My Storm

I knew the storm was coming, but I could never have anticipated the floods that it would bring. With each drop of rain, the frown upon my face would grow. The thunder and lightning struck fear into the heart every time it struck and the depressive winds from the east would tear at my house. I always thought I was safe, but don’t we all.

My storm stuck on May 4th, 2013 and lead to the following. It came in a wave of scarred wrists, shed tears, and too many sleeping pills.

I was sent to a “behavioral hospital” on May 5th, 2013, the day of one of my best friends birthdays. My phone was taken, I was able to have one phone call during the day, there was no door leading into my room, and although it felt like prison, I felt safe. Every day, we would be awakened by one of the counselors. They would knock on the door frame where the door should’ve hung and tell us to get up. They would give us any and all pills that had to be taken in the morning. It would be followed by breakfast. All the food tasted the same. They would try to get us to eat healthy and would force us to eat a certain amount based on our weight, height, and gender. Some would eat less, most would eat more. We would then work on “self care” workbooks, which consisted of trying to come up with good things about ourselves and how we could improve. This would usually be followed by a group meeting where we would be divided into small groups and would be given a topic and told to talk about that for a certain amount of time. I guess it was supposed to improve our social skills. Sometimes it would be personal and other times it wouldn’t. We would then be taken back to the cafeteria and given lunch. We would always have a short amount of time to eat so that the adults could come in after and eat as well.

I would always sit with four girls. Marissa, Isabella, Jade, and Kathy quickly became my group of friends. People went in and out so fast that there wasn’t much time to form strong connections. I showed up second, after Isabella and before the other three. The boys and girls were split into two different hallways and the girls side was split into two cliques. I often feared for my friends because the other girls would verbally abuse them. I guess even in a mental hospital, there are still people who try and harm others. One night, I was laying in bed when I heard screaming and yelling. I went out into the hallways and saw Isabella and Marissa fighting three of the other girls. Counselors quickly rushed out and stopped the fight and made Isabelle and Marissa sleep in one of the rooms on the men’s side for the night for safety.

There were 8 rooms in each of the two hallways. One room would hold 2 beds. This added up to 16 total spots for boys and girls separately. In total, there were 11 girls during most of the week and at most only 5 boys. None of the boys cared to start drama. We were all there to just get out. All the other guys were in middle school and being the only one from high school made me very uncomfortable. It was difficult to make friends with the other guys. None had interests that I did and they made me feel left out because I could make friends with the girls and they didn’t know how to.

Between lunch and dinner, we would have free time. This was time to write in our journals, play in the gym, do puzzles, read books, and take a nap. I would shoot hoops in the corner of the gym by myself. One kid, Caleb, came up to me and challenged me to a one on one and it was pretty obvious he didn’t know how to play basketball. After I crossed him over and made a shot, he grabbed the ball and stormed off.

Dinner was usually the same thing. Chicken and potatoes with gravy and green beans. We had a variety of drinks to choose from. You could have Root beer, sprite, apple juice, orange juice, or water. Milk was a luxury that was saved only for breakfast. After dinner we were escorted into the lobby of our hospital wing and we would watch a movie. It would sometimes be an inspiring documentary about someone who overcame a trial or it would be a random Disney movie like Smart House or Sky High.

After the movie, we were allowed to make a single phone call. I would always call my parents and say the same exact things to them. We would then go to our rooms for the rest of the night. Me and my friends would always hug and say goodnight because in the morning, someone might be made “saved” and sent back out into the real world without being able to see anyone else. We would then shower and lay in bed and wait for our counselors to come give us our night time pills and turn off the lights to the room. Our rooms light could only be turned on and off by flashing a card in front of them.

Sunday was the hardest day. It was a day when family could visit. Only about 4 of us had family come. Everyone in my family came but they didn’t allow anyone under the age of 14 to come in so I could only wave to my younger brother and sister from the window. We had 30 minutes with them before we had to say goodbye. This day, we are taken out into a small yard for free time instead of the gym. Me and my friends would play with the chalk. There wasn’t much to do besides that.

On the following Monday morning, we all got up and got dressed. Isabella wasn’t there any more. Her parents came early to get her. Breakfast felt smaller that day. Around 1, my least favorite counselor Dallin come up to me and told me to pack my stuff. My parents would show up in 15 minutes and I couldn’t say goodbye.

I was sent to this hospital to join other kids. All had mental disorders, some tried committing suicide, some tried killing family members or friends, some were caught with doing illegal drugs behind their schools. Whatever the reason we were sent there, we all were just trying to get through our own personal storms. In fact, I’m still looking for a spot where the clouds break. I’ve been soaked all these years in the rains and floods. The continuation of the cyclone has left me battered and bruised. But still I push on.