The night before I went into the psych hospital, I had police at my door. They wanted to know if everything was alright. They seemed to think I was okay, to look at me. I was calm. Collected. If they only knew! If they only knew where my mind had been that day- where it would be the next day! They asked to talk to another family member to make sure I'd be okay through the night. That was that. I think I skated by that one.
I hadn't called the police. It was an online friend that I've never met several states away! He didn't like how I was behaving, I guess, that day. He asked me weird questions like, "What's your middle name?" and "What's your phone number?" I was mad when I found out why he wanted to know! I thought he was being friendly and was going to phone me! (He reads this blog, so, "Hi!") I was mad at him for a few hours. Who needs police at their door? I certainly didn't think I did! I mean, I was fine! I was manic. Ha!
Anyway, that was "the night before". Nothing really major happened. They just talked with me for five minutes and then left. I'd just forgotten to blog about it what in scramble the next day going to the ER then being admitted.
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