A Sense Of Disparity

Psyche Ward

Charlotte walked me down to the start of the corridor. "Right!" she said, "To your right you have the shower room. There are four showers so you may want to get up early to get there first. There is also a washing machine if you want to clean your clothes. You'll have to have a nurse help you with that. All the rooms on you left are bedrooms, labeled 1 to 8. Your room is number 4." We walked past several doors. "All these rooms on the right are meeting rooms where you'll meet with your doctors and the nurses when necessary." We walked past the entrance. Opposite the entrance was another door that led to the balcony. I was curious to see it, since we were on the fourth floor, a ward dedicated to suicidal youths. As we went out onto the balcony, I was slightly relieved and amused to find it completely surrounded by unbreakable glass windows. No one was throwing themselves off this balcony. In the far end of the balcony, two girls were sat on the floor smoking, a bucket of ashes next to them. They looked up as we entered and I attempted a smile. I must have looked pitiful, with my hair all bunched up in a messy ponytail. They didn't say anything and resumed their smoking.

We left the balcony and went back inside.  "This is where things get interesting," Charlotte said to me. "On your left is the nurses station," we passed a room with large glass windows. The door was open and two the nurses were sitting at a large table. "If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to come knocking. Here on your right is the kitchen. Then this room next to the nurses station is the dining room. There are snacks in the fridge, breakfast cereals and other things in the drawer. And of course a bowl of fruit. Breakfast in the morning is from 8 to 9.30, lunch is at 12 and dinner at 7." There were four round tables tables. A girl was sitting at one of them, eating a bread roll. Her eyes stared blankly ahead, and she chewed almost automatically. She didn't seem to notice our presence. I looked towards the counter and was happy to see a kettle and coffee machine next to a microwave. So I would have access to my beloved tea. 
We moved on the room next to the kitchen , which was a small library with books ranging from comics and mangas to full-fledged novel and books on psychology.
"And last but not least, the day room, everyone's favourite." As we entered, the first thing I saw was the electric piano. I was glad, since I was already beginning to miss my own piano. On one of the walls was a large white board that went from the floor to the ceiling. It was covered in quotes and drawings. One that stood out the most was a large drawing of a mushroom smoking a joint with large red eyes. I was tickled by the number of phallic depictions and curse words. Clearly the doings of the younger patients. Further in the room were three large sofas and two bean bags. These were occupied by several other patients who were watching the television that hung on the wall. They seemed to be engrossed in what seemed like some sort of celebrity reality show. Fascinating. One girl looked up and smiled at me, and for a second I actually felt like I was going to be OK. In the far corner of the room was a large punching bag.
"There are loads of movies to watch, all you have to do is ask one of the nurses to get one for you from the reserve. Movies are allowed after 10am only. So now that you've seen all there is to see, I shall take you to your room. Dinner will be in about half an hour."

My room was quite simple, but nice. I had a small room with a toilet and a sink, then in the larger part was a bed, a desk with a chair and a wardrobe. There was a small whiteboard hanging on the wall with three different coloured pens.
"Since your room opens up onto the balcony, your windows aren't locked. This button next to your bed in the panic button. If you need the assistance of a nurse, even if it just be to talk, then don't hesitate to press it and we'll come right away. Now, I think that is all. I'll leave you to unpack your bag." She left me with a smile, her heels clicking down the long hallway.

My bag had been placed on my bed, and I slowly moved to unpack it. The silence was deafening, and I guessed it was because everyone else was occupied. So far I had only had contact with one of the other patients. There must be about 12 of us, I thought, and I seemed to be the oldest.
I placed my clothes in the wardrobe, and put my book,, my Ipod, my diary and my pens on the table. Once everything was placed where I wanted it , I took off my shoes and lay down on the bed. I felt so numb and heavy. The nurse seemed nice, sure, but I couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and so lonely in this place. What was I doing? I didn't belong here, there was nothing wrong with me! I was a drama queen, that's all, and in a sudden burst of weakness had taken my act too far. But I didn't need to be here, in a psyche ward.
I wouldn't be allowed any contact from outside for the next 48 hours, and I was kinda glad. I hated the thought of my parents seeing me like this, and at least then I got time to pull myself together. I had always been good at pretending in front of them. Whether they believed it or not I didn't, but at least they pretended in return.

I sat up and stared at the wall. It was a ghastly yellow colour, which then cut off to blue on the ceiling. Beautiful. As I stared, I heard a knock of my window. Turning, I saw two other girls standing on the balcony, cigarets in hand, motioning for me to come. I slid off my bed and opened the window.
"Hey, I'm Lexi, this is Becky. What you in for?" Lexi didn't look any older than 13, yet she spoke like an old prisoner. She took a long drag on her cigaret, then offered it to me. I declined politely.
"I'm here for a suicide attempt... You?" I thought this would be obvious, since the ward was literally called the ward for young suicidals, but I guessed any conversation starter worked here, and I was in need of it. Suicide may be the only thing any of us had in common, but at least it was something.
"We're both the same," she declared almost proud, "did you ever cut?" Lifting up her sleeve, she showed me a thick scar on her forearm. I copied her, lifting both of my sleeves to reveal my now scabby arms. The girls eyes widened, and I too, for the first time, was surprised. The cuts ranged from different lengths and depths, but they were many. They were ugly.
"Damn!" Becky exclaimed, "did it hurt?" She reached out and traced the cuts with her fingers. Lexi copied.
"I guess so. But that was kind of the point..." I tried not to flinch as Lexi's finger brushed over a particularly sensitive one. As we all stared at my arms, there was a sudden knock at my door. I pulled down my sleeves quickly, triggering a small laugh from Lexi. 
"You don't need to do that here, we'll all sadomasochists here!" My stomach turned at the word as a young man opened my door. He was rather short, with large glasses that hid most of his eyes and greasy hair that flopped down over his forehead. Unlike the nurses, he wasn't wearing a white coat, but a plain turtle neck and jeans.
"Louise? I'm the intern, training to become a paediatrician. May I talk to you for a little while?" His voice was quite nasale, but it wasn't mean. I nodded, guessing I didn't have much of a choice.

We sat opposite each other in the library, and then, silence. He stared at me, and, uncomfortable, I stared back, my eyes shifting every now and then. I was never good at maintaining eye contact. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"Well?" He asked in a smooth, quiet voice. I was baffled.
"Er, well what?" I asked, hesitant and tired. I didn't want anymore stupid questions.
"Tell me everything. Why are you here? Why did you do it? Just everything."
Surely it was obvious why I was here, I thought, but I obliged.
I started by telling him about my constant depression, and how, after weighing up the reasons to live and the reasons to die, I had chosen the latter. 
He remained eerily silent throughout my monologue, only interrupting now and then for clarification. Once I had finished, we sat in silence again.
He took a deep breath. "Now let's talk about your sexuality. Tell me, Louise, have you ever thought about it?"
Of course I had. What kind of eighteen year old had never questioned their sexuality.
"And you're sure you're heterosexual? You've never had any attraction towards girls?"
"I've found girls pretty, but nothing more." I wondered how any of this could help with my suicide problem.
"Are you a virgin?"
I nodded. 
"Why is that?"
I was slightly appalled by the question. 
"I've never had a boyfriend. And besides, I don't want to sleep with anyone." I had made a decision that for me, sex was for marriage, as old-fashioned as it seemed. But it was my choice, though I wasn't prepared to tell him that. He would surely tell me I was missing out, putting up too many barriers for myself. I had many problems, but sex wasn't one of them.
As he stared at me, his eyes slightly amused, I felt more and more uncomfortable. Then, to my relief, there was a knock on the door. It was one of the other nurses.
"I'm sorry, but Louise has to come to dinner now." My heart almost leaped for joy, and I got to my feet. The intern followed, and held out his hand to shake mine.
"Thank you for your time, Louise."