Stuck Between Death And Life

Schizofrenic

Jolene's POV:

I've never been as scared as I was on the evening I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital.

I got room number 38. Every half an hour, a nurse or healthcare assistant would open my door to check I was safe. I only had 30 minutes to be alone. The windows were covered with a mesh grille to prevent any attempts to escape and there were two beds. I was like a prisoner. They said it was "For my own good." Which was complete bullshit, in my opinion. My bathroom had no plug to the sink, and the taps and shower switched themselves off after a matter of seconds, presumably so I couldn't try to drown myself in case I felt like doing so. There was also no mirror.

Anything I could possibly have used to harm myself was taken away from me. My phone charger, my dressing gown cord, my tweezers, earphones, everything! Though I was allowed to use my bluetooth headphones. I'm really glad I brought them. Even my shampoo and conditioner were locked away. If I wanted to wash my hair, I had to wait for someone to supervise me. I thought that it was stupid. Was it even possible to kill yourself with shampoo? They drove me to my house to pack everything I needed before I got here. I didn't even have time to talk to my mom.

I stayed here for weeks. They didn't explain much to me, they just said that I would stay here as long as I needed to. Every night before I went to sleep, the feelings would get to me. The anxiety, the sorrow, the pain... That's when I started to realize that maybe, I wasn't doing so good after all. I started having panic attacks and breakdown for no reason. At least once everyday. All I wanted to do was to be with Alexis. I was so stupid to spend time with Kyung instead of visiting Jolene.

I shared my room with another girl called Josephine. She suffered from major depression and was about 13 years old. She had long, blonde hair. It was messy since she didn't wanna shower. She would just sit by the desk in her blue hoodie and draw or write all day. Her drawings were amazing, filled with emotion and they were incredibly creative. Sometimes we would talk for hours since we had no one else to talk to.

In hospital, there was no need to pretend I was okay when I was not, no need to hide my scars or sugar-coat my feelings. All inpatients were here for different reason. I was deeply, suicidally depressed. They said that I was voilent and impulsive. Sometimes when I got too angry they would give me tranquilizer. Some inpatients had eating disorders. Some were floridly psychotic, one girl to the point that she thought she was a dog and crawled around the ward on all fours. I was glad that I wasn't completly nuts. Maybe she didn't realize how sick she was.

The empty feeling of hopelessnes haunted me everyday. When I didn't feel empty I felt deeply sad. I saw myself as an worthless person who wasn't worth anything. Maybe that's why I didn't get to keep Alexis in my life. Because I didn't deserve her. I kind of always knew that it was too good to be true. I would lay in bed all day and think about my mistakes. Sometimes I'd draw too, but I wasn't happy with the results, so I stopped. I couldn't sleep at night beacsue of that disgusting feeling of guilt and when the sun rised all I wanted to do was to sleep. Insomnia was my enemy.

I wasn't even allowed to go to Alexis's funeral. They said that it not safe. The worst thing about being in a psychiatric hospital was that it felt you were missing out on everything. My mom tried to visit me as often as possible. She must have felt lonely there, at home. Without her husband and her daughter. We tried to talk about Alexis as little as possible.

"Wake up." A tired but cute voice said. It was Josephine, of course. I sat up in the bed and she walked back to her desk. I quickly put on a white sweatshirt over my tank top and walked over to her. On the desk there was a carefully detailed drawing of a brown dog. When she noticed that I was studying her drawings she looked up at me with tired eyes.

"Do you like it? I've been working on it all night." She asked me as she continued drawing.

"It's amazing. Is it your dog?" I asked her.

"Was." She mumbled.

"Oh.. I'm sorry. May I ask what happened?"

"My older brother killed it. He thought that it was a demon." She simply exlained to me. I was a bit schocked by her answer and how she said it. Like it was nothing.

"He is schizofrenic." She continued."

"Is he in a hospital?"

"Yeah. This one, in fact. Room 43."

"What's his name?"

"Simon. Tall with dirty blonde hair, usually wearing a gray hoodie and jeans." I nodded as and response and sat back down in my bed.

I started to get really bored of sitting in the same room for several hours straight and walked out. We weren't locked in here so we could walk freely. Only some people needed to be locked in for their own safety. I used to get locked in due to my violent behavior but I got medicine that helped me control myself. I walked trough the long corridor and reached the cafeteria. There were maybe 7-13 people there. I checked the time on my phone. 13:16. Crap. I missed the breakfast. I noticed a boy in a gray hoodie sitting in one of the couches and biting his nails. I was pretty sure it was Simon because I could see locks of his dirty blonde hair under his hoodie. I wasn't sure if I should talk to him or not. After all, he killed a dog.. But if he was dangerous they wouldn't let him out of his room. I decided to talk to him.

"Hey, I'm Jolene. You're Simon, right?" He looked at me for a couple of secounds before he answered.

"Yes. How'd you know that?" He asked me with a flat tone in his voice.

"Your sister told me. I share a room with her." He was quiet for about 10 secounds again and looked like he was having a really hard time concentrating.

"Go away." He said out of the blue, not even facing towards me.

"Uh.. sorry?"

"No, not you." He said while looking away.

"Who?" I asked him. Suddently he stood up and just walked away. Did I do something wrong? I sighed and walked to the counter where you get your food. I was hungry so I was going to ask if they had some food left, even though it was past breakfast.

"Hi. Um.. do you have any food left? I kind of missed the breakfats." I asked the lady who was working in the kitchen. She turned to me and sighed.

"I have some fruits if you'd like. Banana or apple?" She asked me.

"A banana please. - Thank you."

[End of chapter 1234 words]

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