Evelyn's Lesson In Recovery

Stay to Stay Safe Part Two

Three days later

I wake up to yet another day in this hospital. Elizabeth said I'll probably go to rehab soon, but I doubt I'll stay there long. I'm still really suicidal and depressed and my panic attacks have gotten worse......a lot worse. I just keep them contained to this room and everything is okay. Elizabeth doesn't know that I sneaked a blade in and I've been cutting every day and I don't plan on her finding out because then I'd have to stay longer and I, honestly, just want to go home.

I eat breakfast and go back to my room, feeling a panic attack starting. I can tell this one is going to be a really bad one, so I need to calm down now. By 'calm down' I mean cut. It's the only thing that ends these attacks. As soon as I sit on the floor and pull the shiny blade out of it's hiding place and press it against my thigh, Elizabeth and a nurse come in. They rush to me and force the blade out of my hand. The nurse restrains me as Elizabeth 'disposes of' the blade.

When she returns, the nurse lets me go. By now, the panic attack is getting very strong. I lash out. "I hate you!! Why did you do that?! I can't breathe now!! You guys made it worse!!! Let me cut!!! Give it back please!!!" I scream, trying to physically attack Elizabeth. The nurse restrains me again. I kick her and try to claw at my arms. The nurse looks into Elizabeth's eyes. Elizabeth's eyes show true fear and confusion.

"Let me go!!!!" I scream, still kicking the nurse. "What should we do?" the nurse asks Elizabeth. "Let me go!!!" I demand, sobbing as the panic attack worsens. "Let her go, so I can try to talk to her and calm her down." Elizabeth sighs, taking a step away from me. "I'm not a monster!" I cry, shaking all over. The nurse lets me go and she leaves.

"Evelyn, this is very unlike you. Are you having a crisis?" Elizabeth asks, slowly approaching me, clearly afraid I'm going to lash out. "I don't know!" I scream, scratching my arms. "Are you having a panic attack?" she questions me further. "I-I think so." I whisper, finally allowing myself to break down. Tears run down my face. "Why did you have that blade?" she asks, sitting beside me. "I.......I need it." I answer quietly.

"You think you need it, but you don't. You're okay without it. You just feel like there isn't any other way to get relief, but there is. You really don't need to hurt yourself to feel better; you should have found me or a nurse, like I told you." Elizabeth says, rubbing my hair to try to calm me. "I do need it!!" I scream, standing up as a new wave of panic hits me. "No, sweetie, you don't." Elizabeth says, trying to get me to sit down. I pull away and hit her as hard as I can. "Give it back!!" I demand.

Elizabeth looks surprised and hurt. She quickly gets me on my bed, restraining me gently. "Calm down." she demands calmly. "I can't!!!!" I scream, trying to pull away. She restrains me tighter. "Take a slow, deep breath in through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth." she says, her voice calm. "I can't." I sob, still trying to pull away. Elizabeth doesn't let me go. "You can, just try." she says softly. I try to breathe, but it just gets caught in my throat. "I can't breathe!!!" I sob, anxiety making it impossible to think. Elizabeth finally lets me sit up. I'm crying harder than I've ever cried before.

"Stop crying." she says calmly and firmly. "I can't." I say, hyperventilating. "Do you need medicine to calm down?" she asks. I shake my head, gripping my hair like an anchor. I'm trying so hard to keep myself grounded, so I don't dissociate. It's almost too late though. "Do you feel close to dissociating?" she asks. I nod, holding my hair tighter. "You're okay, name things about the room around you." Elizabeth instructs, her voice soothing. I can't. I can't even see the room I'm in. It's all swirling around me, spinning and making me feel dizzy and sick. I feel a syringe stabbed into my arm.

I cry out in pain, but then I feel calmer and the spinning stops. "Are you okay now?" she asks. "I think so." I say weakly. "That attack used a lot of energy, huh?" she asks. I nod, holding my head. "You're alright......just weak and tired." she says, smiling. I start crying. I feel so guilty for physically attacking her even though she's done nothing wrong. "I'm sorry." I say weakly. I lay down and curl into a ball.

"You didn't do anything wrong. You had an attack and did things you had no control over to try to calm down." she says. "Will I be here longer?" I ask sleepily. "It depends on how much this attack effects you and how much it sets you back in your recovery. I hope it doesn't cause too much of a set back, but it seems like it might." she answers, standing to leave. "Sleep well." she says, turning off my light. I fall asleep and sleep fitfully.

When I wake up, I'm really hungry and anxious. "Not again." I mumble. I really don't feel like having another attack, it would be really bad. I decide to find Elizabeth and tell her I'm anxious. I leave my room and see everyone has gone to eat. I don't know what meal it is, but I'm starving, so this is a good thing. I go to the cafeteria and get in line. I see it's lunch or dinner time. I don't ask which, I'm too afraid to speak. I see Elizabeth standing with another psychiatrist. I can't go up to her unless she's alone.

Eventually the discomfort of another forming attack overwhelms me and I have to tell someone. I go up to Elizabeth and with a trembling voice I say "please help me.......I feel like I'm about to have a really bad panic attack." The other psychiatrist walks away. "Have you eaten?" she asks. I shake my head and say "I'm too anxious." She nods and takes me back to my room. She gives me a few pills and watches me take them. She sits with me for half an hour before asking if I feel any better. I actually do. The medicine seems to have reduced the anxiety from the forming attack. The only problem is it seems to have made my social anxiety a bit worse. I can't speak. I nod.

Elizabeth doesn't question my sudden silence; she just gives me another pill. An hour later, I can speak and I'm anxiety free. "My anxiety seems to be mostly gone." I say with a slight smile. Now the anxiety is gone, the depression decides to come. "Now, I'm depressed." I sigh, feeling defeated. I take another pill and feel my mood lift after another half hour. "I'm okay now." I say, finally feeling free. "Okay, medicine every six hours and you should be fine." she says, finally leaving.

I guess this is all part of getting better. I don't care I've missed out on a normal childhood; I just want things to get back to normal. I've stayed here for so long, I hope I'm finally safe because if I'm not I might be right back here when I'm discharged and sent to the rehab center. I haven't heard from Harper in a while; I bet she's worried about me. I hope I'm doing the right thing to get better, but I sometimes doubt it. It seems like things have gotten worse....a lot worse. The medicine I've been on has been switched constantly and now, the thoughts of committing suicide have gotten a little better, but I have a feeling this won't be the last time I attempt to kill myself and this definitely won't be the last time I'm hospitalized. I just hope this one helps long enough to live normally for a longer period of time. It feels like each time I'm out of the hospital it's just a downward spiral to the next hospitalization. I just hope this time it isn't like this; I really want this to all work out, so I can finally be okay.