The Day the Tree Stopped Blooming

How dissociation, PTSD, and cherry blossoms revealed just how far I'd fallen—and how I began to find my way back.

Apr 10, 2025

∙ Paid

TW: This piece discusses suicide

Sure! Here's a more straightforward version of the image description: **Image Description:** A path lined with weeping cherry blossom trees in full bloom, with bright pink flowers hanging down from the branches. In the center of the image, there is a small stone pavilion with columns. The sky is clear and blue with a few scattered white clouds. The grass along the path is green and well-kept. — Cherry blossoms in Fairmount Park.

By 2 a.m., I was finally admitted to the hospital. I had been strip-searched; my phone, shoes, and the rest of my belongings were locked away. They let me keep my journal, but I had to rip out the string. The nurse who had just strip-searched me asked, “What brought you in today?” In a dissociated state, I simply said, “I was about to kill myself.” They then asked me what my day looked like, and I said, “Well, alarms went off this morning when I couldn’t feel anything as I looked at the cherry blossoms near the Mann Center. I knew then I was done.”

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