Different- My adventure in the realm of finding myself

Chapter IV: Hospitalization On A Red Light

After that horrible Valentine's Day, I began to down spiral once again. This time, though, it would be beyond all other times. After a breakdown in early February, my mom on a Sunday took me into her room.

"Chloe, there's something I need to talk to you about."

My mom had told me that I needed to go to a mental hospital with her because she was concerned about my behavior. My dad had recommended I was taken there.

The next morning, my mom called the school and said I would be late to school. We then took the 45 minute drive to Highlands Ranch, and We went inside of the large building.

After an hour of talking, I was told to leave the room. I looked at a magazine, unsure about what was going to happen. I didn't really think anything terrible was gonna happen.

Man was I wrong.

I was pulled back into the room and told that I was going to be put into an inpatient program on the second floor. I asked what inpatient meant.

I was told that I was not gonna be leaving here for about a week or more. I broke down. I felt lost, and very unsure of what was going to happen. I had the Regional spelling bee coming up, and I was going to miss it. I felt my whole world come crashing down. I was stuck.

I was told there would be more kids up on the unit. That was more of a relief. I was escorted up there, and was asked to go into a room with one of the workers. They did a strip search on me. I was very confused, and just did what they asked.

I was not allowed to have any clothes with metal on them, including my jeggings I had worn that day. I was reduced to my tee shirt and wearing scrub pants and hospital socks.

I was then escorted to a room in the middle of the two hallways, where I could see approximately 30 kids. They all were way older than me, I could just tell.

"Everyone," Aspen, the worker said. "I would like you guys to meet Chloe. She will be joining you guys."

"Hi Chloe," They said, in different ranges of enthusiasm. I waved shyly, trying to ignore the fact that I was up to 9 years younger than most of these kids. By far I was the youngest person on the unit. I mean, it's not every day a 10 year old gets admitted to a mental hospital, am I right?

It was difficult to interact with most of the teens because it almost felt as if I had no way to relate with them. I tried my best to seem as chill as possible, though.

After the meeting, everyone was instructed to go to their rooms. I was put in hallway C, first room on the left. My roommate, Eniza, was sitting on her bed, staring out the window.

"What got you here? You look a little young," Eniza said.

"Well, it's really difficult to say since I'm so young, but I've been depressed and turning suicidal for about 6 months. My mom was worried about me and told my dad, and so they admitted me here," I replied.

"Wow," Eniza said, pretty flabbergasted that I was in that state at such a young age. "I know that feeling. I'm here because my boyfriend dumped me, and after that I just didn't want to live anymore."

I had never actually dated someone before, but I was pretty sure the way Fletcher broke my heart was not even close to the magnitude of what Eniza was feeling.

Eniza began to choke up, and started crying. I wanted to comfort her, but unfortunately there was a no-touch policy on the unit.

"I'm sorry," was all I could say.

Nighttime fell, and it was time for dinner. We all went down, and I was drooling at the smell of the food. Despite being in a hospital, the food was amazing. I also, for once, had access to coffee. I went absolutely hog wild. I made a large medium roast coffee and put 7 sugars and 12 shots of vanilla creamer in there. Some of the kids looked at me funny, but I've always had a crazy sweet tooth.

I went and sat down at a table alone. I felt as if it was more of a social prison than I thought it would be. I was just too young, and couldn't really relate to these people. I ate alone once again, and after we all finished, it was time to go upstairs again.

When I went into the room, Eniza was gone. Her stuff was gone, everything. I wondered what had happened, and a few minutes later, she walked in for the last time.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I'm getting discharged!" She exclaimed with a smile. "My parents and I had a talk with some of the workers here and they think I may be ok to come home!"

"Yay! Congrats!" I said with a smile.

"Hang in there, ok kid?" She said, smiling. I smiled back.

"You got it."

I no longer had a roommate. I felt somewhat free, knowing I could finally sleep alone and not worry about waking people up with my crazy insomnia. I looked outside to see it had started snowing heavily. I sat at the windowsill, and just watched.

For a couple days, I had watched kids go to the medicine bank by the front desk and get medicine every day or night. I had not really been on any prescription medications before, but on my third day, that seemed to change.

"Chloe," the nurse called. "Come over here for a minute."

I followed the nurse to the med bank. She had a little cup with a white, round pill inside of it.

"You've been prescribed Quetiapine," the nurse said. "I just wanted to run over some things with you before you take the medicine. First off, it may take some getting used to. It'll make you tired, dizzy, and you may even hallucinate at first. Any time you take this medicine, you have permission to go lay down. Got it?"

I nodded. I was then handed the pill, and swallowed it whole with a swig of water. I then walked back into the classroom.

As the counselor was talking, I started to notice that I couldn't focus well. It was such a struggle to keep my eyes open, and I began to feel a head rush. After 5 minutes, I asked to go lay down because the medicine effects were so strong. I laid by the window, and stared at the moon, for it looked as if it was changed colors rapidly. It didn't take long after that for me to pass out and fall deeply asleep for once.

I woke up the next morning, once again as usual, at 6:30 AM. As an elementary schooler whose school started at 8:30, I was not used to waking up so early, especially still having some of the effects of the new medication. I felt very out of it, and this continued.

2 days before my discharge came. It was also the day of the super bowl. We all were going to have a party that night.

I don't remember what made me do it. But one day I went to take a shower, and I saw that somehow throughout the day one of the hard plastic shampoo bottles in my shower had shattered on the ground.

I picked up a shard, and I felt a rush of memories go through my head. How Fletcher had broken me, how many people made fun of me, called me names, pushed me around, and how I, at 10 years old, ended up in a psych ward. All of a sudden, I felt angry. I was angry at myself.

Two days before, I had gotten a new roommate, Lisa. Lisa was 12, and seemed pretty nice. She wasn't in the room at the time, but she knew that I had never self harmed before.

I had done the damage to my wrists already, and when Lisa came in, she saw my arms.

"Where's the blade," Lisa asked in a very hard time.

I had already flushed it down the toilet.

She ran out of the room, and told a counselor what was going on. I was approached by 4 counselors, and was brought into the same room where the strip search was done on the first day.

After they strip searched me again, I was put into a room they call the "red light room". I was officially on watch by a camera 24/7. No windows, no clothes, nothing.

That night, as I was laying in the room, I could hear everyone cheering and laughing as the super bowl party went on. All I could do was cry. Alone. Silently.