AFter reading all of this, I had to post my experience. A few years ago, I presented to my T and told him I needed help. Taht I was cycling down really fast and I couldnt' control it anymore, and that if he didn't find a place for me I'd be dead by morning. Straightforward, right?

Wrong. He came and picked me up, and took me to the facility that cares for professionals in a suicidaly state. Well guess what? They wouldn't take me. They dumb effers told me I was too young to be so miserable, gave me a Valium (which incidentally had me climbing the walls all night long) and sent me home. It was only through the consistant, HOURLY checking in with T that I was able to get through the next several days.

What a load of crap. I detest MHU's.