*If you’re interested in reading Part 1, click here*
When you’re filling out paperwork, after being hospitalized, and the personnel asks you if wanted to die, if you really meant to jump, do not tell her the truth; they’ll only use it against you to keep you locked up longer.
When you tell the unfeeling personnel the truth–that you actually did want to die, tried so hard to die, and she looks straight through you with glassy, foggy eyes that make you feel smaller than a pregnant ant, you will wish that you had jumped.
When a kind soul offers her arms for you to cry into, cry into them, for they are the only remnants of home, save for the clothes on your back.
When they strip you naked and you stand in front of them in nothing but a paper gown, as they search for anything you might have on you to harm yourself with, you’ll want nothing more than to have the floor open you up and swallow you whole.
When your mother picks you up after being discharged, do not notice that her hair is a mess, sprawled out in all directions, for she is a woman who cares deeply about appearances. Do not look into her eyes and see how much damage, confusion, and sleeplessness you caused.
When you return to normalcy, you will feel loneliest and outraged the most when you’re with people who make jokes and insensitive comments about “those crazy people” and how they “need to be locked up.”
You’ll regret not being able to hold down those pills or not jumping off the roof at least 15 times since your discharge date.
You may have flashbacks and intrusive memories. Do not let these stop you from living in the present.
Recovery is a bitch but not always.
Many people will not understand and will blame demonic influence or a desire for attention as the underlying reason for your attempt. Pay them no mind. Unless they’ve been there, they’re not going to understand.
Learning to love yourself is going to be the hardest thing you ever do.
Musings of a Wanderer 
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