My Hospital Recommendation

Hospital Recommendation

I sat in the room only lit up by the over sized rectangular windows cascading the wall on the left by the entrance door. I glanced around the partially lit room feeling drowsy and numb as if the world had been zooming in and out of focus while my thoughts ran wildly through my ever so silent mind. I could hear the creaks and squeaks of doors crying as they're opened and closed behind the office enclosed in glass. I glance around at the new people, new strange faces filled with lost hope that maybe just maybe they had finally found a permanent fix in this building filled with bubbly positive quotes and soft cotton candy walls. I glanced out of the corner of my eye not being able to control the now spinning room. My eyes catch focus of a child playing on a plastic chair as if that's supposed to lighten the aura of the strangers faces as they enter and exit the waiting room. I stared blankly at the ground trying to get myself to feel at least something anything even. My mother searched through her busy phone not realizing the real distress painted across my face. I swallowed keeping my heart from jumping out of my throat as my stomach tied itself in what felt like an endless succession of knots until I heard a click. It had come from the once secured wooden door standing at the end of the room, it had unlocked. I glanced over my shoulder seeing a man with greasy black hair, pronounced Adam's apple, button up collared shirt, and a black belt wrapped around his gray pants where his waist should be. The belt was truly pointless as the pants clearly fit him. I had come to the conclusion the belt was either for fashion or it was there to hold in the demons rattling in his soul. Despair lingered from his pores, that's my counselor. His name was Steve which was quite an odd name for such a scrawny looking man although he did look as if he were from a little kids tv show. I had only been seeing Steve for a few months now and this is the story of how he ruined my life.. Okay maybe that's a tad bit dramatic coming from a guy named Steve but you get the jist. Into the story we go... I stood up trembling with anxiety feeling as if my legs were just about to collapse under my fragile soul yet my body had remained calm. My thoughts rattled through my head as he called my name. I walked over aimlessly as he had held the door open. I walked down the hall and I believe I heard him ask how he was yet I couldn't get myself to answer that question for I truly had no idea how to answer besides with "Please help me I don't trust myself I don't trust my mind. There's something wrong with me I know it please save me before I can't save myself." My mother, thankfully, had remained in the waiting room for now as this was the usual routine. We wandered down the hall with never ending doors making me feel as though everyone could hear the screaming thoughts seeping from my skull. We had taken a right into his office room I remember it was a right being as disoriented as I was I had always taken a right as we got to the end of the hall. I placed myself carefully into one of the chairs facing not at the window behind me but at his desk. I remember my heart pounding against my chest as I waited for him to sit down and so what he usually does once a client gets in which is sign them in so he can prove they came. Finishing typing he turned toward me and asked how I was doing as I hadn't answered him the first time he had asked. I shrugged my shoulders in response not knowing exactly how to reply once again. I had zoned out focusing on the messy bookcase next to the door expecting someone to burst through and make the voices stop. My eyes had focused on the piles and piles of folders he was not a very organized person and if he were it'd be one of those messy organizers, where only they know where their stuff is. The voices began to whisper soft death threats in my ear as if someone whispering Shakespeare in another's ear it had sounded like a sweet release, like art being shared with me exclusively yet I knew it hadn't been something beautiful I refused to acknowledge how it was breaking me down. My eyes wandered to a stack of white cards with the abbreviation "MCAT" meaning Mobile Crisis Assessment Team. It was a suicide hotline. I had received at least 3 of those card prior to spotting them in this moment. I sat staring at nothing as if it were a sculpture of beauty, my eyes glazed over as if I had seen a ghost I soon regained my focus hearing my counselor ask if I had planned anything when I got home and if I felt safe if I did end up going home. I shrugged my shoulders limply answering the second question, as for the first I hadn't known how to answer him. I felt I had a plan but not something I had wished to tell to anyone. I stared mindlessly at his desk as he stood up to get my mother. I don't quite remember why he needed to I kind of zoned out trying to calm my mind. He did, however, tell me he thought it'd be best if I were under professional surveillance aka suicide watch at the hospital for two weeks. He said they'd make sure I wouldn't hurt myself and I'd be on medication for what had been going on in my head. My heart started racing as he left the room to get my mother. All the blood rushed to my face as my stomach knotted into a billion knots. It got harder and harder to breathe as I had no idea what was going to happen, he hadn't needed to get my mother anytime before when I saw him although I'll admit this time felt off. I watched the door anxiously as if my heart were going to crawl out of my throat or burst through my chest. I couldn't breathe as I was choking back the tears trying to creep out of my eyes. My mother had walked in opening the door. All I could feel in that moment was my heart drop to the ground. Staring at her concerned yet disappointed face made everything in my body ache painfully. She sat in the chair next to me as she began to talk to Steve. I remember him telling her he wasn't sure if I would feel- I zoned out after feel as the rest faded to mumbles. Feel? How could I possibly feel anything with the voices and the numbing aches overwhelming me? What truly are feelings? A way us humans create noise and mess giving us an excuse to blame it on our uncontrollable "emotions"? I wanted to stand up and explain how I actually felt nothing, and how feeling numb leaves you feeling insane because nothing matters to you. Nothing. Nothing anyone says can change your mind or the way you supposedly "feel". The only things running through our heads while we're like this is how badly we wish to rid the world of our burdens. How no one likes us and or cares and no one will. We try to let out some small sort of emotion to give hints to people we think we could talk to and trust but they rarely get it. So we're stuck in one of the most dangerous places to our souls. Our minds. We're stuck in a constant state of panic and overwhelming thoughts. Sometimes we wish someone would just ask us how we are or if we need to talk or just show us some sign that they care, but we're scared if they ask how we are we'll break down and burst into uncontrollable tears so we hide it and keep it inside. The thoughts ramble about in my mind while I listen to the voices babble on about how I'm not good enough. It had felt like I had been sitting there forever as they talked. I glanced over at my mom finally collecting my thoughts, her face read "I didn't raise you this way." I knew she hadn't raised me that way. There is something wrong in my mind that I somehow was born with genetically implanted in my being. She went on talking to my counselor while all I could focus on was how much of a disappointment I had been to my mother once I started counseling. They finally finished talking after what had seemed like hours. My mother and I stood up leaving the room as my mother had sighed and looked down with disappointment lingering from her mouth. We got into the elevator as my mom held back tears until finally we entered our car in the parking lot. As soon as I had closed the door my mother burst into tears continuously asking me what was wrong with me, how she hadn't raised me that way and how I never told her. How could I tell her when I didn't quite understand myself what had been happening? Should I have just gone up to her and told her I was feeling suicidal? Is that such an easy thing to tell people as she thinks? How could I tell her every time I had closed my eyes a vivid image flashed before my eyes and all I could hear were the voices whispering into my innocent ears contaminating my thoughts. My eyes began to get misty until finally I burst into tears telling her how sorry I was and I wasn't sure what was happening to me. I apologized as I couldn't understand why I was like this and what was wrong with me. I was so scared and confused as to why I felt the way I did I wasn't sure how to react so instead I cried.Everything was my fault and my mother made sure to clarify that it was indeed my fault. We finally arrived in the driveway and I got out immediately running inside as the tears streamed down my flushed red cheeks boiling with fear. I ran into the dining room soaked in my own tears as I fell to the ground by the dining table my dad had run downstairs asking what had happened. I covered my face not knowing what else to do besides continuously apologize for something I couldn't control. My mom had walked in and I immediately got up trembling as I continued to sob and ran upstairs leaving a trail of tears. I collapsed into my bed for it was the closest thing I had to comfort. I laid in the dark as the tears streamed down my cheeks soaking my pillows and staining them with the fear of something I truly felt no one understood. Including me. I gazed at the ceiling unknowingly as my father had opened the door slowly walking in. He reassured me by telling me I wasn't going to the hospital because what I needed was family and support not medications and isolation from familiar things. Once everything had calmed down and my family and I had a talk like we usually do to discuss things that are happening my oldest brother, James, had offered to take me to get ice cream with him and his girlfriend at the time. Once we both got into the car and we were driving out to pick up his girlfriend we were miles away from home as he told me something I believe I'll always hold onto. He explained to me how he knew what I was going through and that I didn't need to be alone, that he'll always be there to support and protect me through anything no matter what happens. It may not seem like a lot to other people but honestly once I heard those words uttered from his mouth my mind had calmed and everything was silent for once in years. James helped me out of a dark place it really made me realize how much I do love my family. Although yes the way my mother reacted hurt me in ways I can't explain and even though we do have issues still doesn't mean I love them any less. At least I now know my siblings will be there for me even when my parents cannot. I'm so grateful for that day. That might sound weird but I truly am. My family and I go through rough patches all the time and once I think back I at least understand a few of them do really care. I love them all so much and honestly I couldn't have asked for a better family. Flaws and all. No matter how much I'm hurt by it I'll get over it and tough it out eventually. I'm so grateful because there are so many people like me out there who don't have enough people to tell them they matter and they can always come to. It's good to know someone will be there to ask and make sure I'm okay at least once. I truly strive to be there for anyone and everyone I can. This just inspires me more. I'm so lucky this day happened. I wouldn't change it under any circumstance.