I have chosen to not put my name on this. I want to share my experiences and I want to share the pain I may have felt but I don’t want people to really know who I am and the things I may have done.

At the beginning of this semester, one of the counselors here at St. Lawrence said that friends of students with suicidal ideations will thank them for reaching out to the school for help and having them admitted to places where they may receive “help.” I couldn’t help but laugh at that assertion because I, the friend who had suicidal ideation, was not thankful for the “help” I received.

I sought out the counseling center myself during a time in which I felt that I couldn’t be here anymore, and I didn’t see another way out. At first, I felt safe. I felt like there were actual resources here that were meant to protect me and show me kindness that I couldn’t show myself. But then it all changed. I was taken to a place for my own safety, which sounds good and all. However, I shit you not, it was the worst experience of my life.

Trigger warning: if I didn’t want to kill myself before, that place definitely made me want to do it ten times over. Disclaimer: I am doing much better, and it’s not because of SLU. What made it worse was that my treatment coordinator and psychiatrist were A-Okay with letting me out. However, I was told that “my counselors at school strongly advised against that because ‘there wouldn’t be any resources here for me over the weekend.’ *And the crowd goes ARE YOU DEADASS?”*

To you, I say yes, yes, I am indeed deadass. The place that talks about there being community assistants around all the time, residence coordinators on call, security patrolling all night, a counselor on call who will come to campus if need be, advocates, etc. would not be able to keep me safe over the weekend. They needed me to be kept there until I could see a SLU counselor on Monday morning. I did see a counselor when I came back. He asked me how the food was. How fun.

I sat in that office at that horrible place, feeling lost and betrayed almost, because in the next breath, I was told that if I were to be let out early, I wouldn’t be allowed to return to campus.

This is my home.

I cannot go to my actual home.

I don’t have people who can come get me.

But I was told that I wouldn’t be able to come back here. I get it though; I understand that this is a business. I get that my despair in those moments would create bad publicity, but I thought that mental health mattered more. I thought that as a person I mattered more…*sighs in SLU not valuing students of color and our experiences here.*

I don’t know why I’m writing this. I guess I am still angry—furious at the fact that many of our micro-institutions, including the counseling center, are so inherently flawed. I guess what I am trying to say is, do better fam. We need you to do better. If you think that literally finding ways to push students out who need help, who are asking for help, is you doing better, then wow.

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