crisis Archives - Bipolar Burble Blog

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What to Do If You Have an Ongoing Psychiatric Crisis + Planning Ahead

Posted by Natasha Tracy | Mar 28, 2023

In an ongoing psychiatric crisis, you’re in extreme distress, but your life is not on the line. It’s not an acute psychiatric emergency. (For information on acute psychiatric emergencies, please see here.) While an acute psychiatric emergency almost always requires a stay in a treatment facility, an ongoing psychiatric crisis doesn’t necessarily. The idea here is to get help as soon as possible to prevent the crisis from becoming an acute psychiatric emergency that does require hospitalization. You also want to think about planning ahead for psychiatric crises/emergencies.

The Desperation of Mental Illness and Depression

Posted by Natasha Tracy | May 16, 2012

I woke up one morning in 1994 crushed with depression. The first thing I thought of that morning was how much I wanted to kill myself, and if I couldn’t do that, then how much I wanted to hurt myself. I kept cutting implements and bandages near my bed just in case the feelings were too much to bear.

Of course, this was like every morning of my 16-year-old life. I was depressed, but I didn’t know it. I only knew that I wanted to die. I needed to die. I needed it like most people needed breath. And I knew that no one understood.

Home Life, Suicide and Depression

My home life was one of the things driving me to depression and granting me the leanings of suicide. Things there were a hellish nightmare of screaming and hate. And the people related to me and forced to love me gave me no consolation whatsoever as I was sure that they didn’t. These people hated me and wanted me gone every bit as much as I did.

This was, at least partially, my depression talking, but I didn’t know it then. I didn’t know what depression was and I didn’t know how loudly it spoke.

The Only Place That Would Have a Depressed Me

So I found myself in my car trying to drive anywhere away from there. Away from the nexus of crazy. So I drove to the only place that I knew would have me – to the house of my rapist.

As is most often the case my sexual abuse was complicated. And while I hated what this man in his 40s did to me the one thing I couldn’t live without was his love. He would tell me he loved me. This was undoubtedly a lie but convinced as I was that no one else did, that my life was worthless and that I should die, that one sliver of love offered by a minion of Satan made me keep breathing.

I arrived at his house to find him not home – away, undoubtedly grooming other little lovelies for his nest. So I did the only thing I could think to do, I curled up on a square of cement near his front steps and went to sleep weeping – an attempt to escape the world that was trying to kill me.

A Picture of Mental Illness in Crisis

This is a picture of a girl in crisis. A girl so tightly wound in the grasp of depression that she can see no way of dealing with it at all. A girl so desperate to feel anything but the pain of mental illness she was prepared to put her body and her soul in harm’s way just to not feel like death was upon her for one brief moment in time.