Precious Sins ✓

Chapter 44: Art Therapy

Precious Sins

Chapter XLIV: Art Therapy

[Adrien's POV]

I had a hard time the first few days I was inpatient. The first day, Mom had brought a suitcase full of my clothes, including a couple of books, my sketchbook and a journal for me to write in. Then, I said goodbye to my mom with tears in both our eyes and I was escorted up to the fifth floor of the hospital by a few nurses.

I wasn't allowed to bring anything else when I was brought up to the psychiatric unit that morning. I wasn't allowed my phone, nor any other electronics, and I wasn't allowed anything that could have been used to harm myself or others. Because of that, I couldn't bring pencils with me. They were provided by the people on the psychiatric unit and only used where they could see the people using them, in case something happened.

The room I was put in looked like a single room in a college dorm. There was a made bed, and a dresser, a window, and a chair, but that was about it. I also had my own private bathroom in the room, which was a bonus I guess. At least I didn't have to share with anyone else.

I spent that first day unpacking my clothes and putting them away into the dresser with the help of a nurse, considering my wrists were still a bit sore to use. I was able to change out of the hospital gown I was in, so I changed into a baggy hoodie and a pair of lounge pants. That same day, I also met with the team of people that would be working with me for the next ten days: Katelin, the psychologist I've already met, as well as a psychiatrist who will prescribe my meds, a physician for my wounds and pain management, a nurse, and an art therapist. Mom had told Katelin that I was into art, so she thought it would be beneficial for me to attend the art therapy group meetings.

They fed me lunch and dinner, as well as a couple of snacks in between meals. Preston visited me that evening, and as he had promised, he brought me a vanilla cupcake from my favourite bakery. We didn't talk much at first, and mostly just sat in silence in my room, but we talked some. After an hour went by, he had to leave. Something about his Dad grounding him because of the suspension he got. The first night I spent there, I cried in my room under the covers. I knew I was there for my own good, but that didn't mean that I wanted to be here. I just wanted to go home.

On the second day and third day, I had my first therapy sessions with Katelin. The first session was more of an introduction, where she talked about what we would be doing in therapy, and she gave me insight into depression, anxiety, and trauma as a whole. I didn't do much talking that day. The second session was more about me. She asked about my childhood, and what my life was like growing up. Still, I didn't say much and only gave her bits and pieces. We also dived into a bit of my relationship with Preston, and with my other friends. But still, I didn't give too much detail. I just felt so low in mood, that I didn't want to talk. I barely wanted to get out of bed still and do anything, but because I was inpatient now, they made sure that I was up and moving around as much as possible. Which meant that I spent a lot of my time in the common room when I wasn't in therapy. 

Katelin got the psychiatrist to prescribe me antidepressants on my second day of inpatient. It was supposed to help not only my mood but she said it would help my anxiety as well. That afternoon, the nurse gave me my first dose with my lunch. I didn't want to take it, but I took it anyway.

I also had my first group therapy session with the art therapist on my third day of inpatient. The art therapist's name was Whitney, and they were pretty nice. There were about seven other people in the group session, and they were all teens roughly around my age, some older and some younger. But I didn't mind the group therapy session, mostly because I got to paint how I felt, and to me, that seemed like the easier way to reflect on what I was feeling, rather than expressing it out loud.