Traveling in this region is already difficult as it is, but one of the landmarks of I-95 is the infamous Woodrow Wilson bridge. People use it for travel, exercise, and in my case, a means to an end. I work in the city and refuse to buy a car or drive, so my travel is restricted to areas that I can metro or Uber to, but at least once a year, I have to cross that bridge on my trek to Chesapeake, VA for our annual Friendsgiving. My relationship with the landmark and my healing start with our history. I’ve been avoiding this story, but..

*sigh*
Here goes.

It was a chilly November night and I was out with my ex at an event my sis was sponsoring at a local hotel. We went out to support him, and of course get some amazing food and cocktails. Shit was bomb. During that time, I had been having issues with my mental health that were surfacing more and more. I was seeing a therapist and a psychiatrist for meds. I had been diagnosed with Bipolar II Disorder, Anxiety Disorder, and Seasonal Depressive Disorder. The meds were doing weird things to me and people were starting to notice. About 9:30 or so, my social clock expired and I was ready to bounce. I was feeling strange but I couldn’t explain to my boyfriend at the time what was wrong, which I’m sure was infuriating. I told him what I thought I needed and we ended up in a fight. I dropped him off at home and headed home alone to face my demons. My emotions grew stronger and by the time I was approaching the national harbor I was in full meltdown mode. I was getting ready to cross the bridge, eyes filled with tears, sobbing frantically at the top of my lungs when a thought enters my mind that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

End it all. Right here

I wiped my face, and pull over to the shoulder on the side going in to VA, about a quarter way into the bridge. Cars were speeding by and I was waiting for an opportunity to exit my truck, so I could head right over and jump off the side. There was a lot of traffic that night for some strange reason, so cars kept coming and coming. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity waiting for things to ease up, tears still streaming down my face. Cars continue to zoom past at alarming rate and I couldn’t even open my door. I had the wherewithal not to involve anyone else in my shenanigans, so I didn’t open the door to the busy traffic. I had to jump. It was the quickest most painful way. After what seemed like 20 more minutes, I sat there frozen with a variety of emotions. I wanted to get out. I needed to end it, but the fucking traffic was so bad. Partially coming to my senses, I called the police in tears and let them know I was on the bridge, planning to jumping off, but I couldn’t get out of the car. The dispatcher took all of my information, and stayed on the phone until the police got there. This stranger talked to me like she understood everything I was grappling with, and she comforted me. Three police cars arrived and officers approached my vehicle slowly asking me questions for their safety and mine. They sat there for another 10 minutes talking me out of the car and letting me know what next steps were. I was able to communicate with one of my friends to let them know that I had been taken, but I wasn’t sure where I was going. I was handcuffed and placed in the back of the police car, then taken to a mental health holding unit in SE.

Once inside, they took all of the items I had with me, including my phone, wallet, other electronics, and catalogued everything before handing me a gown and sending me to a room. They asked me if I wanted food or if I needed to talk to anyone. I checked in with the doctor on duty and told him everything that happened. He asked me about my medical and mental health history and was able to give me the same meds I was already taking. I slept the entire night. I woke up to eat breakfast the next morning and spoke to the doctor, and completed another session with him around mid afternoon. Later that day, I was released. They gave me all my items and I was able to contact my friends to let them know where I was. They had been worried all night. They came and picked me up and took me to eat. We talked and talked and talked until I got tired of talking. I really just wanted to sleep after all that. They took me to get my car and I drove off to go home to rest.

It seemed so unreal. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I couldn’t tell my family. I was the “put together” one; the one who always made good choices. How could I live with what I did? I felt this way for months on end. I also realized that if I didn’t do something soon, my next suicidal ideation could be the one that took me out. I was admitted again voluntarily the very next month. I took myself to the hospital and agreed to the three day hospitalization for my own safety. The treatment was different. Being in a “psych ward” is a very jarring experience. The people there were no different from me. No one’s walking around drooling at the mouth and screaming for no reason. Everyone just wants to sleep and go home. Professionals, college students, kids, the homeless people, and everyday people who at first glance looked what everyone considered normal all shared the same space, and went to group, and talked about feelings, and cried, and ate snack together because our mental health issues impacted our daily lives. After three days, I was forever changed and grateful for the support system I had. Writing about it still gives me chills.

I’ve heard the saying so many times: “It usually gets worse before it gets better.” A lot of times that’s true, but only if you’re able to recognize how bad it is from the beginning. When you take charge of your health and healing you are able to better recognize the signs and symptoms that exist. This has been a pretty hard season thus far. There’s been some death, a lot of fatigue, dark days, dark thoughts, and feelings of loneliness, but I’ve been honest and upfront about what this time of year would be like for me. Those around me are aware, so they have the choice to be as active as they choose. Give people the power to help you. Those who want to help, will.

I walked away with important lessons. Learn yourself. Acknowledge your feelings. Keep those close who ride this wave with you. Celebrate your growth often. Eliminate what’s unnecessary. Don’t stop healing and growing. 2019 is looking a little tired cause we been kicking that bitch ass this year. Let’s finish strong. 2020 is a fresh start and looking for everything I’ve been waiting to manifest.