I didn’t know where to go next.

I literally was unable to do things that “normies” did.  I was becoming increasingly anxious, having on average two panic attacks a day.  I was not living, I was barely surviving.

On my last day of work (unbeknownst to me), I was so shaky with the drinks from the previous night, my anxiety, and my mixture of a morning cocktail and a Klonopin, that I definitely could not get on the 6 subway and head to midtown.  I wandered towards the bus.  The bus seemed calmer to me in my most drunken of states.  I got on and stumbled to a seat.  I was disheveled.  I hadn’t showered because I was afraid of having a panic attack in the shower.  If I did shower, I would make sure that I brought the bottle with me.

I stank of liquor; new and old.  I stank of body odor; old from NYC’s summer humidity and an apartment with broken air conditioning.  I most likely forgot to brush my teeth and I definitely had not indulged in any breakfast.

People were staring at me; but I hardly noticed.  In my delusional state, I thought they were staring because I looked hot.  I looked damn good for being drunk at 7am.  I rode the bus one stop and got off.  I didn’t even make it to 110th Ave.  I was in full panic.  My muscles were tensing up, my breathing was belabored, so I pulled out my water bottle full of vodka, I sat on the sidewalk in the oppressing August heat and drank.

I don’t remember much of anything after that.  I did not pass out, but I definitely blacked out.  The next thing I remember is being in the psych ward of Metropolitan hospital.  I looked around, trying to process what was happening.  Some guy next to me was speaking in Spanglish about detoxing from Heroin.  A really wasted woman who refused to wear pants walked about from room to room.  I remained in my chair.

The psych ward was locked and I started to feel claustrophobic and I noticed the security guard staring me down.  I did not know what was happening, but as I started to come more in focus, I noticed that I was handcuffed to the chair.

I screamed out, a guttaral scream from the depths inside of me.  I had never screamed for my life before.  But as I sat handcuffed to a chair, in a locked psych ward, I knew things would never be the same.  And then I puked to the side of me because I had no where to go.