According to Dr. Graf, its apparently quite common for people to run when they feel lost. He told me that when people get lost in the woods while camping or hiking, they start to run. It's quite the phenomenon I guess. Well guess where else you see it? In psychotic patients.

Well maybe calling myself psychotic is a little harsh, but that's what I felt like. I don't remember much from that night, but what I do is pretty embarrassing to recount. Eventually, after running from Shane and my mom, they called 911 and I was forced into an ambulance, strapped onto a gurney and taken to the emergency room.

Apparently, I put up quite the fight in the ER, refusing to piss in a cup for them, yelling at my mom for calling 911...I turned into a person I'm sure they didn't recognize, and I doubt I would myself. My fight or flight instinct had kicked in and when flight didn't work out, my fight was amplified.

When I learned that I wouldn't be going home that night, I lost my shit. A social worker came in at about 11pm and recommended that I be admitted to a psych ward. I was terrified and begged her to change her mind, but she wouldn't. She insisted it was for my own good, that she was too worried for me. "You can either go willingly and stay in a private hospital," she said in a negotiating voice, "or you can refuse then we'll have to commit you to a state run hospital which is really miserable...you probably won't get it for a month." Of course, I chose to go willingly.

That night I stayed in a bed at the hospital, they couldn't reach a psych ward with a bed open in time, so I would have to wait until the next morning to be admitted.

The night in the hospital was the most miserable night I had ever had. Shane had gone home to take care of the dogs, and my mom was tired so I told her she didn't have to stay overnight with me. But I was lonelier than I had ever been in my life. I tried to sleep, but my door had to stay open for the nurses and a man across the hall was making a ruckus, so I listened to him yell about having to get out of bed, and the nurses trying to convince him to stay in. This went on until about 4 am when I was finally able to get some sleep. Around 6:30, I was woken up and handed a phone.

"Hi, this is ---- from Valley Hosptal," the voice said, as I tried to gather my groggy thoughts, "we have a bed open for you, are you coming to stay in our facility willingly?"

I wiped fresh tears from my overly swollen eyes, "yes." I said, barely able to speak from my dry throat.

"Wonderful," the voice said, "we'll see you here shortly. We will go over the paperwork and payment for you once you are delivered."