Razor

[PART NINE]; Rock Bottom

I couldn't believe it. I'd hit rock bottom, this was it- I was fucked. I wasn't just a depressed mess, I was also a failure. The one thing I thought I was good at had come crashing down and now I was being forced to get help. I had nothing and I was alone in a cold, white and clinical room with nothing but doctors and other medical staff who'd periodically come in to check on me to talk to. 

When I first got to the hospital, I was introduced to a doctor. His name was Dr Jordan and he was a small and kind asian man. He went over the basic procedures with me, like if I needed stitches, how long I'd been feeling this way, who called the police to have me come here e.c.t. I liked him, he was a good doctor but before I knew it his shift was over and I was introduced to another doctor called Dr Simon. Dr Simon was on the taller side, he had grey hair that he pushed back off his face and over his head. For someone of his age, he was quite understanding and wasn't the usual boomer "just be happy" type of person.

Simon told me that he often didn't get adolescents as young as thirteen with the issues I did and it saddened him that I was going through this. Of course, Simon had other patients to talk to so I only got to see him every few hours but the time I spent with him was fantastic. After waiting in this room for about eight hours, a psychologist and a security guard entered the room with. They began talking and eventually came to the conessus I would be sent home that night.

So, against my better judgment I went home and went to bed as it was around two in the morning at this point. However, less than twenty four hours later, the police were back at my door and I was back up in the hospital. Simon walked over to me and into my room

"I thought I told you not to come back here, kid." He mumbled with a cheeky grin on his face.

"Seriously though, I'm glad to see you're still kickin' haha," Simon laughed. I let slip a little laugh as he went off to check on his other patients. 

Soon enough there were more therapists in my room, this time the lady came in without a security guard. She wasn't scared of me like the others and something about that made me feel comfortable talking to her. I explained everything and told her all the things I'd been experiencing and she decided I was best of being admitted to a mental health ward as soon as possible.