So I got put in a psych ward.

Wow it's been a while. Things... crashed a few hours after my last post on here. And after a friend needed to call 911 to save me from myself, I opened my eyes to a few things that I had been missing.

It's a result of getting sent to a psych ward for a few days.

Luckily, I felt better once I was on my medication again. That was the issue, I had forgotten I still had some and stopped taking it. Then everything piled on top of everything else, and I just exploded, and... well. That.

After I got discharged, I got back on Discord to figure out a few things. People in my server were glad I was okay, some said sternly to not do it again, and a few offered to help with things. But it took ASentientBot's messages to me privately to make me realize something about myself that even I hadn't been able to pinpoint.

I thought that by accepting Chiara's death, I would feel better and get back to truly living my life again. However, subconsciously, I was still in pain. There was still something that I needed.

ASentientBot's messages helped me understand that I needed a friend. And not just a regular oh-i-want-to-hang-out-with-you kind of friend. The kind of friend that I can actually relax around. That one that calms me down, and is willing to talk about feelings and thoughts and emotions with me. Who actually wants to help, and even offers things out of the blue.

I needed the kind of friend that Chiara was to me again.

That wasn't easy to do, though. I shared my entire story with her, which means I communicated. I'm not good at doing that, even with my own family. If I feel attacked, I retreat. I stop talking and shut down. And it takes time for me to come back out of my shell again.

Because of this, I don't really trust anyone to this point anymore. My siblings used to always hate on me, my parents would get mad for the tiniest mistakes, teachers never really understood and brushed it off, and friends... I never really had any beyond Chiara. The scars I gained from my past were like superglue on the door to my internal prison.

It's not healthy to be like this. I sure don't want to be like this, with one cherry on the top causing the entire cake to crumble. I have coping mechanisms, both on computers and off, but it didn't fix the issue. And when issues in my family and with my parents took some of my mechanisms away, my mind already so clouded and confused, I was beyond my limit.

Jess, the girl who dialed 911 and ASentientBot, I came to realize, were both my friends. And not just a regular oh-i-want-to-hang-out-with-you kind of friend. The kind of friend that I can actually relax around. That one that calms me down, and is willing to talk about feelings and thoughts and emotions with me. Who actually wants to help, and even offers things out of the blue. They showed me that they were the kind of friend that Chiara was to me, even throughout dealing with my flaws.

And for the first time since Chiara died... I have people that I can feel safe around. That I know will support me when I need it. And will even go to the lengths of sending me to a psych ward if it means that I have the slightest chance of recovering and seeing them again.

I want to thank them for staying with me, even in their currently limited capacities of reaching me, even when I wasn't the greatest person to be around. I've gained some valuable life lessons from them and from this experience, and I wouldn't be typing this here today without them.

And without someone else, but I'll get to her in a later post.