The Hospital

A light touch on my arm wakes me. The paramedics explain that we are at the hospital, and that it is time to get out of the ambulance. They open the large back doors and lower the gurney to the ground. They wheel me inside and stop the gurney next to a large desk. The straps are removed, and I am asked to stand up. I’m brought to a room and told to wait. I’m scared and alone. Finally, someone enters the room and begins asking the same questions that have been repeated to me a million times in the past 24 hours.

Did you mean to do it? Yes.

Were you trying to hurt yourself? Yes.

Do you still want to hurt yourself? Yes.

Do you want to hurt others? No.

The doctor congratulates me. As if I deserve some praise for not being homicidal. I am then led into another room and given light blue pants with a matching gown to wear. I sigh in relief as I realize that unlike the one from the last hospital, this gown actually stays closed. Finally, I am told that it’s time to go up to the teens ward. I follow the nurse and try not to show my fear.

At the door I am met by a woman, who tells me her name is Rachel. She gives me a tour but I can hardly hear a word she says, I’m so lost in my thoughts. A girl approaches me but before she can introduce herself the counselor asks her to give me some space. Hein. The counselor called her Hein. Maybe she’ll be my first friend here. Rachel finishes the tour by showing me to my room. She leaves me there and tells me to make myself at home.

I sit on the empty bed to think. I’m not quite sure how I could be expected to make myself at home. I don’t know anyone. I don’t have my clothes. I don’t have my phone. I don’t have anything. I leave my room as quietly as I can, trying not to wake my sleeping roommate. I go to the front desk and ask to call my mom. They give me a phone and walk away, offering me the little bit of privacy I can have. I talk to her for a few minutes, but once we hangup, I begin to cry. I go back to my room, hoping no one noticed the crying.

I notice that while I was talking to my mom, my clothes were brought to my room. I slowly begin to put them on the shelves, attempting to make it like home. After I finish, I finally get the shower that I’ve been craving. I am finally able to rinse off the puke and charcoal that I’ve been sitting in for days. I hope the shower masks the sound of my crying as I completely break down. After my shower I put on a sweatshirt and leggings before crawling into bed, hoping that when I wake up I’ll be back home where I belong.

In the morning, a counselor comes to get us for breakfast. My roommate stares at me in confusion, probably wondering why there’s a strange person in her room. She introduces herself and then shows me to the cafeteria. Her name is Alicia. She doesn’t seem to want to get to know me, so I sit alone at a table. A boy sitting alone catches my attention. Something about him tells me that we should be friends. We finish eating and then it’s time for everyone to introduce themselves. The boy’s name is Leo.

I head back to my room to wait until the first group therapy happens. We’re being given time to hangout with other patients, but I’m not ready for that yet. I consider getting dressed, but decide against it. There’s no reason to put in all that effort while I’m just in a hospital.

Soon a counselor comes in to let me know that it’s media time. I have a half an hour to use my phone. I text my friends and let them know that I’m okay. I write down their numbers so that I can call them later from the wall phone that I am told can be used whenever. After media time, the first group therapy begins. I sit quietly, barely listening, and just hope that it’ll be over soon. Eventually it is, and I go back to my room once more. I stay there for the remainder of the day, only leaving for groups and meals. And of course, media time.

That night, once most people have gone back to their rooms, I decide to use the phone. There’s only one person I truly want to talk to, my ex of all people. But they’re my best friend and I need some small reminder of home to comfort me. We talk for a while, and I begin to feel like things might turn out okay. I thank them for being such a wonderful friend, and we hang up so that I can go to bed.

For a while everything feels the same. I stay away from people. I lay in bed. I look out the window. I go to groups simply so that I’ll be allowed media time. I call my ex, and sometimes my other friends too. I call my brothers every night, there’s no way I could make it through this place without them. After two, maybe three days, things begin to feel different.

The boy from breakfast, Leo, comes and sits by the window with me. We become friends and suddenly I feel less alone. I start spending more time outside of my room. I meet his friends too. Jaiden. David. Olivia. Ariella. I finally have people to talk to. We play cards and make jokes about how annoying the staff are. We go outside and lay in the grass together. We joke and we laugh and slowly things start to seem less bad. I start getting dressed in the morning, looking good because I feel good. I still call my friends from home, but I’m less dependent on them. I can handle the situation I’m in without them. I’m no longer alone.

One day I meet a girl, Isabelle. She makes me seem mentally stable. There is no doubt from anyone that she’s absolutely insane, but I like her. We get closer and it feels like there’s finally someone who gets exactly how I feel. Our hands brush against each other and my heart skips a beat. Of course, my mom says not to fall for a girl I meet in a mental hospital, so I push the thought aside and continue making friends.

I begin trying to get to know everyone. I don’t want anyone to feel the way I did when I first showed up. I introduce myself to every new patient, and I tell them all that we’re going to be friends. I make an effort to know everyone, and to help everyone feel less alone than I did.

One day I’m told I’m getting a new roommate, Alicia is going home. We’ve grown quite close and I’m sad to see her go. A new girl moves in that night, Mckenna. She seems nice but I’m petty and refuse to like her, as she is replacing my friend. However, my opinion is easily changed, and I decide she is wonderful after she braids my hair for me.

Finally, it’s time for me to return home. A week earlier, that’s all I had wanted. But after nine days in this place, I like it here. I like my friends who understand what I’m going through. I like the counselors who are always there if I need to talk. I like the routine that helps keep balance in my life. I like the view out my favorite window that helps me calm down. I like the courtyard where I can sit with my friends and relax. I like everything, even the things I shouldn’t. I even like the food, disgusting as it is. The food that makes me miss school lunches, something no one should ever miss. I like the food because it gives us something to make fun of and to joke about. Every horrible thing can be made better if you’re with people you love. And now it’s time to go home. I love my family and I’m excited to see them, but I don’t know how I’m going to survive without my new friends.

I pack my bags and bring them to the front desk. Three counselors help me carry my things, and I of course, carry nothing. Everyone has grown to love me, and they’re happy to help me. I’ve never had that before and I’m sad to be leaving it. I’m going to miss this place, but I’m taking reminders with me. The paper diamond from Brandon. The butterfly from Isabelle. The shampoo that I didn’t need but Alicia insisted I should keep. And, of course, the cards. The deck of cards that I stole from the nurses. The deck of cards that all of my friends signed. The deck of cards that will forever be a reminder of the people that helped give me a reason to stay alive.