Ever been in the quiet room?
The one the therapist sends you to while she calls
around to find you a hospital bed?
It’s actually noisy because the chatter
in my head has no distraction.
The demon has free reign to tear me down.
What could be more pathetic than a 39 year
old woman sentenced to a room that has no
door and a security guard standing watch!
Echoes of my pain bouncing off the bare walls.
Tears staining the makeshift couch.
I feel vulnerable and alone.
Truth is I felt this way outside this room too.
I do not feel safe with myself.
I am not sure I can make sound decisions.
I am not winning the battle. I
am so close to giving up.
However, I seem to be resilient too.
I got myself to where I needed to be to
tell the right people who are getting me extra help.
I cannot do this on my own, that is painfully clear.
It’s so hard to be brutally honest
about what your own mind is doing.
I am hearing voices demanding I resign.
I have been given 3 options,
one of which MUST be successful,
In orchestrating my demise.
Lets be clear here.
My own mind is designing a successful outcome
of my attempt to take my life.
Now, if that’s not crazy….
But somehow I interceded or
maybe my higher power did.
The room still isn’t quiet.
But I am safe.
*Authored by the Fanatic.
Please say a prayer for her.She sent this to me just a few minutes ago. She is in the quiet room.
It is better to seek forgiveness than it is permission.