A Tiny Little Dot

TWO YEARS BEFORE THE EVENT
When we arrive at the Van Andel Center at Pine Rest, Nate unloads the stretcher I'm strapped to off the ambulance. They roll me into the building and unhook the straps. I jump down. I'm still woozy from the overdose and I lean up against the stretcher. I wait as a woman comes up to me.

"Virgina Sullivan?" She asks, looking at her clipboard.

"That's me," I answer quietly.

"Alright. Welcome." She writes something down. She then looks me up and down. "Ugh! They're not supposed to let you wear pants! They never follow that rule!" She exclaims in frustration. "Alright, follow me," she grumbles.

I leave Nate's side and follow the woman down the hallway. We pass statues and paintings of flowery fields. The building is surprisingly stylish. The whole walk I'm thinking about the comment the lady made. No pants? She actually was expecting me to walk through here with just a hospital gown on? That is just ridiculous.

When we reach the child and adolescent unit, I admire the wall. It's a painting of a beautiful field of flowers with a bright blue sky. It reminds me of something Vincent van Gogh would have painted. My eyes slowly move along the flowers. Some look messy. The patients must have painted this.

"Hello, Kenny," the woman says to the man in the window.

"Hello," he answers.

"This is Virginia," she says, gesturing toward me.

"Hello, Virginia," Kenny says in a soft, comforting voice. "Your guardian already brought your clothes and everything. It's all in your room." He gives me a small smile.

I reluctantly return the smile. "Thank you," I whisper. I did not expect a receptionist at a mental hospital to be so kind.

"Well, this is where I leave you," the lady says. "Good luck." She then promptly walks away.

Kenny buzzes me in and a tall, African-American woman meets me on the other side of the door. "Hello," she says in a thin African accent. "I'm Nurse Karen. I'm going to need to get your vitals really quick."

"Okay," I say. I then follow her over to the nurse's station. With every step I feel the drugs still in my system. I have not passed them yet. I feel almost like I'm floating.

Karen takes my blood pressure and checks my pulse. She documents the results. She then weighs me. I dare not look. I do not want to know the number. I try not to worry myself about these things. I have enough drama in my life. I'm fine just the way I am... physically.

When Karen finishes, she leads me to my room. All the other patients' eyes are glued to me as I pass them. There are so many. Probably a total of around 30. But many of them are partials. My anxiety level slowly creeps up to a level beyond my comfort zone.

"I'm going to need to search your body and clothes," Karen says when we enter my room. "Go in the bathroom. You can keep your gown on."

I do as I'm told. I slide my pajama pants off. I lift up my gown so Karen can see my entire thigh. She then checks my arms and my chest. I turn around and she searches the rest of my body. I'm too doped up to even care. I just want to get out of this gown and into some comfortable clothes.

"You can go ahead and take a shower and set your room up if you want," Karen says, standing up. She then leaves me alone in my room.

I turn and look into the mirror. I look like a complete mess. Even with my hair back in a ponytail, strands are sticking in all different directions. My face is pale and splotchy. My eyes are dark and sunken in. I can't believe Nate and all those people saw me like this. I suddenly grow very insecure.

I turn to check out my room. The walls are a calming light green. I have a twin bed with a flat pillow and some blankets. I push down on the mattress. No springs. No springs means no cutting. I also have a closet with no door and no hangers. I walk toward my desk. There are a few drawers. I try pulling them open. Locked. I sigh and sit down in my chair.

There is a knock on the door. A tall, skinny man with a shaved head appears. "Are you okay, Virginia?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," I answer. That's right. Checks every ten minutes--including at night.

"Okay, well it's almost time for group therapy." He closes the door and disappears.

I walk to my bed and grab a pair of black pajama pants with skulls and cross bones on them. The string ties have been cut out of them. I then put on a Nine Inch Nails shirt. This is my safe outfit. It's the outfit I wear when I'm feeling depressed or scared. It protects me. I then fix my hair and wash my face. I'm not allowed to keep make-up in my room. I just decide to go natural. I exit my room and join the group.

*+*

Let me take you through the day in the life of a patient at the Van Andel Center at Pine Rest:

7 am: Your psychiatrist will visit you. They ask how your mood is and see if any changes need to be done to your medication(s).

8 am: Vitals. You get your blood pressure, weight, temperature and pulse.

8:30 am: Breakfast. The counselors and staff monitor how much you eat. The food is disgusting so most people don't eat much. They then think you're starving yourself. Typical.

9 am: Activity therapy. Why they have activity therapy first time in the morning is beyond me. You do random crap during this. Like board games and worksheets.

10 am: Goals. Every day you get into groups of three with one staff member and fill out this worksheet. You have to set a legit goal every day. The staff member then signs off on it.

11 am: A quick class. It usually is just a brief explanation of stuff. It really is a useless waste of time.

11:30 am: Free time. It's not technically free time because we have to stay in our rooms and there is no talking. If we're lucky enough, we can go outside.

12:30 pm: Lunch. The same rules as breakfast.

1 pm: Group therapy. My favorite. We break into three groups based on why we're there and we go in separate rooms. It's mostly just talking. We tell our stories and give support to each other.

2 pm: More activity therapy. I hate activity therapy because you actually have work and think. Most of the information is stuff I already know.

3 pm: Free time. You can make phone calls during this time. If you're not making a phone call, you're in your room.

4 pm: Another quick class. This one is usually about diet or exercise.

5:30 pm: Dinner.

6 pm: Visting time. Patients with visitors have to leave the unit and go into these rooms to visit family members or anyone that has been approved to be there.

8 pm: Another class. This one is usually a video. For example, we watched a hygiene video from the 1940s.

9 pm: This is actual free time. We usually watch a movie. Only kid movies allowed. We can color and journal. We can also eat any food our family members have brought us. During this time, the staff members talk to us one on one to see how we're doing.

10 pm: Lights out. We sleep and then wake for another repeat of the day before.
They have pretty strict rules. A lot of them are really dumb. No sharing food. No talking about boyfriends/girlfriends. No touching. No whispering. No swearing. No inappropriate conversation topics. Girls and guys are not allowed to eat together. No talking back to the staff members. If you break any of these rules, you can be put on peer boundaries. That's when you're not allowed to talk to anyone and you have to sit apart from everyone else.

*+*

Today is my fifth day. Up until now, I have gone to all my classes and I have followed all the rules. I have never been told to stop doing anything. I have not really made any friends. There is no one here I really like. But then again, I do not like anyone to begin with.

There has been a lot of commotion. There are a lot of ticking time bombs here. One girl is seventeen and she found out she is pregnant. They test everyone's urine for drugs and the girls for pregnancy. She gets angry very easily and becomes violent. Another girl has no self control and goes off on anyone for the stupidest reasons. These two are best friends. Big surprise.

There is another thing that is causing my anxiety to go all over the place. There is a boy here by the name of Cody. He is obsessed with me. He is always talking to me and always wants to sit next to me. One time when we were coloring, supposedly I had something on my face and he tried to take it off. NO TOUCHING ALLOWED!

I look up from my book and I sigh. I rest my head in my hand and think about how much I want to get out of this place. My psychiatrist said I'm leaving tomorrow. I really thought I would be out of here sooner. I think he believes I was trying to kill myself. I was not. I was just stressed out about school.

My eyes flicker to the window. I see the children playing out in the fenced in area. I watch as a few little boys play soccer with one of the male staff members. A female staff member picks clovers and flowers with some of the girls. It breaks my heart that these kids are here. The youngest looks about five. I relate to those kids. I was never really stable or normal. Even at a young age, I was angry and depressed. I actually tried killing myself when I was in fifth grade.

I wish I could say I missed the days of innocence but I never really had them. Being put into foster care because my mother was so unstable from my father leaving. I do not miss him at all. I know he was a failure even worse than my mom. I do not need more of that in my life.