Here's to Sascha. Hope she feels better.
So I've been really worried about a friend of mine down here. Her name is Sascha Blair. She's cute and fun and sarcastic.
This last week, she's been really worrying me, though, because all of a sudden, she's extremely depressed and irritable.
And I didn't see it at all. Not this anyway.
So I woke up to a phone call from Hale, another good friend of mine.
"Hey, Megan, it's Hale. Did you still need the car this morning?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Cuz, Blair's not taking it this morning after what happened last night, so I figured I'd call and tell you where I'm going to leave it."
"After what last night?"
"...You didn't get my text message? Fuck! Shit! I should've called, but I wasn't having the best of nights. Are you sitting down?"
"Yeah, I just woke up, I'm still laying down...What happened?"
"Blair tried to kill herself last night. Downed a whole bottle of Lortabs. We got her to the hospital in time for them to pump her stomach, but she's still there this morning."
"..."And all I could think was how frantically sad and upset she sounded when I'd talked to her on the phone last night around 930. And how worried I was about her after I'd gotten off the phone. And how I'd told her to come over the second she got off work so I could talk to her and help her out with anything.
"She was supposed to have come over last night to talk about whatever it was she was so depressed about..."
"Yeah, I know, Meg, but I gotta go. I'll come get the car from your apartment after work today. See ya."
"K, bye."
I think I'm probably the best person to have talked to Blair last night. Because I've been in her situation. And I've been the spectator. And you feel absolutely helpless in both. And I could've helped.
And I was even up until nearly 1 this morning. And I never heard a knock on the door, so I assumed that she talked with Hale or Lindsey and felt better.
You know, last week after her boyfriend dumped her because she's been so moody (which she's NEVER been before, at least for the last year and a half that I've known her), she came over to my place, slobbering drunk and crying.
I calmed her down in about ten minutes. I gave her a cigarette and some chinese food.
And yesterday, I saw her around 7 pm. And she looked great. She looked happy and beautiful. She'd gotten all dolled up for various reasons.
And she was genuinely happy. At least on the surface. And the next few layers, because I did not see this coming.
You'd think I'd be better at spotting something like this. Suicidal thoughts. Intentions. You'd think, after trying to kill myself before, I'd be able to prevent it somehow.
But this is the second friend in three months who's tried. And the first succeeded. And I wish I'd been there more for both of them.
I know Sascha knew I was here to help. I know she did.
I know how you felt completely, Janet, by the way. I had literally just asked her if everything was alright. I had just invited her over to talk it out and try to figure out something.
I'm sorry I put you through that, Janet. So sorry.
And now, I can't even go see her to tell her I love her and goodbye. Because I'm going to Norfolk. On Friday.
And she's in a 72-hour lockdown. No one in or out except nurses and docs.
And that 72 hours ends on Friday. So maybe I will get to see her.
I hope so. I want to tell her that she's not alone. I've been there. I'm not mad. I'm here to help. And I love her. And if she needs anything, I'll be just a phone call away.
EDIT:
I think I'm a magnet for unhappiness. Maybe that's my one calling in this world. To help others feel better about themselves and help them feel better. Maybe these two incidents are a sign from something saying that I'm not doing my job correctly. If so, I'm really going to attempt to do better in catching these things. I'm going to start doing my job.
This last week, she's been really worrying me, though, because all of a sudden, she's extremely depressed and irritable.
And I didn't see it at all. Not this anyway.
So I woke up to a phone call from Hale, another good friend of mine.
"Hey, Megan, it's Hale. Did you still need the car this morning?"
"Yeah, why?"
"Cuz, Blair's not taking it this morning after what happened last night, so I figured I'd call and tell you where I'm going to leave it."
"After what last night?"
"...You didn't get my text message? Fuck! Shit! I should've called, but I wasn't having the best of nights. Are you sitting down?"
"Yeah, I just woke up, I'm still laying down...What happened?"
"Blair tried to kill herself last night. Downed a whole bottle of Lortabs. We got her to the hospital in time for them to pump her stomach, but she's still there this morning."
"..."And all I could think was how frantically sad and upset she sounded when I'd talked to her on the phone last night around 930. And how worried I was about her after I'd gotten off the phone. And how I'd told her to come over the second she got off work so I could talk to her and help her out with anything.
"She was supposed to have come over last night to talk about whatever it was she was so depressed about..."
"Yeah, I know, Meg, but I gotta go. I'll come get the car from your apartment after work today. See ya."
"K, bye."
I think I'm probably the best person to have talked to Blair last night. Because I've been in her situation. And I've been the spectator. And you feel absolutely helpless in both. And I could've helped.
And I was even up until nearly 1 this morning. And I never heard a knock on the door, so I assumed that she talked with Hale or Lindsey and felt better.
You know, last week after her boyfriend dumped her because she's been so moody (which she's NEVER been before, at least for the last year and a half that I've known her), she came over to my place, slobbering drunk and crying.
I calmed her down in about ten minutes. I gave her a cigarette and some chinese food.
And yesterday, I saw her around 7 pm. And she looked great. She looked happy and beautiful. She'd gotten all dolled up for various reasons.
And she was genuinely happy. At least on the surface. And the next few layers, because I did not see this coming.
You'd think I'd be better at spotting something like this. Suicidal thoughts. Intentions. You'd think, after trying to kill myself before, I'd be able to prevent it somehow.
But this is the second friend in three months who's tried. And the first succeeded. And I wish I'd been there more for both of them.
I know Sascha knew I was here to help. I know she did.
I know how you felt completely, Janet, by the way. I had literally just asked her if everything was alright. I had just invited her over to talk it out and try to figure out something.
I'm sorry I put you through that, Janet. So sorry.
And now, I can't even go see her to tell her I love her and goodbye. Because I'm going to Norfolk. On Friday.
And she's in a 72-hour lockdown. No one in or out except nurses and docs.
And that 72 hours ends on Friday. So maybe I will get to see her.
I hope so. I want to tell her that she's not alone. I've been there. I'm not mad. I'm here to help. And I love her. And if she needs anything, I'll be just a phone call away.
EDIT:
I think I'm a magnet for unhappiness. Maybe that's my one calling in this world. To help others feel better about themselves and help them feel better. Maybe these two incidents are a sign from something saying that I'm not doing my job correctly. If so, I'm really going to attempt to do better in catching these things. I'm going to start doing my job.