anti-suicide smock
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I was sleepwalking every night. But Sunday morning came after I woke in the hall again, startled and confused. Jake took me back to my room and encouraged me to sleep the remaining two hours till vitals. I didn’t think I could but woke up when he came in with the vitals machine and my
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“How are you feeling, Angel?” “Shitty. I want to die.” “Are you still thinking of suicide?” “All the time.” “Do you feel safe in the hospital?” The morning of my assessment, the next day on a Thursday. The very nurse who took my bedding and shower curtain was conducting it, and it was curiously early.
Documenting my journey through the mental health system 