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The most expensive phone call I ever made was to a crisis line. When they asked if I had a plan, I said “yes” because I thought “a plan” meant “a way to do the act, should I ever decide to do so,” and not “actually going through with it right now.” So they put me in police custody and drove me many miles away, wouldn’t accept my explanation. I lived in a tiny town at the time, so it was a loooong ride in an ambulance.

While they were admitting me, I had to pee so bad, but I have bashful bladder, and the police had to be watching me at all times. So I just had to hold it until I was able to use the toilet in the room, which was still hard to use, but at least there were no cameras directly pointed at the toilet (that I know of).

I was in for a couple of days, and I’d say the actual patients in the psych ward were some of the most level-headed people I had encountered so far during this whole experience, in spite of their various mental illnesses.

After a couple nights and like 20 minutes with a psychiatrist, my insurance wanted me out, so out I went. I was in an entirely different city with no way home to my little town. I figured out a way home, but it would involve nearly doxxing myself to reveal that part of the experience. Let’s just say I was in a worse place going out than I had been when I went in.

And then they slapped me with an $8000 bill, which got added on to my piles of debt.

I’ve never called one of those numbers again, although I suspect I just happened to get a bad attendant on the line, because I’d called it before without problem. I have a list of people to call when I’m in crisis. I don’t really talk about the crisis when I call, but it does help me personally to hear someone’s voice and help me redirect my thoughts. One of these people is the discord server owner who I used to mod for, because my life is just that pathetic.