Evelyn's Lesson In Recovery

New Strength

I roll over in my small bed. I feel a tear hit my cheek. I groan quietly and check the alarm clock in the table beside me. It's only midnight! I've been asleep for about three hours!! I look around the room and remember the events of the day. I feel homesick, wanting my bed, wanting to feel safe.....not alienated. I just need my room, I need to be where I feel comfortable, this place is horrible. I walk out of my room and quietly close the door. I walk over to the desk in the middle of the ward. "Delilah?" I ask softly, my voice cracking with emotion. She looks up from a file she was reading. I realize it's mine. "Yes, honey?" she asks, covering the file with her arms. "What's that?" I ask, knowing what it is. "Oh nothing." she lies. My heart beats in my throat, what is Delilah trying to hide from me. I take the file from her and ask "why are you reading this?"
"Evelyn," she begins. "No!! Why didn't you just ask me something if you wanted to understand me?" I cut her off suddenly. Tears sting my eyes, hurt and betrayal exploding in my chest.....for no reason at all. I throw the file on the floor and run into my room. I cry into my pillow, everything inside me telling me how wrong it was to trust Delilah......or anyone else. My door creaks open and I yell "get out!!!" "Evelyn, I'm sorry, but I don't understand why you're so upset, how does reading your file upset you?" Delilah asks.
"I don't want to talk to you!!" I cry. Delilah sighs and sits beside the bed. "Evelyn, just....explain what I did." she says gently. "You said you wanted to get to know me, but then you decided to take a shortcut by reading my file. You just see me as a patient, not a person! That's all anyone has ever seen me as, a patient!! You didn't want to know me, you wanted to know what has happened to me and what's going on with me!!" I cry, feeling insignificant and uncared for. Delilah sighs softly and says "you aren't just a patient, you're a person, but I was just trying to figure out the best way to get to know you by reading your chart, it wasn't a shortcut, it was a tool......it was something that would help me help you the best, okay?"
I look at Delilah and sniffle. Her vanilla perfume tickles my nose. "Really?" I ask. She nods and smiles. "You should have said that." I mumble. Delilah laughs and says "yes, I should have." I smile slightly and look around. "What did you need earlier?" she asks. A wave of homesickness hits me. I begin crying again. "I wanna go home!!" I sob. "I know you do, but it's just the first night. It's going to be an adjustment. Just give it time. Things will get easier and you'll stop being so homesick after a week or so. The first week is always the hardest, but it will get easier....I promise." she says in an even soothing tone.
"I hate it here." I whisper. Delilah laughs to herself and she says, half to herself, "who doesn't?" I giggle, Delilah seems to understand me in a way most professionals don't. "Are you feeling a bit better?" she asks. I nod and lay down, covering myself up. "Okay, I'll see you in the morning, honey. Try not to think too much, you need to sleep." Delilah says, adjusting the blankets. I smile and fall back asleep as she closes the door quietly.
The sun beams through the window, gently awakening me. I sit up and yawn. It's eight o'clock. My alarm clock goes off a second later. I turn it off and sit on the edge of the bed for a few moments. An announcement over the intercom makes me realize how hungry I am. I didn't eat dinner and I didn't eat much lunch, either. I slip my warm slippers on and I go into the hall. I follow the group of people to the cafeteria. I get my tray and I look around for a place to sit. A group of girls motions for me to come sit with them. My heart starts racing. I lick my lips and look around. Every other seat is full, so I have no choice.
"Hey, you're the new girl." someone says as soon as I sit down. I bite my lip and try to keep the tears from coming. I stare at my plate, afraid to eat in front of these people. "What's wrong with you?" someone else asks. I wipe my hands on my pants. The girl that spoke earlier points to my bandaged wrist and asks "did you try to kill yourself?" Fear begins to swirl around me and my breath catches in my chest. "I....umm......I'm going.....going to....." I mumble as I trip over my chair trying to leave. "Go." I add before running out of the cafeteria, a full fledge panic attack hitting me. I go in my room and sit in the corner, hyperventilating.
Tears run down my face as my heart races and my fears become palpable. "Make it stop!" I cry out. I rub my legs and try to think. "Why?" I cry as I feel my world spin out of control. Sweat is running off my forehead and mixing with the tears to form a salty mixture that hits my hands, that are resting on my thighs.
Slowly, my sobbing and hyperventilating turns to shuddering. I rock, trying to calm myself. The attack passes, but the fear remains. I'm completely exhausted, but I can't go back to sleep. A woman I haven't met comes into my room and says "medicine." I groan to myself and follow her to a line of people, waiting for their daily medicine. I'm given anti-anxiety pills and an anti-depressant. No one realizes I was having a panic attack and no one mentions that I ran out of breakfast. I sit by myself in a chair in the 'living room'. No one bothers coming over to me, they're all consumed by their own problems that put them here. I guess that does make sense. I mean, if we weren't all consumed by our problems, we wouldn't be here. Most of the people seem to be teenagers, but there appears to be one or two people that look like they're my age. Maybe I'm not so alone in this.
"Evelyn." Delilah calls from the desk. I walk over to her and ask "what is it?" in an uninterested tone. "It's time for therapy. Your therapist's office is right over there." she says, pointing at a slightly cracked office door. I walk over and realize I'm trembling. Here goes another try at telling a total stranger my problems and hoping they understand. I go in, keeping my head down. "Hi, Evelyn." a kind male voice says. I nod politely. "Please, sit." he says. I sit down on the couch that is nearest to me. "How're you?" he asks. I force a smile.
"Oh, silly me. I'm Frank, your psychiatrist for the time you're in this hospital. I've met with Harper, she's so sweet. I see what's been going on." he says, reaching to shake my hand. I shake my head. "What's wrong?" he asks, looking at his hand. I shrug, if I felt comfortable with him, I might talk, but I don't.....so I won't. "Oh, you have social anxiety disorder. Let's talk about your suicide attempt." he remembers, looking at my bandaged wrist. I shake my head. I haven't really, deeply, discussed that with Harper, I'm not going to tell him anything about that! "Evelyn?" he asks, trying to get my attention. I shake my head.
"Okay, I'm going to raise your anti-anxiety medicine to meet this.....social anxiety thing and I'm going to raise your sleeping medicine. Also, I'm going to try decreasing your anti-depressant and see how that works. I'll see you soon." Frank says, giving up on getting me to talk. I nod and leave, slamming the door behind me. Delilah calls me over to her.
"How'd it go?" she asks. "Horribly." I reply honestly. "Try to trust him like you trust me." she advises. I roll my eyes and reply "that is so easy for you to say, I can't just open up to someone!!" Delilah sighs and says "let me tell you a little secret most of the people here have caught on to. If your psychiatrist thinks you're crazy or you need to be here, the longer you'll be here, but if you stay strong and show you're starting to get better, the sooner you'll be able to go home. Okay?" I nod, having not thought of that, and go to the room I was sitting in before.
I get some paper and colored pencils and I start drawing. I draw random pictures, most turn out pretty good. I smile to myself; I forgot I could draw. Someone announces group therapy, whatever that is. I follow the group of twelve people, including myself, to a room with a bunch of plastic chairs sitting in a circle. A woman stands towards the front of the room. "Okay, we have someone new with us, so how about we all introduce ourselves. Evelyn, you start." she says after everyone sits down. My palms start to sweat, but I know that I need to do this to go home sooner. "Hi everyone, I'm Evelyn." I say, standing up. "Why're you here?" the woman asks. "Umm......like, what put me here?" I ask. She nods. I think of the best words, but I decide to straight forwardly say "suicide attempt." "What led to that?" she asks. "Depression, panic attacks, and social anxiety." I reply, shrugging. "How old are you?" she asks, curiosity taking over. "Eleven." I say, wondering where she's going with this. "Okay, next?" she asks. I sit down and listen to other people introduce themselves.
Then, the woman leading the group introduces herself. "I'm Katie, I'm a licensed practical counselor." she says simply. Some people smile while others roll their eyes. I'm one of the eye rollers, she's already annoying me. "Okay, today we're going to talk about how bad events help shape us. Evelyn, what bad event has happened in your life?" Katie asks, writing bad in a bunch of shapes on a white board. "Umm.......my dad died and my mom immediately got a new boyfriend." I say. "How did that shape you?" she asks. "It started this journey, but hey, every journey begins with one thing. That's life." I say, trying to put a positive spin on my negative event. "Great way to look at!" Katie says before moving on. This woman's perkiness and distant attitude is starting to annoy me. Everyone has shared one bad event in their life and how it shaped them, some of which were horrible, others weren't even bad. I guess everyone is effected on different levels by different things.
"Now, we can either let those things control us, like you all are doing, or we can use them to grow." Katie says, smiling. "You people chose to let bad things control you, while normal people, like myself, chose to be happy and let things shape us." she continues. I really hate this woman right now! And what does she mean by 'you people' and 'normal people'? I'm not normal?!! I always knew I wasn't normal.....she just confirmed it. Some people talk a little more before Katie says "you can go." I leave, trying to ignore her caustic remark. I go to my room for a quick nap before lunch, my anti-anxiety medicine medicine making me always feel sleepy.....and not hungry.
As soon as my head hits my pillow, an announcement calls for lunch. I groan and go to the cafeteria. I luckily sit by myself and eat the disgusting hospital food they're feeding us. I've been so hungry, I ignore the horrid taste until I'm almost done. I finish quickly and put my tray where some other trays are already stacked. I sit down and go back to drawing, trying to keep my mind off the thoughts it's trying to think. I guess distracting myself and ignoring my problems is the only way to stay strong and make the psychiatrist think I can go home.
A few minutes later, I'm given another dose of medicine. The people who work here are hoping these medicines will keep my panic attacks at bay and help me break through my social anxiety. They aren't too concerned about my depression, but they're medicating that too, sort of. I'm told to go back into Frank's office. "Hey." I say to him. "Hi, Evelyn." he says. "What did you need?" I ask. "You have two therapy sessions a day." he says, motions for me to sit down. I sigh as I do.
"I see your medicine is working." he points out. I nod and say "it's helping, I guess." "Well, I'm glad you're talking now, but I want to talk to you about what one of the nurses noticed at lunch. You always either sit alone or you don't eat. Why is that?" he asks. I sigh, I should have known they'd be observing me. "I don't know, I guess it's a bit hard to eat in front of other people, but I'm working on it." I say, forcing a smile. "If you don't start eating with other people, you'll be here longer." he informs me. I clench my fists discreetly. "How long will I be here?" I ask, trying to emotionally distance myself. "About two or three weeks." he says before adding "if you get better and stop isolating yourself." That angers me. "I'm not isolating myself!! I just don't want to make friends in a mental hospital! I'm trying to focus on being able to go home!! I want to go home!! I hate it here because none of you idiots understands me!! Just let me leave, you idiotic bimbo!!!!!" I yell, many emotions coursing through me.
Frank seems taken back. "Do not yell at me. I am an adult, you are a child. You have no reason to be yelling or getting irritated. You're just making things worse for yourself." he says, picking up his phone and dialing something. Two nurses come into the room and guide me out, restraining me. "Let me go!!" I yell, tears running down my face. I catch Delilah's eye and silently plea with her. She looks shocked, but she doesn't do anything. "Help me." I cry as I try to pull away. I'm taken into a padded room where I'm restrained further. "Now, you can either calm down by yourself, in here for a few hours, or we can chemically sedate you." one of the nurses says.
"I'm fine!" I cry as I try to pull out of the restraints. "No, you aren't, you were getting out of control. You can calm yourself down or we can make you calm down, which is it?" she asks. I start crying. "I'm not crazy." I say when I notice how they're looking at me. They nod to each other. One of them grabs me and exposes my thigh. I'm stabbed with a large shot. It burns and I try to pull away.
Then, everything is gone. What did I do to make them think this was necessary?!! I was just trying to express something to Frank and they thought I was losing control enough to put me in a padded room and sedate me. Why doesn't anyone try to understand me?!! I just want to leave, I can't stand being here any longer, it's so hard and nothing I do to get better lasts. I wake up, still in a padded room and in restraints. I rub my eyes and look around. I hate this place and no one cares. Why didn't Delilah help? Why does she not care? She knows I'm not crazy, yet she lets them treat me like I'm crazy!!
The door opens a few minute later and Delilah comes in. "Are you okay?" she asks, acting concerned. "I'm fine." I say sarcastically. "What happened?" she asks. "Frank thought I was losing control when I started screaming at him. He thought I was isolating myself because I didn't want to make friends in a mental hospital. I just want to go home. Those two nurses took me in here and gave me a shot. Why does everyone treat me like I'm crazy?" I explain. Delilah looks surprised. "Honey, just try to forget this happened. If you yell at anyone in here, we have to treat it like you're being violent. That's not right and I don't really follow that rule, but some do, so just try not to get upset." she says, rubbing my arm.
I start crying. "Why're you crying?" she asks. "I just....I wanna go home, I hate it here, no one understands me!!" I cry. "I understand, I know how hard it is to be here." Delilah says comfortingly. She lets me cry until I'm left hiccuping. "You'll get through this. You won't be here forever." she promises. I smile sadly and ask "when can I get out of this room?" "Now, I think." Delilah answers. I smile and she lets me go back to my room. I lay down and fall asleep. I'm woken up by another nurse for dinner. I sit down at a table with a group of girls. I eat quickly and leave, not talking to any of them. I sit down in the recreation room and go back to drawing.
"Medicine!" someone calls. I walk over and am given my usual medicine for anxiety and depression and two different medicines for sleeping. I go back to my drawings and I draw until I'm told to go to my room. As soon as I lay down, the drowsiness leaves. I'm wide awake and I have nothing to do, but think everything over. I hate this so much. Who do people think I belong here? I get that I tried to kill myself, but everyone here acts like the patients are crazy and can't function. Do the people at school know I'm in a mental hospital?! Oh my gosh, I'm going to be outcasted more than I already am.
With that, I fall into a deep, medicated sleep. My thoughts disappear and I don't dream. I just drift hopelessly. Hopefully, these new sleeping medicines make me get through the night without waking up, but I know the chances of that are slim, like they always have been. I hope what I did at dinner was enough to get Frank off my back, but something tells me tomorrow is going to be horrible!