The Begining


Hello, my name is Gabby, I am 17, from New Zealand and i suffer from depression.

I dont think i could really put a start date on it, because honestly the amount of time i spent denying it, pretending i was okay, when i really wasn’t was long.

On the 11th of June 2013, was the day that my world came crashing down. I hit rock bottom and i was stuck.

I got up that morning with a horrible feeling that today, was not just going to be any other day. I got dressed and went to school. By 9AM i asked my teacher if i could go to the nurse, he said yes.

As i was walking over, my breathing increased and i couldn’t stop shaking. I ran to the bathroom and tried to make as little noise as possible while i had a panic attack. I was finally able to calm myself down and walked to the nurse. When i got there i told her i had a terrible headache and felt like i was going to be sick. She gave me 2 paracetamol and put me in the other room to have a lie down. Now, the reason she didn’t send me home right away is because of my record of going home because i was sick. (Parents: I wasn’t actually sick for 1/4 of the school year, i just couldn’t handle going to school) She rang my parents who told her to keep me for a while longer because they were busy. My mind was going crazy on whether i just walk out and leave or i tell her. I knocked on her door and said that i was actually feeling a lot better and she gave me a note to return to class.

Little did she or anybody else know, that i was not going to go back to class. Really, i was leaving school and busing home. Words can not describe how anxious i was waiting for the bus. Scared that somebody would drive past and see me. After what seemed like forever i got on, i swiped my card didn’t even look or talk to anybody. I had my headphones i and music fully up. I got off the bus up the road from my home, this is when i began to get so bad, i had another panic attack while walking down my road all the way to my house. To my relief nobody was home, because i couldn’t imagine explaining to them why i had just left school. I paced around my house crying uncontrollably, i had saved up a few pills over the past month and the bottle was in my hand. I grabbed a bottle of alcohol out of the cupboard and drank. 1 pill, 2 pills, 3 pills… and so on, i lost count. A mix of paracetamol, cold and flu tablets and Malibu straight (which i now hate).. I went to the bathroom and help a piece of paper in one hand, a pen in the other. I wrote a note to my dad, step-mum and mum.

Half an hour passed and i was in great pain, i couldn’t stop crying and shaking, i managed to get up and grab my phone. and a card, that my doctor had given me which had the crisis teams number on it. As i dialed the number and pressed talk i put the phone laying on my ear with me lying down.  “Hello mental health Crisis team, my names… how can i help” was the voice that greeted me on the other end. This lady heard me crying, she asked for my name and if i was okay. She is the one who called the ambulance, and my dad and step-mum. She was with me the whole time, i couldn’t breathe and every time i would get upset again she would tell me one thing “Listen to me Gabby, i need you to breathe, put your shoulders down, and make sure they dont rise for me.” My shoulders pretty much up around my ears, and she was the only one who could bring them down. The ambulance arrived and i was taken off.

To that lady on the other end of the line, i dont know if you told me your name or not, but i never got the chance to say thank you. You helped me so much. Crisis Team, you are amazing, keep up the good work.

I was tired and could feel my eyes closing. The whole ambulance ride the lady beside me (who i met again) was pinching me to stay awake. We arrived at the hospital. Now, my veins are incredible tiny so trying to get a needle in was more difficult then imaginable. After countless tries, and me swimming around in my head of chaos, (oh and we cant forget vomiting all over the nurse who my dad joked about that he must have been vomited on before.. nope i was the first.. yay), they finally got a vein. I didn’t need a antidote for the paracetamol, and a psych team was on its way down to ‘assess me’ after i was physically fine. The lady who came down was really nice, i sat in a room with her and explained everything, she looked at me with hazel eyes that looked into my soul as if she could feel my pain. I honestly believe that also she helped me so much too (thank you, even though you made me wait for what seemed like forever). I was asked if i wanted to go to the mental health unit at Starship Hospital (CFU its called. Child and family unit). I thought it would be best if i go there, the ambulance took me there, at 9 or 10pm.. I arrived and was greeted by a friendly nurse with a smile on her face (murn, i think her name was) and taken to my room. Now i dont know how many people have seen movies but, you know the rooms that have four walls and a bed in the corner, that was my room. I sat on the bed, looked at my dad, and that’s when i really didn’t want to be left there. I was terrified. Even worse i had no close, no toothbrush or anything.. I was still in the clothes i vomited Malibu in and it was horrid, ended up sleeping in an over sized hospital gown which couldn’t do up properly… That first night was pretty bad, i had a million thoughts in my head that i couldn’t control, and even though i wanted to go home, i knew i wouldn’t be safe from myself if i did.

More about my hospital experiences another time…

Blog soon,

Love G.


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