To Hell and Back for You

Chapter 13: The Necessary Work

"How are you feeling today, Mark?" the woman smiled as I entered.

A small nod of the head was my only answer as I stood awkwardly at the door after it closed behind me.

"Why don't you sit down? Make yourself comfortable," she gestured to a chair sitting on my side of her desk.

"No, thank you," my voice was barely audible, choking the words out of a sore throat.

The last four days had been absolute Hell. Well, they had been bad. My experiences the day I had traveled to Daytonsville had me doubting that using Hell to mean something terrible was a proper comparison. Likewise, I had wondered if 'heaven' was a good thing.

Nonetheless, after I had woken up from surgery, I had been kept in the hospital under suicide watch which basically meant there was a nurse in my room at all hours just sitting and watching me. At least they would speak to me if I talked to them first. After two days, they transferred me to the psych ward, saying my wound could be checked on once a day from that point on.

Being brought into the ward meant stripping in front of staff to make sure I hadn't snuck in any contraband. You know, the obvious things like knives and then those items that were less so like pens. I had been through the procedure before so it wasn't new though it was still annoying. I didn't particularly like being naked in front of random strangers.

Did anyone really? But it was painless and over quickly. I had been provided with a pair of stringless jogging pants, a plain white tshirt, and a sweatshirt. It wasn't a stand-alone ward or institute, but rather another wing of the hospital I had already been in so at least I didn't have to suffer an ambulance ride to the place.

It had been two more days here. Today being the morning of the fifth day altogether and I was having my first visit with the psychiatrist since back in recovery before I was admitted to the psych clinic. She seemed nice, I guess, but I had come to find that most therapists, psychologists, and the like seemed that way.

Since it was part of their job, it was difficult to tell which ones were actually sincere until you started spending a lot of time with them- like the months of weekly visits I had been court ordered to in the past. Anyhow, it wasn't being in the hospital that had been so awful, it had been the fact that since awakening, I had been too afraid to go back to sleep.

I'd been doing everything possible to keep myself awake which was especially challenging during the enforced resting hours where nobody was allowed to be out of their room or even make noise within them.

"Have you been able to get any sleep?" the woman continued, her expression weakening.

I didn't answer.

"I see..." she looked down at the clipboard in her hand, "I'm told you haven't been eating either. What's on your mind?"

Fuck. I had honestly forgotten that the people who handed out the meal trays made notes of what was missing from them when they were returned, "Just not hungry," I lied. In reality, I was crazy hungry, no pun intended. It was just harder to sleep when you had to deal with an empty stomach.

"Mark, I really wish you would sit down," she said again in a soft, pleading tone, "It would make me more comfortable," she added.

It may have been true or may have only been to get me to relax, but I had learned that people in her position often used subtle things like that to judge a person's true mindset. For example, if I sat because she had said it would make her feel better, she'd think I was considerate even through my depression. This meant that not only was I kind, but I may not have given up completely yet.

I sat.

"Thank you," she smiled, "Now, can you tell me what is troubling you?"

"I already told you," I muttered.