Status: Just starting. It may take a bit but please read it
Snowfall
Thoughtless
I wake up a few moments later, disoriented and confused. The woman in the weird hat is putting me in a chair and the psych techs are trying to radio in a doctor. I blink to clear my vision and try to get up. The woman looks at me sternly and says "Just sit down."
"I'm fine." Is what I can muster, because I am feeling light-headed again. I obey and stay seated until a nurse comes in with a vitals machine and fumbles with a blood pressure cuff clumsily. I pull it out of her fingers and put it on my arm, laying my head on my other hand. "60 over 40" She says, sounding confused. I know that's too low. The nurse informs me so, asking if I've eaten and slept regularly. I shake my head. "You need to rest." Is all she tells me.
So I'm confined to my bed until dinner time. I follow the nurse back to my room where I wait and nap until six, when they call me for dinner. I walk over to the front desk groggily, for once taking my tray and taking it back to my room. I was going to sit in the hall and eat alone but some weird voice in the back of my head tells me to go to one of the two bigger rooms on the unit. One had a tv and both had tables and chairs.
I make my way to the back sitting room and sit at the only circle table that isn't full and suddenly I feel like I'm in high school again. I want to leave my tray here and go back to my room but I won't. I tough it out and force the unsalted vegetables and dry cornbread down my throat. I don't even touch the chicken leg on my plate and even the chocolate pudding was lukewarm and sugar-free. The only saving grace the meal had was the strawberry flavored protein drink; a new addition to my menu.
I stick around my table after dinner and set myself up with some coloring pages and markers. I'm coloring an undersea mandala when Mel plops down next to me. She chooses a page and joins me. After a few mostly quiet minutes, she puts her marker down and looks up at me.
"Can I show you something?" She asks. I look her over for a moment. She has light hair, a tattoo across her chest and eyes that are beyond her age. She isn't much older than I am.
"Sure." I say. "What is it?"
"Some poetry I wrote since I've been here."
I nod and Mel pulls out three folded composition books. She chooses one and flips through it.
"This one first." She says, handing it to me.
I read it. It is long, sad and telling. I start to realize why the girl has an air of experience and pain. But at the same time, I really enjoy reading her poems. She lets me go through a few more. M fingers are itching for my journal the whole time and I almost want to share my own works.
When I'm done, I see that the room has filled up with visitors. None of them are my own. Or Mel's, I notice. Matt joins us soon after and I think how sad it is that we are here alone. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen either of them have friends or family come see them and I know I hadn't had any either.
I can safely say that one of the worst feelings is being in a psych ward and feeling that the whole world has forgotten about you.
"Why are you here?" Matt asks me, seeming to be concentrated on his coloring page. I think a moment, catching his eyes. They are hazel. I log that into my memory.
"Drug addiction. Depression." I say. "You?" I feel rude asking.
"I want ECT." He says. This boggles my mind. He informs me that he had a stroke and is perpetually depressed. Mel is quiet while we talk, only sporadically giving her opinion or story on things. Soon enough the next group is announced. It is NA. Drug group, as the staff call it. Neither of the two at my table move so I decide to follow suit.
"I'm fine." Is what I can muster, because I am feeling light-headed again. I obey and stay seated until a nurse comes in with a vitals machine and fumbles with a blood pressure cuff clumsily. I pull it out of her fingers and put it on my arm, laying my head on my other hand. "60 over 40" She says, sounding confused. I know that's too low. The nurse informs me so, asking if I've eaten and slept regularly. I shake my head. "You need to rest." Is all she tells me.
So I'm confined to my bed until dinner time. I follow the nurse back to my room where I wait and nap until six, when they call me for dinner. I walk over to the front desk groggily, for once taking my tray and taking it back to my room. I was going to sit in the hall and eat alone but some weird voice in the back of my head tells me to go to one of the two bigger rooms on the unit. One had a tv and both had tables and chairs.
I make my way to the back sitting room and sit at the only circle table that isn't full and suddenly I feel like I'm in high school again. I want to leave my tray here and go back to my room but I won't. I tough it out and force the unsalted vegetables and dry cornbread down my throat. I don't even touch the chicken leg on my plate and even the chocolate pudding was lukewarm and sugar-free. The only saving grace the meal had was the strawberry flavored protein drink; a new addition to my menu.
I stick around my table after dinner and set myself up with some coloring pages and markers. I'm coloring an undersea mandala when Mel plops down next to me. She chooses a page and joins me. After a few mostly quiet minutes, she puts her marker down and looks up at me.
"Can I show you something?" She asks. I look her over for a moment. She has light hair, a tattoo across her chest and eyes that are beyond her age. She isn't much older than I am.
"Sure." I say. "What is it?"
"Some poetry I wrote since I've been here."
I nod and Mel pulls out three folded composition books. She chooses one and flips through it.
"This one first." She says, handing it to me.
I read it. It is long, sad and telling. I start to realize why the girl has an air of experience and pain. But at the same time, I really enjoy reading her poems. She lets me go through a few more. M fingers are itching for my journal the whole time and I almost want to share my own works.
When I'm done, I see that the room has filled up with visitors. None of them are my own. Or Mel's, I notice. Matt joins us soon after and I think how sad it is that we are here alone. Come to think of it, I hadn't seen either of them have friends or family come see them and I know I hadn't had any either.
I can safely say that one of the worst feelings is being in a psych ward and feeling that the whole world has forgotten about you.
"Why are you here?" Matt asks me, seeming to be concentrated on his coloring page. I think a moment, catching his eyes. They are hazel. I log that into my memory.
"Drug addiction. Depression." I say. "You?" I feel rude asking.
"I want ECT." He says. This boggles my mind. He informs me that he had a stroke and is perpetually depressed. Mel is quiet while we talk, only sporadically giving her opinion or story on things. Soon enough the next group is announced. It is NA. Drug group, as the staff call it. Neither of the two at my table move so I decide to follow suit.