Boxed In

Double-Edged Sword

"Yeah, something like that." I was dimly aware that I had started rocking. Back and forth. It was a self soother that I had acquired, a few years back.
"We'd like to switch you to a new brand that we think might work better," he stated.
I rolled my eyes and stifled a sigh. There it was.
"I don't think that's a good idea," I replied.
The doctor looked stuck for a moment. "Ms. Mallen, please. Have a little faith in us."
Something in me snapped. I scowled and sat up in the seat. "'Have a little faith?' What is wrong with this place? This is exactly what I said was gonna happen. Concerning factors? Check. Medication that didn't work? Check. More medication that still won't work? Check! It never ends!" My voice had continued to rise, and I had stood up without realizing it. On the last word, I kicked the wall where it connected to the floor. I was too angry to even register the impact.
Dr. Lin had stood up as well, and the rational part of me knew he wasn't a threat, but he backed me into a corner.
Big mistake.
I knew he was talking to me, but the words didn't make sense. All I was focused on was getting out. I felt like a trapped animal, and I reacted as such.
I ducked my head and rammed into him, hitting his chest. I felt more than heard his breath leave in a big whoosh. I pushed him by his shoulder to knock him sideways and ran like hell out of there.

—

Even before I opened my eyes, I knew I was back in the white room. It was the same dull smell that I had become accustomed to. I sighed to myself, but I didn't move. The white room was really called the Isolation Unit. I was sent here on my first day. And my third and fourth day. I was supposed to be getting out today. But I screwed up, again.
I didn't feel bad for myself. Didn't feel bad for anyone else either, though. I'm not a good person; I've never pretended to be. I don't care about how other people feel, nor will I fake sympathy for them. It's a dog eat dog world. You're either on the plate, or you eat what's on the plate.
I will always choose myself.

—

I didn't have another interaction with anyone, until the orderly slid my dinner tray through the door slot. I hadn't moved from my spot since earlier, so my bowels hadn't had a chance to move, either. It was so easy to lose track of time in here; mostly I stopped trying. If this was the place to go for people who were losing their minds, then I belonged in a dog cage.
I felt stuck, literally unmoving. It was one of the lowest feelings a person could feel. My body felt heavy. Not like a pile of bricks on top of me, but like my body was a pile of bricks. I felt sad, but the tears wouldn't come. Refused to come. I wasn't going to cry without reason. But I couldn't fathom the issue of being sad for no reason.
There was a low roaring sound in my ear, deafening in the stark silence. Another piece of evidence that my mind was never quiet.
I laid on my side, staring at the blank wall in front of me. My head was throbbing now, each heartbeat louder than the last. It was so quiet I could hear the blood flowing past my ears.
They say that loneliness could drive a person mad. I suppose if my mind wasn't already gone, I could believe that.
Loneliness is such a subjective thing. You could be in a space with a crowd of people and still feel alone. I was in a room with nobody and felt nothing.
The evening faded into night, and I began replaying the scene with the doctor in my head. The details were a bit hazy after I got down the hall. There was shouting, and a sharp pinch in my arm. Then I was out cold, waking up in the white room.
I told myself it wasn't my fault, that he shouldn't have cornered me, but I wasn't really good at passing the blame for making me innocent. I had to take responsibility. I felt a wake of white-hot fury, so sudden it made me flush. I had to grind my teeth so keep from lashing out and hitting something.
This was another "concerning factor" that the nurses had pointed out. Sudden bursts of anger apparently weren't common in people my age. Children.
Sometimes I had to remind myself that I was only 15. I felt middle aged and defeated, like it was finally time to lay back my head and let the universe carry out my life for me. I could curl up in a corner and stay the rest of my life there.