Game Changer for the better, calling EMT on Myself twice in 3 days.

The religious trinket above may have given me a sleepless night on Thursday July 25^th. But a good sleepless night filled with thought. Basically, at a restaurant in Howard beach late at night a kind stranger overheard my conversation with a friend. He ended up telling this stranger we were here because I was having a hard time. To make this short he told me he got this from the Vatican, and as he left, he told me, “I have a feeling good things are about to happen to you.”

I had a big author talk on Saturday that I was amped up for, and other stress in my life. Friday night no sleep. Saturday the program I went to was amazing, and I saw my favorite local band after work. Again, no sleep. I took the recommended dosage my psychiatrist recommended that day to the maximum, so I wasn’t sure. I called to leave a message on my psychiatrist’s voice mail. As I rambled a message, I realized through work I do have to call the EMT by dialing 911. So, I did that for myself. A half hour later they came and called me. I picked up and they asked me if I was able to meet them downstairs. I asked to go to St. John’s Episcopal hospital in Rockaway, after they told me with the medication, I took I should have been to sleep hours ago. The EMT worker was amazing and talked to me through the whole ride. I learned I need to take my diagnosed sleep apnea seriously, it could save my life. She also made sure I gave the right insurance card, and that I needed medical attention not psychiatric treatment. I got a hospital bed to sleep on, and an IV for dehydration in the morning, and was released.

Two nights later late at night I took what I thought the maximum dose of my meds and I did not know what to do. I colleague/friend of mine told me the suicide hotline also deals with mental health. I called and one of the first prompts is if the person calling is LGBTQ or not. That’s the only option they have and proves that they are more at risk for suicide. A person picked up quickly and I started to cry like a baby. I got frustrated that they would not tell me how I should alter my meds, so I hung up, and dialed again. Again, they could not tell me how to alter my meds so I hung up on them again and dialed 911 for an EMT again. They came quicker this time, and I told them to take me to St John’s Episcopal hospital.

I feel like I avoided a major psychotic break, and I’m thankful for that. I’m open to a Christian church were the congregation leans democrat and wants Kamala to win. I can find that in NYC, and I prefer somewhere near Rockaway Beach.