I know that the male nurse thought I did not need to be there that night. As I sat on the chair waiting for my name to be called, he stared at me from inside the office. Among other drug users and many screaming voices, he came and asked if I would like something to eat. Politely, I refused. Perhaps, we were both surprised at how I came for suicidal treatment and yet, I still had mannerisms; “please, thank you, and sorry” were easily slipping from my mouth. I did not have to consciously make an effort to do such things like the other users around me- they were unable to open their eyes that night. The nurse took me away so I would not be slapped by one of them, as they were getting physical. The security guard moved her chair close to me and told me about her younger children and 12-hour shift at the hospital. As the male nurse left, he said he will see me tomorrow morning. He had confidence I would be here tomorrow- I would definitely survive.
Nurse: Where are you from?
M: Here.
Nurse: No, I mean where are your parents from? You seem to be from elsewhere.
M: Just from India.. but I am from here.
Nurse: Hmm.. See you tomorrow.
As I sat there, I realized people are living life everyday repetitively, in routine. Many times, people will sit on a chair during a 12-hour shift and have nothing to do but spend time with their own self. They will not intake any substance or use a distraction to make this time go by; they are comfortable with their presence. Three hours alone will go by because they will be smiling to themselves about memories in their life and about how blessed they are. What on Earth was I lacking? What was preventing myself from feeling this way? Why was I here tonight and not on the opposite end? I was not the person today I was training to be or I would have taken another young girl away from the drug abusers; this little girl would not have been me.
This was everything I had done to myself. I was raised with traditional family morals and high spirituality. Religion was a fundamental base I was brought up with; my beliefs were similar to my family members. However, I allowed society’s distractions to interfere with my personal identity; I reached a point of frustration and confusion. At this point, I did not have my familial backbone with me but I especially, did not have my self-connection.
The next morning, a movement began. As I woke up, I recalled every situation I witnessed in the past. Many single mothers, abused women, helpless children, hungry homeless, mentally ill, and old age folks had held my hand. I had so much energy inside from others who still walked in their life, despite being on the street. These people had given me their blessings for years; I was inches away from having a helping certification and passing on their life lessons.
The Movement
We are human beings- all of us. In fact, we are all going through the same pain. Many of us seek for each other, and we will find each other as well. Do not give up this momentum; what you learn, pass it on. One day, you will have confidence of looking into a teary eye and helping them wipe their pain away, telling them:
“You are not alone. This is the human species. We are full of emotions. Feel this sensation in every vein, and I will stand here in case you fall. Facing your feeling will be difficult, but we are all facing our own. You are not alone, my friend. I am supporting your movement.”