Warning: This post may be triggering for some people…
I love blankets. Growing up, my grandma always made us a quilt every couple years for our birthdays. I love blankets because they hold so much memory and meaning, especially when they were a gift. I have blankets from two of my friends and whenever I wrap myself up in them, I feel as if they are giving me a hug.
My grandma’s most recent quilt she made me, was given to me a few years ago. I don’t ever use it, and I think she is a bit offended by it. The thing is that the blanket holds bad memories for me. She gave it to me when I was admitted to the psych ward and then transferred to the surgical ward when they discovered I was malnourished.
I can’t even handle looking at it without the terrible feelings and memories that are linked to it, rush back. That year was hell for me. I will probably never forget it. The year before I was admitted, was spent trying to get a diagnoses for my seizures. I spent more of my time getting multiple EEGs, than I did at school.
After I was finally diagnosed with non electro graphic seizures, I was sent into a rapid spiral down to severe depression. People kept telling me that I can’t control my seizures and that it’s not my fault. Then I would have one and I remember waking to my parents or other family members discussing how angry they were that I kept having them. My dad being the worst culprit for telling me that I was faking it.
Every negative thing just sent me deeper and deeper into the depression, until I just had enough. I began planning and preparing for my exit from this world. Two years ago today, I was going to kill myself. I was saying goodbye to a friend and before I knew it, my mom was in my room. Reading my will and scolding me for ever thinking of committing suicide.
I was admitted to the hospital the next day and sent to the psych ward. I woke up the next morning, after being admitted to the psych ward, in the emergency room. I had had another one of my seizures during the night and the on call Doctor wanted to get me an EEG. He didn’t believe that it was a non electro graphic seizure. He said it looked too real.
So, I was sent to get another EEG taken that revealed it was indeed one of my usual seizures. I was then sent back to the ward to sleep, and I woke up again in the emergency room because of a high temperature of 103 degrees Fahrenheit. They ran tests and discovered I hadn’t eaten in nine days.
I was the. Sent to the surgical ward to get weened off the migraine medication that caused my loss of appetite, and to get a feeding tube inserted. That is where I met J and his service dog, Grace. That is when I got the blanket. My grandma laid the blanket on my hospital bed and looked at me with disappointment.
That is when the guilt and shame began. That look is all I see when my grandma looks at me. Disappointment. So, I don’t use the blanket that holds all that shame, guilt, disappointment, and painful memories. I know that is all my family sees in me anymore, and it really hurts. I gave up. I couldn’t keep strong.