My Suicide Attempt, Part 2: The Abyss
Before you read this post. If you haven’t already, please catch yourself up with Part 1 below:
From the artificial hospital walls of Marchwood, I found myself entangled in a web of despair and vulnerability. The emotional scars from my suicide attempt were still fresh, I longed for the support of my family. However, my mother’s advice to “get medicated up to your eyeballs and pretend you are normal” left me feeling isolated, and my father’s accusations of attention-seeking pierced my already fragile heart. For over three months, my mother did not visit me, and my youngest brother’s birthday slipped away as I was forbidden to speak to him on that special day.
Within the hospital walls, I grappled with destructive coping mechanisms, resorting to banging my head off the wall and trying to hang myself as an outlet for my pain. The haunting experience of crafting a makeshift shiv from my nicotine inhaler further deepened my struggle with self-harm. A diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder came with its challenges, and I was prescribed Quetiapine, an antipsychotic medication.
Surrounded by other patients in distress, I bore witness to their agonizing cries and self-inflicted harm. A chilling encounter with a 14-year-old girl who shared explicit details of how to end my life shook me to my core. After she told me this information, I went to my room and tried to commit suicide, leading to restrictions that denied me even the comfort of a bed sheet or bathroom door.
Yet amidst the darkness, a beacon of light emerged in the form of an empathetic nurse named Emma. She reached out to console me after a terrifying nightmare, where three faceless women taunted and tormented me. She held me like a mother would her child and for the first time since I arrived at Marchwood, I felt safe. Her compassion ignited a flicker of hope within me, reminding me that I was not alone in this harrowing journey.
Amid this tumultuous period, I crossed paths with Layla, a fellow patient. As the days rolled into August 2020, our bond grew stronger, and a profound connection blossomed between us. A whirlwind romance unfolded, and we found ourselves falling in love amidst the hospital’s depressing walls.
But just as August drew to a close, a harrowing event shook the grounds of Marchwood. After a desperate act of self-harm, I found myself restrained on the cold floor of my bathroom, a staff member’s hands pressed firmly upon me. The taste of physical restraint ignited a fire within me, sparking a daring plan to escape the hospital’s confinements.
With the echoes of uncertainty lingering, I knew that my journey through Marchwood Hospital was far from over. The impending escape loomed ahead, daring me to step into the unknown….
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