A Hot Empty Mess: My Apartment & I


When I got home from the hospital Tuesday night, I walked into an apartment that was basically a reflection of my head. Nearly everything had been taken by my old roommates, who moved out the day after my suicide attempt. What was mine was left scattered everywhere. A lot of things are missing. I’m not sure where they went. There were no sheets on my bed and nothing had been cleaned.

I’m angry and empty and lost and filled with so many emotions that I’m not sure how to explain them. This apartment, looking torn apart and yet just as modern and aesthetically appealing as the day I moved in, is me.

And I hate it.

I can’t lay on the bed where I nearly took my last breaths. I can’t shower in the bathroom where there are still pills scattered everywhere. I can’t eat in the kitchen where I know people sat judging and wondering and waiting.

And recovery is just so messy and painful and I hate it.

Because everyone expects me to be completely okay or completely wrecked. There is no more in between. Constantly, I am asked “Are you okay?” and the second most popular question “Why didn’t you call me?”

Because this is my life. That was my suicide attempt it would have been my death.

Do I know how selfish that sounds? Of course! But it was my pain, and it still is, and if dying was how I chose to end it, that was my choice and you have no place guilt tripping me for it. I am allowed to suffer how I choose, because this suffering is mine, and I am not required to share it. I don’t care if you want me to burden you with it. These are my demons. I’m in treatment. Not you.

This is my mess, created by me. This is a home, wrecked by others.

That being said, I am not alone and I do not want to be. There are wonderful people in my life still. Some were residents in BHC, others were my family and friends that came before. There are good people on my side, and willing to help me clean up this mess, even the scattered pills.

I don’t know how much of a mess you are right now, but if you’re in a similar apartment, I get it. Just know that there are good people willing to help out. You can do a lot on your own if you want – I know that’s what I want – but it’s okay to ask if you need someone.

And it’s okay to not be okay.

Just don’t drown.

Head above water.



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