I was 15 almost 16 years old the first time I was put in handcuffs.

The only thing I remember is the taste of it as I sit up and came too. One nurse is telling me, “Its okay baby, get it up”. Another one says “keep throwing this up and we are going to keep pumping it right back in”. They did too and I could feel it hitting the bottom of my stomach. The tube down my throat felt like it was the size of an elephants trumpet. I have no recollection of how it got there all I knew at the moment was I didn’t want to throw up anymore. I wanted my momma.

I don’t remember getting to see my momma that night. I was a minor that had just tried to commit suicide. I woke up that night to a sweet nurse sitting with a crossword puzzle. As I came to she said “Jessica?” She told me what had happened and asked me if I needed anything. Water and sleep. She was there to sit with me, monitor, and make sure nothing else happened. She was a kind lady that I’ll forever remember.

I was 15 nearly 16 years old the first time I was in handcuffs. 2 officers came into my hospital room that morning and arrested me. Iv still in the arm only wearing a gown and my first pair of grippy socks. My parents weren’t there. They were told to go home. And honestly who knows what planet Larry was on those days.

They put me in the back of the cop car, still cuffed, and drove me to Lake Charles Memorial Hospital. The first lesson in a 72 hour hold. There’s not much in this world I don’t think my uncle Shane can’t do. When I tell you he did everything he possibly could to get me out of there. He even threatened the Dr 🤦🏻‍♀️ but that’s my uncle. When he loves he loves big. He loves me big and still pushes me along the way today. There was nothing anyone could do. I was a minor and the state’s property at that time.

It’s been so long ago I can’t remember much about that stay. What I do remember was a little boy who saw dead people and tried to jump off a bridge. All of a sudden those crazy jokes weren’t so crazy anymore. It was real and this baby was younger then me at the time. Maybe I didn’t have it so bad. What I’ve learned is not every battle is the same. Every time it’s different and even if the same 2 people go through the same battle they won’t have the same emotional outcome.

Struggling with anxiety and depression has been a life long battle for me. Even now theres lump in my throat just won’t give. At any moment I could just cry. As my eyes fill up with tears I tell myself to suck it up and I push it back down. Burying them. Things just aren’t how they’re supposed to be.

It’s been a while since I’ve felt anxiety like this. My medicine has really been helping me. But today not so much. I’m staying busy, trying to keep the positive thoughts in my mind. Taking a deep breath and letting it out.

I think back to that day and night. I’ve come a long way since then. I’ve made progress since January when I checked myself in for my mental health once again. I’m a work in progress and I’ll never stop trying to improve my life. I know good things are coming. I can feel it. ❤️