Living with 3 older brothers

Experience

I went, kicking and screaming i might add, to the damn mental hospital I was doomed to stay in for at LEAST 72 hours. I was beyond enraged. My brothers had absolutely no right to decide if I was going or not. I was fine. Couldn't they see that? Sure, I harmed myself almost every day and had panic attacks at least twice a week but still.

When we arrived, I was shown to a room I would be sharing with three other girls. After unpacking, I was forced to take some psychological tests to see my mental health level, which I failed. And I also did some blood work to see if I was on any drugs or alcohol.

And there I was, in a stuffy room that was deprived of anything we could use to hurt ourselves. There weren't even handles on the taps so we couldn't hang ourselves or whatever.

I got to know the girls, Melanie, Olivia and Annabelle. They were quite cool to be honest. They found ways to have fun and to sneak snacks into the room when the nurses weren't looking. My favourite nurse was nurse Suzy. She was sweet and kind but was also a bit mischievous and let us have sleepover parties with the other girls and even some boys.

That's how I met him actually. We were having a party in my room, and I saw this boy. He had jet black hair and bright green eyes. A stunning combination if I do say so myself. In any school he would definitely be considered the "bad boy". He was in the hospital because he harmed himself very aggressively and was in extreme danger from himself because of his abusive father, but was getting much better.

We hit it off straight away and he would always sneak into my room at night so we could stay up and talk for hours. I was beginning to enjoy being here. No over protective brothers, no boring school work and a great bonus, I met a cute boy who I very much liked and it seemed that he liked me back! And I was surrounded by people who understood me and felt what I felt. They told me how they coped with their trauma. I even forgot about my urges to self-harm.

They made us take different psychological tests every couple of days to see how we "evolved" psychologically to see if we needed to stay there for longer. The trial I guess you could call it for the hospital was 72 hours but at the end of those days, I found I didn't want to leave, so I failed my tests on purpose, even though I probably would've failed anyway, so they called Jeremy and told them I should stay there a week longer.

Days became weeks and after what seemed like a day, I had been staying there for a month. I was honestly living my best life. I was happy.

That joy soon crumbled as I was told I was ready to go back home. I immediately started protesting and refusing to go back. I even went too far, saying I was going to kill myself if they sent me back. They saw through my bluff and sent Jeremy to come pick me up, but I protested once again and demanded that if I was going home, James was going to pIck me up. They agreed and so I stood outside with a nurse after saying goodbye to all my friends and getting their information so we could stay in touch, waiting for my brother to pick me up.

I was hoping the nurses saw how upset I was and decided to keep me there for just a little while longer but no such luck.

I saw James' car pull up and I reluctantly got in, completely determined on ignoring them and making their lives as miserable as I could so they would send me back.

As soon as I got out of the car it hit me. Everything I had been feeling before I was sent to the psychiatric hospital came rushing back and it was overwhelming. It took everything in me not to collapse on the ground and cry. I rushed to my room so I could be alone, but I felt someone pul me back by my arm. God, I had forgotten how annoying that was.

I turned around quickly to face John. "What." I snapped at him. He looked taken by surprise.

"Aren't you going to hug me and say that you missed me?" He said fake pouting.
"Why would I do that? You always hate it when I lie." I sneered back at him.