We are finally back from the hospital. J survived this suicide attempt. (See previous post, here). We spent many hours sitting in the ER, but by the time a doctor saw her she was feeling better. While waiting, she was shaking, clawing at her skin, and mumbling to herself. People around us in the waiting area looked on with pity in their eyes. I didn’t care; all I wanted was some help for J. After a while, she finally got a bed and talked with the doctor on call. When he came and talked to me, I was able to confirm what she told him; the major crisis was over and she was no longer a danger to herself. He released her.
We were able to get an appointment to see her psychiatrist, so when we left the hospital we drove straight there. J stopped going to therapy about a year ago because she (nor I) could not afford it. He told her that he would do the therapy and she could make payments and work on a sliding scale. I am so grateful to him! There are good people in the world!
She is exhausted and I am exhausted, but we are home and she is safe. That is the best Christmas present I could have.