this may be triggering (self harm). when i was 17 i shared some things with a therapist about my dad. i was scared to tell her but after sharing, she told me it wasn’t something that she would need to report. so i was caught off guard when the cops came to my job and pulled me out of work to ask me questions about it. when my mom picked me up from work she was really angry with me and questioned why i would ever say my dad did any of those things. i was really hurt that she didn’t question it any of it was true, and instead immediately assumed i was just lying. when i got home my whole family treated me horribly. they thought i did this so that i could hurt my father. i didn’t want that at all. all i wanted was to talk about what i was feeling. i had therapy a few days later and was extremely angry at my therapist. she asked me how i was doing and i couldn’t believe her. i started going off on her and asked her why the hell she would lie to me and go report it anyways. she told me she didn’t report it and didn’t know what i was talking about. i broke down and i guess said some things that made her feel i would be a harm to myself so they couldn’t let me go home. they sent me to a psychiatric hospital and my parents were upset with me with the situation. when i got to the hospital i didn’t know what to do. i was wheeled in strapped to a damn hospital bed while all the girls came around whispering about me. i came right at dinner so all the girls stared from across the hall as i waited to be told what to do or where to go or what was going to happen. i sat there for what felt like hours until they finally told me to go join the girls. they were all extremely friendly. the nurses told me what room i would be in and all the girls warned me about the person (they/them) i was sharing a room with. they talked of how weird and scary that person was. thankfully i had another roommate so i wouldn’t be alone with the “weirdo”. i went to my room and used the restroom. i saw some pads on a shelf and thought about how i would start my period here. i lifted the pad and under was half a toothbrush covered in old blood. someone had broken it and used it on themselves. i stared at it and placed the pad back down, hiding it again. i never said anything. as i spent my days there all the girls would get calls from their families. i would ask every day if i had received any from mine. and every day the nurses would give me a sorry smile and tell me no. my strange roommate would never leave the room to join the rest of the girls. they would come out to eat and go back and lay in bed all day. i began to feel really sad for them. no one tried to talk to them because of their appearance. i decided i wouldn’t be that way and tried to talk to them. i talked to them every day and i could tell they appreciated it. they told me a lot about their past and their family and how they had been in the hospital for a long time. how their parents told them that they didn’t want her anymore because of her numerous attempts. that they had no other family so they would be homeless when they were discharged. they told me that they had planned on taking their life in that hospital and told me how they planned on doing it. they then told me they decided not to do it because they couldn’t stand the thought of having me walk in and be the one to find them. they told me that once they got out of there they would make sure that this time they would get it right and they would take their life. they were always complaining of being itchy and one day they lifted their pant leg and sleeves to scratch and i saw their skin. not a single clean spot. their entire body was covered in cuts. i pretended not to see but i still can’t get it out of my head. many times they would lock themselves in the restroom. i thought they were just taking a shit but after a while i realized what they were doing. i would sometimes hear sniffles coming from inside. i didn’t know what to do. the nurses would come in every couple of minutes to “check” on us but all they did was make sure we responded when our name was called. and so i couldn’t take it knowing what they were doing in there. multiple times i would have to talk them out of the restroom begging them to stop and to come out. i would beg them to come watch tv with me or do anything else. eventually it was finally discharge day. i made a lot of friends in there and we were told not to share contact information with any of them. of course i ignored it and left those friends all a note. i thought about leaving one for my roommate, but in the end decided not to. it’s been 4 years now