A Distant Memory

**Editor's Note** This article was previously posted on Medium. You can read the original blog here: https://medium.com/@klarakabelik/a-distant-memory-e7500de4d1dc

**Trigger Warning** This article talks about Mental Health, Gambling, Drugs & Alcohol, Self-Harm, and Suicidal Ideation**

In today’s article, I want to touch on something personal to me… A memory so to speak.

In September of 2024, I was really struggling with my mental health. I sublimated sex for self-harm, drank to numb the pain, but the sublimation wasn’t enough, and it just ended up being a combination of all three.

In October, when I came back from a holiday, I was jet-lagged and spiraling. 3 weeks of hypomania had turned into a deep depression. Trying to substitute something for the scars on my upper left shoulder, I turned to gambling instead. Simultaneously, I vaped nicotine trying to distract myself from the thoughts in my head.

Except the original wins turned into losses, and so came the shame and the guilt that stacked on top of the already dreadful mindset I was in. While the financial loss burned a hole in my pocket, the blade found its way to my shoulder once again.

On November 5th, 2024, I found myself in a dark place, when the depression fell to levels it had never been before. I found myself apologizing to my cat, Mici, for the things I was contemplating and wanting to do.

But instead of giving into the darkness, I tried to fight it one last time. I called my parents to let them know, as I called an uber to take me to the nearest hospital, and enrolled myself in a voluntary, overnight hold.

Upon entering this blank canvas, the hospital staff collected all my personal belongings. No phones were permitted nor access to any of my items unless asked. There was no clock on the wall either, so one couldn’t tell time.

I originally sat in the waiting room of the ward, until they gave me my personal room to spend the night. I felt myself stirring. I was also disassociating a bit, as the world around me didn’t feel real. I just wanted someone to help me, so that this cycle of bipolar and severe depression wouldn't be what I felt for the rest of my life.

Fast forward a couple of hours later, I awoke to the sound of a girl screaming and yelling through her tears. She was cursing at the night time staff, complaining that she pissed herself upon entry, and other foul things I shall not mention.

And unfortunately for me, she was placed in the room next to mine.

I found myself needing to use the washroom as well, during this unfortunate moment in time. So, through all the yelling from the other room, I made my way to my door to ask if I could go. The staff were all on high-alert, given this patient, and another one - a man, who had been wandering the hall.

I went into the bathroom (that wouldn't lock by the way), and took a chance on hoping that I could use it in peace, without any rude interruptions.

Several hours passed, with a few phone calls to my parents in-between, using the phone at the nursing station, and it was eventually morning. I guess it's true what they say about hospital food, as I was brought the blandest breakfast I had ever seen. A plain and cold, whole wheat bagel, with barely enough jam to cover one half of it, and a cup of applesauce, along with a small apple juice as the beverage.

I ate what I could, leaving the rest, and then I waited for another hour or two, when I was finally seen by the emergency psychiatrist who was on-call. Thankfully, after all that waiting, he was at least kind, and was able to provide me with some insightful information. He then put me on a temporary medication for the day, which was meant to slightly relieve some of my depressive symptoms.

And an emergency follow-up appointment was scheduled with my personal psychiatrist for the next day.

So, I made my way out of the psychiatric unit in the emergency department, and waited for my parents who thankfully were able to drive me to the pharmacy, and take me home…

Needless to say, this memory highlights a horrible part of my life. I wanted to share it though, to reflect on the things I overcame, and where I’m at now.

In 2025 I experienced other lows, but I’ve made it to the end of December in higher spirits, preparing myself for better experiences in the New Year to come.

So, if you’re also in a dark space mentally, and feel like no one understands what you’re going through, I want you to know that you’re not alone.

As Albus Dumbledore once said, “Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

This life is your Hogwarts, and there will always be help available to you. All you’ve got to do is ask.

Sending you much love and healing energy.

Your Bipolar Bestie,

KlaraK.