This old memory popped into my head last night, something I've never told people, but for some reason feel compelled to share:

I briefly intersected with a girl who had swallowed a whole bottle full of perscription tranquilizers.

When I first saw her, she still had a ring of charcoal stains around her mouth from being forced to consume a whole bag or whatever, of stuff to absorb the pills, before they pumped her stomach.

I'd see her at meals briefly, kinda staying away from other patients. which is understandable, since there were some very crazy people mixed in with people just under observation.

But what I remember most, is during visiting hours, when her family came in and asked, "How could she do this?" The proceeded to nearly berate her for what she had done to them.

What bastards. No one gets to the point where they're seriously taking attempting to take their own lives without some issues for sure, but the worst way of getting them to get help is to attack them the day afterwards.

Ultimately, I think people can only change themselves, and only when they are ready for it. Being a fuckwad to them about something as serious and painful is not the way to encourage that change, even if that's the way you really felt.

They obviously have some deep pains in their hearts to do that, and it just seems belittling and mean to act that way.

I talked to her afterwards, and I said, "They were pretty rough to you."

She nodded.

I said, "This is a pretty scary place, huh?"

She said, "Yes."

I didn't really have a follow-up. I'm certainly no therapist, and no words to console would really not sound stupid. We just sat there a while until hours were over.

I don't know whatever happened to that girl, but I hope she turned out OK.