My Night in the Hospital (and Why It Didn’t Help)


I have no doubt that this post is going to be much harder write than the last one, but it’s also something that has helped me to talk about. I’ve only told a few people the details of my night in the hospital, and it’s a hard memory. The thought of putting it out there attached to my name is terrifying, but, here goes nothing…

Thirteen months ago, I had my worst night so far (and hopefully ever). I can’t even remember why I started crying, but I know that I once I did, I didn’t stop for hours.

I was home with my sister and she was upstairs. I have no idea what she was feeling or thinking, and I’ve been too afraid to ask her since. I just know that she couldn’t come downstairs and hug me no matter how hard I begged.