Where do I begin...

10/13/10
I'm here. In an inpatient facility and I'm scared to death. The people scare me. The nurses treat you like you have a flesh eating disease. And I'm lonely. And I miss my best friend Brandon and I miss my mom and my sisters and Aubrie and my dad and Heather and my doggies.  I've only been here for a few hours and I want to go home.

What brought me here? Months; no years of practice. Practicing pretending to hold it all together. I don't ever stop and think about how I feel. I skate through life, barely surviving. I want to feel. But as soon as I start to feel again, I LOSE IT. It's too much. I have no balance in my life. Too much; too little. I need to start taking control of myself, my body, my surroundings. I am a shattered soul, and I want to piece myself back together.

When I first got here I felt scared, vulnerable, sad, regretful. Every one of the patients stared at me like I was fresh meat. I suddenly had this panicking thought of "what if someone tries to rape me? or beat me up?" I feel insecure and un-secured. There's no locks on any doors. There's no mirrors in the bathrooms. The bedrooms are huge but amazingly under-furnished. Two shelves, two beds, one nightstand, and a window that I stood at, on my tippy-toes trying to get a glance at my mom when she came to bring me clothes. I was balling my eyes out in my room when one of the staff came in to tell me my mom was dropping off clothes. I knew she was coming and had went to my room to cry because I knew visiting hours were over and I could not see her. The nice lady told me "try to cry as little as possible. If the doctors see you crying it'll take even longer to get out of here. The nurses and the social workers will give you tips to cope with your emotions and feelings, and just try to think of those things and practice and the sooner you'll get out of here.It's only for a few days, that's all. I'll go have your mom wave to you through the window."

After seeing my mom we went through my belongings. 6 pairs of underwear, 7 shirts, 4 pairs of pants, 2 sweatshirts, 1 pair of flipflops, contact lense case, glasses, tooth brush, toothpaste, shampoo and conditioner, deoderant. My life. And all I could think was, "that's a lot of underwear".  She gave me a few magazines too. Real Simple and a book about sand in my bra and something about panties. Embarassing. "Thanks mom, for grabbing the only things you had in your car."

There were warning signs of a scuffle in the common area tonight. A woman, with crazy grey/black hair, wearing sunglasses at 11:00 at night, inside, keeps trying to make small talk with people. "I used to be a teacher," she says, to whoever will listen. "Is that why you're so smart," a male night nurse says coyly. I had been placed under "line of sight" due to my 5150 status, which meant a staff member always had to have me in their line of sight at all times. I felt totally awkward. "Does this mean I have to ask permission to go anywehere? Will I get in trouble if I walk to another room without permission?" Not that I'm much in the mood for exploring. I'd rather sit here and try to blend in with this chair and watch the scene before me unfold.

"What grade did you teach," he asks her. "1st-12th," she says, "but not kindergarten."

Tomorrow I will learn how to deal with myself.