to come to the dining room for breakfast'. I wouldn't be going. I had no appetite whatsoever. I would just continue journaling. The hallway that was silent earlier now was filled with voices. I continued to write. After several minutes, it was quiet again. Someone knocked on my door and then opened it. "Kim. You need to come down the hall for breakfast." She had a very kind voice with an accent of some sort. I loved accents. In my normal state of mind, I loved to joke around and talk in various accents. Not today. She came beside my bed. She took my hand and I immediately began to cry. "I would rather not go if that's ok. I would like to just stay here in my room." She introduced herself as Juanita. Her big brown eyes looked at me with such compassion. "Please come to the dining room. They keep a close record of who does and does not go to various activities and it will only keep you here longer. It will help you to be around others." "No thank you, Juanita. I can't be around anyone right now." She looked disappointed and said, "Ok, I will bring you some food so that you can eat. You need to eat." I reluctantly agreed. I couldn't say no to this sweet thing that was trying to reach out to me.

I needed to talk to my friends. I needed to hear a familiar voice. I needed to know that they didn't hate me. My mind was replaying every minute of what I could remember from the night before. I couldn't believe it really happened. I lost my mind. How does a christian woman that has everything in life going for her lose her mind? Did my Lord allow it to happen? Did He choose for it to happen? As I tried to sort it out, it became very clear to me that my mind was still not right. I was now not only hopeless beyond comprehension, but I was also ashamed, embarrassed, and angry. I would go look for a phone. I wrapped up in a blanket that was on the bed and left the room. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I was leaving. I looked so old. My face was drawn, my eyes were swollen. Wow Kim, I thought, you truly are at rock bottom.

As I walked down the hall, people stared. I kept my head down and cried. I didn't want to talk to anyone, I wasn't interested in making acquaintances. I just wanted to find a phone. A young man, probably about 20 years old, put his hand out, "I'm Jay." I looked at him and kept walking. I know it was rude, but for some reason, today I didn't care.

I got out my list and picked up the phone. OK.....I wouldn't be going far. The cord was about 6 inches long. Hmmm....that's inconvenient. The reasoning behind that never entered my cluttered mind. I began to go down the list. No one answered. They were probably in church, right? I left them messages, pathetic messages.

It was 1pm, a special visiting hour that they had only on Sundays. Otherwise, only once per day at 6pm. How in the world am I going to do this? How can I not see my kids? What if no one comes to see me? The horrible feeling of abandonment came over me. This wasn't something I brought on myself, was it? Is this really what my Lord had planned for me? This is it? Some are taken through terrible life crisis, but shame and dishonor are not a part of their story. Terrible heartbreak, yes...but are they left with a feeling of the loneliness that I was feeling today? Maybe so. All I know is that my life will be different from this point on. Others will look at me differently. I can't blame them for that, heck I'm not sure that I'll be able to look in the mirror again without being disgusted. But I guess that's the price I pay for trying to end my life. It hurts people. It leaves them scarred. How do I get through this? How can this place possibly help me? An announcement over the loud speaker, "Kim B, report to the dining room. You have a visitor." My heart lept. I almost ran to the dining room. Mark was sitting by himself. He looked wiped out. His eyes were swollen and wet.