.38 (Adult Content)

Dear Elle,

    It must have been quite a shock. You know. 2020. You see, Prichards had been getting desperate with the meds. He took the prazosin up high... I don't remember how many MG. 

    I remember in October I got depressed. He said that the prazosin was probably causing that. Leaves was worried. My judgement was off. Then they had that meeting. Leaves, a supervisor, and my old LPC. They decided they needed more help. A co-counselor. But I was very unstable, lines were blurred. She said she was going to have to terminate. 

    I bought the .38. It felt weird, to have a gun. I never even loaded it. I was afraid. The minipress had dropped. It was like being in combat all of a sudden. adrenaline surge. I ran through every scenario I could think of. My previous LPC was not able to help. Clarity had disagreed with Bipolar and asserted PTSD. The meds weren't working. Doors were closing. I was at the end of the rope. 

    The last therapy session approached, and I reviewed my options. In my mind, I sketched out the details. Just like MIP, I knew the building. I did not know what to do. They had given me names. I did not feel trusting. I went through scenarios. day after day. I saw myself going to that last session, bringing the gun. I saw myself pulling it out. barricading. talking.... talking... talking. I could hear the sirens in my mind. I planned last words. I decided I didn't care what they did with my stuff. I prepared to die. 

    The day came. As I recall, I still had the gun. But I had gone through the scenarios, there was just one problem. I had pictured the last moments. I had pictured pulling the trigger. I had pictured the look on her face as I shot myself. I pictured myself on the ground with her there. And I said to myself, I can't do this to her. I pictured the look on her face. I pictured her screaming. I said I can't. I left the gun at home. I remember the session. I was pacing. She was crying. She gave me the note. All my best. Asked if she needed to call the ambulance. But I felt a calm. And I said no. I went home. I sold the gun. I came back to you. 

    I still don't know where MIP was going with whatever they were trying to do. I got what I needed in 2020 and 2024, I think. The rest I forget. 

    I hope someday I'll see you one more time. I want you to see that I'm ok. I'm still here. That's all. I think this experience changed my mind. I don't think it will be the same ever again. But I'll be alive. Because I'm getting the right help. So long as MIP doesn't creative and try to remove every person that I trust from my life. If they had known about the FDIA, they would have known which ones to not trust. 

Ashes