Status: Okay, so it's kind of a true story. Everything in here happened, but I changed the names for privacy reasons.
Confessions of a Clinically Depressed Teenager
On my own I'll do just fine.
They checked my vitals and got us into an exam room. My mother told me to hand over my phone. I gave it to her, and covered up my smirk when she couldn’t find anything. I thanked God for my conscience. She charged my phone and then we waited. We waited for a doctor from the psychiatric department to tell us the plan. Eventually, someone came.
The doctor said that it’s best if I did an inpatient program and for now I’d spend the night here. There were no beds available, so I had to sleep on the uncomfortable exam room bed. Before my mother left, she gave me my phone. We didn’t say goodbye to each other.
I checked my phone, first going onto Facebook. My heart practically leaped out of my chest when I saw Ethan saw what I had sent him. I typed back a hasty reply and then made a status to tell my classmates where I was. The whole night was spent texting and messaging until my phone battery died. My mother didn’t bring me my charger, so I had to wait until the next day.
What made my stay uncomfortable was that I had a sitter. They had me on suicide watch, much to my dismay- hell, they even had to escort me to the bathroom.
Sleep didn’t come to me that night. The exam room bed felt like a slab of stone. It didn’t help that the sitter had the door wide open, so the light from corridors of the hospital came flooding in. That’s how I ended up running on two hours of sleep during Friday.
Friday was busy down in the ED. Patients came flooding in before the oncoming snow storm. Cambridge Public Schools were closed that day. I didn’t think it would snow- until I watched the news and observed the pile up of snow on the streets and sidewalks. A traffic ban was issued. MBTA services were shut down.
When I woke up, I found that my glasses were broken. I cussed under my breath and asked for tape. Way to go, Celia... I thought.
My mother came back before it snowed too hard and brought me clothes. I thanked her by nodding. She scolded me for breaking my glasses and I was tempted to ask her to leave. I held my tongue. Then, she left and I spent the rest of my day eating and trying to occupy myself. My mother brought my charger so I was quite invested in my phone. I talked to Yana over Gmail, and Ethan called me that day, which made it easier to be in the ED.
They still hadn’t found a psychiatric hospital, so I slept on the exam room bed again on Friday night. I didn’t sleep, but it was less noisier than Thursday night. Some doctors had to sleep in the hospital because of the snow.
I was relieved on Saturday afternoon when I moved to the post surgery unit (aka the 10th floor). I slept on a real bed practically- it felt like a Tempur Pedic compared to the exam room bed.
I was in 10 Northwest, Room 9A. I shared the room with a girl named Regina.
Regina wasn’t eating. She just slept a lot.
I took a shower that day and came out, looking at myself in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes had dark circles. I looked wrecked. I didn’t look like myself. Around this time in 2011, I wasn’t like... this. I was happy, I was unstoppable. Motivated. What could’ve happened in the course of two years that lead to this? I then realized my hair only had shampoo in it and it was impossible to brush out. My eyes looked at the bottle of conditioner that belonged to Regina. She wouldn’t know right? So I used it. I shook my head, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and went back to my bed.
But, they wanted a urine sample. I frowned at this. Whatever dignity I had left disappeared into thin air. Unbelievable.
That night I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow. Well, not exactly. I spent most of the night messaging Ethan on Facebook. Regina looked over at me and mumbled, “Who’re you texting?”
“A friend.” I reply quickly, hunched over my phone as if nothing else mattered.
“Boyfriend, I’m guessing?” Regina smirked.
I felt a blush creep over my cheeks. “Yeah...” I trailed off.
Sunday was dull. I ordered breakfast, watched TV, checked my phone. Ordered lunch, watched TV, checked my phone. Ordered dinner, watched TV, checked my phone. This time, I ended up messaging Ethan until 3am. I held my phone to my chest and sighed. I really missed him. I missed my friends. Hell, I even missed school.
I guess you don’t know what you got until it’s gone.
The doctor said that it’s best if I did an inpatient program and for now I’d spend the night here. There were no beds available, so I had to sleep on the uncomfortable exam room bed. Before my mother left, she gave me my phone. We didn’t say goodbye to each other.
I checked my phone, first going onto Facebook. My heart practically leaped out of my chest when I saw Ethan saw what I had sent him. I typed back a hasty reply and then made a status to tell my classmates where I was. The whole night was spent texting and messaging until my phone battery died. My mother didn’t bring me my charger, so I had to wait until the next day.
What made my stay uncomfortable was that I had a sitter. They had me on suicide watch, much to my dismay- hell, they even had to escort me to the bathroom.
Sleep didn’t come to me that night. The exam room bed felt like a slab of stone. It didn’t help that the sitter had the door wide open, so the light from corridors of the hospital came flooding in. That’s how I ended up running on two hours of sleep during Friday.
Friday was busy down in the ED. Patients came flooding in before the oncoming snow storm. Cambridge Public Schools were closed that day. I didn’t think it would snow- until I watched the news and observed the pile up of snow on the streets and sidewalks. A traffic ban was issued. MBTA services were shut down.
When I woke up, I found that my glasses were broken. I cussed under my breath and asked for tape. Way to go, Celia... I thought.
My mother came back before it snowed too hard and brought me clothes. I thanked her by nodding. She scolded me for breaking my glasses and I was tempted to ask her to leave. I held my tongue. Then, she left and I spent the rest of my day eating and trying to occupy myself. My mother brought my charger so I was quite invested in my phone. I talked to Yana over Gmail, and Ethan called me that day, which made it easier to be in the ED.
They still hadn’t found a psychiatric hospital, so I slept on the exam room bed again on Friday night. I didn’t sleep, but it was less noisier than Thursday night. Some doctors had to sleep in the hospital because of the snow.
I was relieved on Saturday afternoon when I moved to the post surgery unit (aka the 10th floor). I slept on a real bed practically- it felt like a Tempur Pedic compared to the exam room bed.
I was in 10 Northwest, Room 9A. I shared the room with a girl named Regina.
Regina wasn’t eating. She just slept a lot.
I took a shower that day and came out, looking at myself in the mirror. My face was pale, my eyes had dark circles. I looked wrecked. I didn’t look like myself. Around this time in 2011, I wasn’t like... this. I was happy, I was unstoppable. Motivated. What could’ve happened in the course of two years that lead to this? I then realized my hair only had shampoo in it and it was impossible to brush out. My eyes looked at the bottle of conditioner that belonged to Regina. She wouldn’t know right? So I used it. I shook my head, threw on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, and went back to my bed.
But, they wanted a urine sample. I frowned at this. Whatever dignity I had left disappeared into thin air. Unbelievable.
That night I fell asleep as soon as my face hit the pillow. Well, not exactly. I spent most of the night messaging Ethan on Facebook. Regina looked over at me and mumbled, “Who’re you texting?”
“A friend.” I reply quickly, hunched over my phone as if nothing else mattered.
“Boyfriend, I’m guessing?” Regina smirked.
I felt a blush creep over my cheeks. “Yeah...” I trailed off.
Sunday was dull. I ordered breakfast, watched TV, checked my phone. Ordered lunch, watched TV, checked my phone. Ordered dinner, watched TV, checked my phone. This time, I ended up messaging Ethan until 3am. I held my phone to my chest and sighed. I really missed him. I missed my friends. Hell, I even missed school.
I guess you don’t know what you got until it’s gone.