DharmaGirl
VIP Member
I went out to talk to my brother since I hadn't seen him in 24 hours, and he lives with me. His bedroom is in what used to be a shop, but we finished into a room. He had hung himself from the exposed rafter. I couldn't stop screaming. The screaming took over my body. I am so sorry. Just so sorry. We both had a horrific childhood, and he just didn't make it.
He was seeing a psychiatric nurse practitioner, and even though he made an attempt in May, and one last December, she decided he was moderately depressed and was in no danger of hurting himself. The attempt in May was an overdose of my pain meds that should have killed a horse, but I found him in time. He went to the hospital, and when his heart was normal again, 4 hours later, they discharged him. I argued with the social worker, but she told me he said he was fine. He was full of morphine! He told her that he would say anything to go home and she still discharged him. I am angry that with all the help he was seeking, nobody took him seriously. Now he's dead.
He was seeing a psychiatric nurse practitioner, and even though he made an attempt in May, and one last December, she decided he was moderately depressed and was in no danger of hurting himself. The attempt in May was an overdose of my pain meds that should have killed a horse, but I found him in time. He went to the hospital, and when his heart was normal again, 4 hours later, they discharged him. I argued with the social worker, but she told me he said he was fine. He was full of morphine! He told her that he would say anything to go home and she still discharged him. I am angry that with all the help he was seeking, nobody took him seriously. Now he's dead.
